“The betrothal is annulled.”
Even the way he referred to it was as if it didn’t involve him at all, a casual remark like merely passing on a message from someone else. There was no weight to it at all, yet her entire world shifted beneath her feet, sturdy ground becoming quicksand, already pulling her in.
However, she showed no reaction. Her hand holding the teacup didn’t so much as pause, taking another sip of tea with the elegance drilled into her, perfectly calm as she sat in the eye of the storm. Or rather, she knew herself to be the storm.
“I presume Sir does not speak such things without reason,” she said, wearing a soft smile that tread the line between sweet and sour.
His eyes lingered on it a moment, unable to discern which side of the line it fell on. Standing up, he turned his back to her, a long breath spilling out. “Pray make this break clean—or do not and make this matter easy to tidy up, no one willing to come to your aid.”
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She almost laughed, his attempt at a threat adorable; however, she had to adjust, no longer in the position to dote on him as such.
Putting down the teacup, her gaze slid across the room. To think he would make such an announcement in front of the staff. If it was only his butler, that would be understandable, but there were even kitchen maids present, tending to the snacks.
A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She hoped the King had been involved with this decision—or not, the Crown Prince’s situation no longer any concern of hers. In which case, well, was there any need to show compassion?
“Is it something I did? Am I in any way lacking?” she asked, her voice now gentle.
“In what ways are you not? This matter should have resolved upon your father’s death, yet we showed you mercy. Do you intend to repay that mercy with insolence?”
Bowing her head, she said, “Of course”—her lips curled—“not.”
A moment of silence passed, then his footsteps echoed in the room, quieter and quieter as they trailed away from her, until finally the large door opened and shut. She took a deep breath, then raised her head. This room of marble and mahogany, of intricate rugs and splendid paintings, carefully curated by herself over the years, would be one she wouldn’t see again.
At least, not for a while.