Chapter 11: A Pang of Jealousy
"Miss Shapira, is that truly you?" a melodious voice drifted through the air, carrying with it the scent of sandalwood from the lavish robes draping the young nobleman. He approached, his smile seemingly carved from moonlight, his gaze so intense it made Shapira feel an unexpected wave of attention.
Shapira, who was arranging red roses in an alabaster vase, was slightly startled by the sudden arrival. Her slender fingers paused among the soft petals. "My lord," she answered, her voice soft, slightly choked with surprise. She lowered her head, avoiding the nobleman's gaze, feeling an unwanted warmth spread across her cheeks. William, standing not far from her, suddenly stopped in his tracks. From the corner of her eye, Shapira caught the movement, a spreading tension, as if the air around them had thickened in the sharp silence.
The young nobleman, Lord Alden, son of Baron Reed, chuckled softly. "Oh, don't be so formal, Miss Shapira. Your beauty is dazzling, far surpassing these flowers. Could you spare me a moment? I would love to hear more about your talents." He extended his hand, as if to take hers.
Shapira took a step back, shaking her head politely. "Forgive me, my lord. I have a great deal of work to finish. These flowers must be ready for the evening meal."
"Work?" Lord Alden raised an eyebrow, his smile fading slightly. "But ... I'm sure Prince William wouldn't mind if you postponed your duties for my sake. Isn't that right, Prince?" He turned toward William, who now stood stiffly, his gaze straight and cold, as if frozen in place.
William didn't answer, his jaw tightening. He strode forward, each footfall sounding heavy on the marble floor. The aura around him suddenly shifted, becoming dark and menacing. "Lord Alden," William said, his voice low, as if carving each word into the frigid air between them. "It seems you've overstepped. This palace servant has duties, and Shapira must complete them. Do not disturb her."
Lord Alden, so cheerful a moment ago, was now deathly pale. He backed away slowly, his smile completely gone. "O-of course, Your Highness. I understand. My apologies." He bowed deeply, not daring to meet William's eyes. Then, he turned and hurried away, as if fleeing a dark shadow that had suddenly enveloped the hall.
William turned to Shapira, his eyes blazing with a confusing anger. "What did he want with you?" he demanded, his voice sharp, as if accusing her of a fatal error.
Shapira felt a sharp pain in her chest, deeper than mere shock. "Nothing," she replied, her voice trembling. "He just ... he just wanted to talk. I already refused him, Your Highness." Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the sight of William before her.
"Talk?" William scoffed, his words laced with scorn. "Or flirt with you? Do you not know how noblemen like him view servants like you? They only want to play with you!" His tone rose, piercing Shapira to the bone.
Shapira looked at him with wounded eyes, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "Why would you say that, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you ... not trust me? After everything we've been through?" Her hands clenched into tight fists, crushing the rose petals in her grasp. She felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces from this baseless accusation.
Seeing Shapira's tears, William's expression changed instantly. The anger in his eyes vanished, replaced by a profound regret. He saw how deeply he had hurt her, and it pained him more than anything. He reached out, as if to touch her cheek, but then stopped himself. He took a step back, his shoulders slumping, as if the weight of the world was upon him.
"Shapira .…" William whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean … I was just .…" He couldn't continue, the words caught in his throat. The regret was so real, so sharp, radiating from his every pore. He bowed his head, unable to look into Shapira's tear-filled eyes. He could only stand there, regretting every word that had just left his lips.
***
The afternoon sun faded below the horizon, painting the sky in stunning gradients of orange and purple. In the Astellia flower garden, the intoxicating scent of roses and jasmine filled the air, as if trying to soothe a wounded heart. William and Shapira sat on a stone bench, an awkward silence stretching between them. William plucked a white rose, twirling it between his long fingers, as if searching for the right words.
"I ... I'm sorry, Shapira," William began, his voice low, almost inaudible above the rustling of the leaves in the wind. He lifted his head, his gaze now gentle, full of remorse. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I ... I was just jealous. Blindly jealous." He let out a long, heavy sigh, as if releasing a great burden.
Shapira didn't answer, merely staring at the rose in her hand, her fingers twisting its wilting petals. She felt her heart slowly soften, but the wound from William's words still stung.
"I know it's not fair to you," William continued, his voice steadier now. "You did nothing wrong. I just ... I'm afraid of losing you. Afraid of the shadows of a dark past." He turned, looking at Shapira with a pleading gaze. "I saw the way he looked at you, how he spoke to you ... and I just thought, will it happen again? Will I lose you the way I lost Anya?" There was a tremor in his voice, a vulnerability Shapira had rarely seen.
Shapira looked up, her eyes meeting William's. She saw honesty there, a fear that was so real. "I ... I understand, William," she whispered, her voice a little hoarse. "I know that past is very painful for you."
William took Shapira's hand, holding it tight. The warmth of his hand spread, slowly erasing the chill of the wound in her heart. "I don't want it to happen again," he said, his voice firmer. "I can't imagine living without you, Shapira."
Shapira felt her heart beat faster. "But ... why are you so jealous, William? Isn't it clear that my heart is with you?" she asked, her voice soft, but with a hint of demand.
"Because you are my world, Shapira," William answered, his gaze intense. "I haven't felt this kind of peace since ... for a long time. Right now, being with you in this garden, under this sky, I dream of a simple life. A small house by the lake, far from the intrigues of the court and war. Just the two of us. Planting flowers, listening to the birds sing ... living peacefully with you." He looked at Shapira, his eyes full of hope, as if envisioning the future he described.
Shapira smiled faintly, tears welling up again, but this time they were tears of happiness. "A small house ... that sounds so wonderful, William," she whispered. She felt a sweet warmth spread through her heart, washing away all the pain. She squeezed William's hand, returning his warmth.
***
That night, darkness enveloped Shapira's room in the palace, lit only by the faint moonlight filtering through a crack in the curtains. A chill filled the air, but Shapira felt hot and cold. She sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze fixed on the antique-carved mirror standing in the corner. The silver light from the mirror seemed to reflect shadows, shifting at its edges.
"Be careful, Shapira," a soft whisper floated from the mirror, like a breeze through dry leaves. The voice was so close, so real, but there was no visible form. "Betrayal ... lurks behind false smiles. Even in this palace, where you feel safe."
Shapira tensed. Her fingers gripped the cold bedsheets. "Who's there?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She saw her reflection in the mirror, her eyes wide with fear.
"Those who envy you ... who want to take your place," the whisper continued, clearer now, more urgent. "They will try to bring you down, using me as a tool. Trust no one. Not even ... not even those closest to you."
Fear choked Shapira. She knew this whisper wasn't just her imagination. It was a warning. But, "Who?" she asked again, her head spinning, trying to understand. "Who could betray me here?"
The whisper only chuckled softly, a cold and emotionless laugh, like frost touching the skin. "Be wary. They will come for you. And you must be ready. Or everything will be destroyed."
The mirror suddenly faded, the shadows at its edges vanishing, leaving a blank, dark surface. Shapira shivered. She felt the chill of fear creep through her entire body. Betrayal? In this palace? After all she had been through, after she had begun to open her heart to William, now there was a new, unseen threat. She was confused. Was this related to Isolde? Or something else? She should tell William. But ... she didn't want to burden him further. William already had too much to bear. Shapira decided to keep this secret, at least for now. She would find out on her own. She would protect herself, and William.
***
The palace clock chimed twelve times, announcing the arrival of midnight. William slipped into Shapira's room, his shadow stretching across the cold marble floor. Shapira, unable to sleep, was sitting on the edge of her bed, her heart pounding when she saw him.
"Are you all right?" William asked, his voice low and concerned. He came closer, sitting beside her. He reached out, touching her cold cheek. "I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about my words this afternoon. And the whispers from the mirror."
Shapira flinched slightly when William mentioned the mirror's whispers, though he didn't know the details. "I ... I'm fine," she lied, her voice trembling slightly. She looked down, not wanting William to see the fear in her eyes.
"Don't lie to me, Shapira," William said gently, his thumb caressing her cheek. "I can feel it. Something is bothering you. Tell me. We promised not to keep secrets."
Shapira lifted her head, her eyes meeting William's. She saw sincerity there, a strengthening promise. She took a long breath. "The mirror ... it spoke to me again," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "It warned me about ... betrayal. In this palace. It said I have to be careful. Not to trust anyone."
William tensed, his gaze turning serious. "Betrayal? Who? What did it say?" He gripped Shapira's hands tightly, as if to shield her from an unseen danger.
"I don't know," Shapira admitted, shaking her head. "It was just ... a whisper. I'm confused. Scared. Is this related to Isolde? Or ... is there an enemy among us?" Her voice filled with anxiety, she pressed her hand against William's chest.
William pulled Shapira into his arms, holding her close. "No matter who it is, Shapira," he said, his voice trembling but firm. "We will face it together. I will protect you. I won't let anyone hurt you."
Shapira felt warm in William's embrace. She looked up, meeting his eyes in the darkness. "William," she whispered. "Are you really not afraid? After all we've been through, the curse, the threats ... and now betrayal?"
"I'm not afraid right now, Shapira," William answered, his voice full of conviction. "Because I'm with you. You are my strength. I don't care what happens, or who tries to tear us apart. I won't let them. I promise." He leaned down, kissing her forehead gently, a kiss full of promise and sincerity. "Tell me, Shapira. Is there anything else bothering you? What little secret have you not shared with me?"
Shapira smiled faintly. "There is one," she whispered, her head resting on William's chest. "I never told you, but ... I often dream of you. Even before I came to Nymira. And every time I dream, I hear that song. The same song Anya sang. And strangely ... now, I like it."
William was silent for a moment, surprised but touched. "Really?" he asked, his voice softening. "You never told me." He looked at Shapira, his eyes full of questions. "What do you feel when you hear that song?"
"I feel a longing ... and a love so deep," Shapira answered, her voice trembling. "As if it's a part of me that was long lost. And now, I feel ... more complete." She looked up at William. "Is that strange?"
William shook his head. "No," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together. "Not strange at all. It's ... it's beautiful. It means we were truly meant to be. This is our destiny." He tightened his embrace, as if he never wanted to let her go.
***
The next morning, the sun peeked from behind William's curtains, casting a warm light on the marble tiles. William stood by the window, gazing at the palace gardens, freshly washed with morning dew. There was a new calm on his face, a radiating confidence. The door opened, and King Astellia, in his simple sleeping robe, walked in. He carried a cup of warm herbal tea in his hands.
"You're awake, my son?" the King asked, his voice gentle. He placed the teacup on a small table beside William. "I see you spent the night here again."
William turned, bowing respectfully to his father. "Good morning, Father. Yes, I couldn't sleep. I had much to think about." He picked up the teacup, inhaling the fragrant herbal aroma.
King Astellia nodded. "I know. The burden on your shoulders grows heavier. But there is one thing I wish to speak to you about. Regarding ... Shapira."
William tensed, but then nodded. "Yes, Father?"
"I have been watching you, William," the King began, his voice full of wisdom. "And Shapira as well. That girl has a pure heart, a rare courage, and... she has brought you back to life, my son." The King looked at William, his eyes shining with affection. "I see how you look at her. That is true love. Just like my love for your mother."
William looked down, blushing slightly. "I ... I know, Father. I love Shapira."
"And she loves you," the King continued. "That love is strong. Stronger than a curse, stronger than war, even stronger than the politics of this court. I know there are whispers. I know there are those who oppose it. But, William, you are a future King. A good king knows how to follow his heart, not just his duty. An empty heart cannot lead wisely."
William lifted his head, his eyes shining. "Father ... you support us?" His voice was filled with relief and hope.
"Of course," the King nodded. "There will be risks, William. Political risks. Perhaps some nobles will disapprove. King Lucian will not give up so easily. But true love ... it is the strongest foundation for a kingdom. If the people see their king love so sincerely, they will love their king in return. And they will protect him." The King placed a hand on William's shoulder. "Follow your heart, my son. I will stand behind you. Astellia needs a leader with a heart. And Shapira is the key."
William hugged his father, the embrace filled with deep gratitude. "Thank you, Father. Thank you."
King Astellia patted William's back. "Go. Go and find Shapira. Tell her what is in your heart. And don't let anyone extinguish that light." The King smiled, then turned and left William alone, leaving warmth and hope in the room.
William stood there, looking at the sun-drenched garden. His heart was filled with relief and a new resolve. His father's support was a priceless gift. He now knew what he had to do.
William then strode toward the large mirror in his room, his reflection clear on the clean surface. He saw himself, a prince no longer haunted by the past. William smiled faintly. He whispered to his reflection, "I won't let you go again, Shapira." He promised, the voice of his heart booming in his mind.
William felt determination burn in his chest. He would protect Shapira. He would protect Astellia. And he would defeat any enemy who dared threaten their love. King Lucian, Isolde, or anyone else. William didn't care about political risks or the whispers of nobles. King Astellia had given him his blessing. That was enough for him.
He knew Shapira might still be hesitant, still afraid of her past and her identity. William would erase that doubt. He would prove that Shapira was his strength. Not a curse. He would not wait any longer. William would find Shapira, and he would make her believe that their love was invincible.
At that moment, William felt a new spirit, a strength he had never possessed before. He would do anything for Shapira. He would protect her with his life. He would promise to make her believe their love could conquer all. He would love Shapira more than he loved himself.
William knew the threat from Varkhiel would not simply disappear. King Lucian was still out there. Isolde was still lurking. But with Shapira by his side, he was not afraid. They would face this storm together. William reached for a locket engraved with the Astellian crest that he kept in his desk drawer, a locket meant to be given to his future queen. He would give it to Shapira. He would not wait any longer. He would declare his intentions.
William turned the locket over in his palm, feeling the cold metal, but the warmth in his heart was powerful. He would go to Shapira, immediately. He would tell her everything he felt. He would ask her to be his queen. He would protect her from all the dangers to come. He would not let anyone hurt her again.
Suddenly, a heavy voice from the hallway shattered the silence. "Prince William! An envoy from the Kingdom of Varkhiel has arrived at the gates! They demand an audience with you!" The voice was filled with urgent tension.
William sighed, his jaw hardening. He glanced at the locket in his hand, then toward the door. His face showed a strong resolve, but also a faint shadow of worry. He knew what was coming. He knew this was the beginning of the real storm. He had to face the envoy. He had to protect Shapira, whatever the risk. He had to move forward. He had to become the king Shapira deserved.
William immediately strode out of his room, without hesitation. He would face the threat, and he would return for Shapira. He would go to her, and they would face this storm together.
He would marry Shapira.
Suddenly, William stopped in the middle of the hallway. A strange premonition gripped his heart. He felt a cold wind stir, carrying with it whispers of the past. Was this just his anxiety, or was there something much darker moving in the shadows of the palace, something the mirror had not yet revealed, something that would test their love to its very limits?