𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

"Father, I'm perfectly capable of handling the servant that's been put under my jurisdiction," Adrian exhaled in obvious irritation. "We do not need to get Basile involved."

"He's a wonderful advisor—I don't see why not."

    "Father, I—"

    "Adrian," Kandef held up his hand, immediately silencing whatever Adrian's protests might have been. "I understand why we must stay diligent in looking over one's own servants. However, this servant has claimed to make a mistake that could have been intentional. Now, Oman has hired all of the servants, including this man, here. He will give good judgement on what to do with him. Do I make myself clear?"

    Adrian inhaled sharply, his fists tightening.

    Finally, he uttered out rather sharply, "I understand, Father."

    "Good," Kandef nodded. "Let's begin."

With a snap of his fingers, Kandef was able to employ two guards to sweep forward out of nowhere and grab (Y/N) tightly by her arms, forcing her down in a way that they could control. With that, the King and Queen, along with their two children, and (Y/N), walked down the lavish halls towards Basile's office. Kandef and Delana entered, yet Adrian, Seraph, and (Y/N) were forced to stay outside.

This didn't bode too well with Adrian.

It was obvious he was agitated from his tense form, and though (Y/N) was apprehensive to it, she also was intimidated by the pining stares she was receiving from Seraph.

It was a rather foreboding situation.

One she never wanted to be in.

Yet, from one little slip up she had overlooked, she was now in said situation.

She internally groaned.

God, I'm tired.

I really need a goddamn nap right now.

"Wow... your skin is so smooth and clear for a man..." Seraph commented, resorting to sliding a nail down (Y/N)'s face which the guards holding her up didn't even bat an eye to.

"Excuse me, your Highness, but someone like me is not worth the touch of your hand," (Y/N) spoke as she jerked her head to the side to alleviate herself of the ghost-like touch.

"Oh, my," the Princess merely gasped in delight from (Y/N)'s rather sweet and romantic words, clasping her hands together with a small, almost musical giggle that resounded through the air. "Even your words are as handsome as your features! I do hope Mother and Father won't kill you for something I have long past forgiven."

"I... see..." (Y/N) coughed, her strained tone garnering Adrian's attention. "Thank you, then, Your Highness... for your well-wishes."

"Of course!" Seraph chirped.

"Seraph," Adrian spoke up from where he stood, his amber eyes cutting into his sister in a way it made her physically flinch. "While this servant may have your interests now, it will only wear off as it has the last five other ones. Please don't make a disgrace of the royal family once again."

Seraph recoiled at his words, hurt.

(Y/N) stared at Adrian, at a loss for words over how cold he sounded.

When sheet him sweeping the courtyard and even when she had cleaned up the bodies from his room, he didn't seem this frosty—perhaps stoic and a stickler for rules, but not like this. She averted her eyes when his met hers, deciding it not even worth her time to mull over. After all, she had no idea who Adrian was, nor would she pretend to care. If his family matters were frigid, she would not involve herself in them.

Her attention was then diverted to the doors of Basile's office that suddenly opened, Kandef and Delana exiting the space.

"Adrian, Seraph, we have come to a conclusion," Kandef announced to his two children before turning to (Y/N). "I have spoken with Basile, and he has vouched for this man. However, for the mistake he has made which very well could have cost the Princess her life, he will be sentenced a month of labor building the new library that's been in construction for Seraph's upcoming birthday. Is that suitable for the two of you?"

"Yes," Adrian replied rigidly, eyeing (Y/N) from the corner of his eye. "It is."

"Yes, Father," Sereph chimed in.

"Then it's settled," Kandef clapped his hands, the two guards on either side of (Y/N) immediately releasing her.

(Y/N) rubbed her wrists, frowning.

Well...

It could've been worse.

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