Chapter 243
Lumiya
Walking through the halls, I let the envious stares wash over me like rain on stone. Of course they look. They always do.
I am beauty, I am pedigree, I am the bloodline nobles whisper about when arranging their marriages. My every step is calculated elegance. My every glance is deliberate.
And the man on my arm—Felix Leonhart, heir to the throne—only makes their envy burn hotter. He is more than they could ever dream of attaining. With him at my side, I am the future queen.
The whispers follow us, but they do not touch me. I do not care about them.
Nor do I care about the prince's little distractions—his lovers, his fleeting passions, the ones who think themselves special because his gaze lingered a moment too long. They are nothing.
Let him dally. Let him collect a hundred women if he so pleases. It changes nothing.
As long as my position is secure—as long as my crown remains inevitable—I will not waste my breath on jealousy.
