Pampered by the Villainous Tyrant King

Chapter 10

Now Rachel didn't know how to feel. The future queen had never been rude to her and had even expressed her sincere admiration for Rachel's talents in swordsmanship. Had Princess Annabeth insulted her, perhaps Rachel could have used this to invoke empathy on Percy's behalf, seeing that she had been by Percy's side for so long. However, the princess' conduct was impeccable.

Most likely since it was a political marriage, Percy had no choice. Rachel could understand that. Being a monarch was no easy feat with all the duties and responsibilities laden on the crown.

But Rachel couldn't help but feel jealous when she saw Percy treating the Kiran princess so affectionately. She had thought that she was the only one who could receive such tender actions. Everyone around her had said so as she was only woman Percy had allowed to approach so close to him. It was only now that Rachel realized how foolish of a dream that was. She had been living a world of lies. One could not force their feelings onto another.

Rachel headed to her bedroom. Paintings that had been personally created by her filled one wall. It had been a long time since she had painted.

There was a portrait of Percy from a memory of him when he was merely a prince. Rachel gingerly stroked the brushstrokes that comprised his cheeks. She didn't notice that a lone tear was rolling down her own cheek.

Marquis Dare went back to striding in his office. His plans were falling apart. His eyes landed on the papers on his desk. Wasn't the future queen going to look for ladies-in-waiting?

Yes, he could have Rachel be picked there. Men were often fond of beauty, but they preferred beauty with talent. The more a man gazes at a rose, the faster the rose wilts. Then, wouldn't he switch to something fresher?

But Marquis Dare was wrong about viewing women as roses. He had forgotten that roses didn't simply wilt when the flower was finished budding. The stems and leaves were still there, and even if winter washed away the petals, spring would come to bud new flowers. Not to mention that even the most delicate of roses had thorns.

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The rose in question was Annabeth who had managed to finagle a pair of linen pants and shirt from the royal seamstresses. While she couldn't wear them outside of her private quarters and give the Eldoris staff a heart attack, she did wear them for some light yoga.

"What...are you doing?"

Annabeth didn't want to get up from her downward dog position. But it would be rude to talk to a sovereign while peeping from such an awkward pose so she pulled herself together.

"Yoga. Is there something I could help you with, Your Majesty?"

Despite getting permission to call him Percy, there was something like a barrier in her mind that if she did call him that, then she would truly accept her role here as the future queen of a country. But Annabeth was only viewing this as a temporary spell of insanity or something. Maybe she overworked herself too much, fainted, and then knocked her head and was now in a coma. If only everything in this world didn't feel so damn real, Annabeth would have thought that this was the case.

The Eldoris king glanced over her loose clothes but made no comment. Instead he sat down as Lucy hurriedly poured him some tea. Sir Grover had turned his face sideways so he was not facing her. Strange.

Annabeth hadn't realized that when she was in the downward dog position, her shirt had fallen down, exposing her stomach. Sir Grover had turned away for fear that the king would be unhappy.

"What is yoga?"

Seeing that he had no intention of leaving, Annabeth got up and washed her hands. She was just finishing up her yoga anyway.