It seemed everyone was deliberately avoiding us—shifting their gazes away, whispering behind gloved hands, giving us a wide berth as if we carried some invisible contagion. I watched the crowd from the balcony, curiosity prickling at me. Did Prince Hudson feel it too?
We stood apart, near the balustrade, immersed in our own world while the important people below delivered speeches and made toasts. The distant hum of voices and clinking glasses became background noise to the quiet tension between us.
I tilted my head, glancing at him. "Is it just me, or are people avoiding us?" I asked softly, playing with the glass of champagne in my hand—though I never dared to take a sip.
Prince Hudson took another gulp of champagne, his gaze fixed on the staircase, feigning interest in the speeches. "Well, it was expected."
I raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of me. "How big is that trouble you've caused that they treat you like this?"
He hesitated just a moment, then answered, with a hint of dry humor, "I heard you're smart and studious. Don't you read the news?"
I smirked. "I usually skip the Entertainment section," I teased.
He looked at me with a mock-offended expression. "I guess the news didn't reach this country."
Truthfully, I had no idea. Between the chaos of tonight and my own thoughts, I barely had time to keep up with the world.
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. "Let's say, I almost started a war."
My heart skipped a beat. I shot him a questioning look, about to ask what he meant, when suddenly, he excused himself. Before I could follow, I turned—only to realize he was gone. Panic surged through me. I scanned the crowd, my eyes darting through the sea of faces, desperate to find him.
Finally, I made my way to the garden—an expanse of shadows and moonlight, tall hedges casting dark silhouettes in the glow of the full moon. The cool night air was thick with silence, broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath my heels as I hurried through the garden.
Just as I was about to turn back toward the manor, I froze in my tracks. A distant, muffled sound cut through the night—voices, then a sharp punch, followed by grunts and grappling noises, coming from deep within the hedges.
My heart hammering, I hesitated, then cautiously moved closer, carefully navigating the gravel path. The moonlight illuminated a startling scene—a figure on the grass, pinned down near the fountain.
And there, in the moon's ghostly glow, I saw him: Prince Hudson, on the ground, struggling against a man of similar size. The man wore the same suit, but with shoulder-length hair that shimmered in the moonlight. His silhouette was almost a mirror of Hudson's.
"Prince Hudson!" I screamed, voice trembling with terror and outrage.
The man choking him turned sharply toward me. His face remained shrouded in shadows, the features indistinct, but the uncanny resemblance to Hudson sent a shiver down my spine.
"Get off of him before I call security!" I warned, my voice trembling but fierce, knowing full well I was no match for him.
Instead of retreating, the man chuckled—an eerie, mirthless sound. It was the same chuckle Hudson had, the same expression that haunted me. The resemblance was almost too perfect, too unsettling.
"Oh, yeah? Go ahead," he taunted, his deep voice eerily similar to Hudson's, "see what happens."
All I could think of was to run—call security, scream for help—but as I looked at Prince Hudson, barely conscious, veins bulging on his forehead, desperation took over. I had to save him now.
My heels sank into the gravel beneath me as I looked around, searching for something, anything I could use. Without hesitation, I bent down and scooped up a handful of rough, jagged gravel. My palms scraped against the stones, but I clenched my fists tight.
"Hey!" I shouted, trying to catch his attention. My voice echoed in the silent garden.
He turned toward me, eyes narrowing as he saw the gravel in my hands. I threw it—clumps of jagged stones scattering in the moonlight—hoping to distract him. For a moment, he shielded his face, instinctively pushing my hand away, and in that split second, I rammed myself into him with all my might.
We both toppled to the ground—me on top, fighting to breathe, fighting to stay conscious. Memories of the old wheat sack hanging from a tree back home flooded my mind. I'd once tried to teach myself boxing, fueled by rage against my grandfather. It hadn't worked out back then, but tonight, I was determined to use every ounce of that reckless training.
I threw punches blindly, fists flying in a desperate mess, forgetting all the proper combos I'd read about. The only thing on my mind was getting him off Hudson. When I felt my hand start to go numb from hitting a stone-hard body, I resorted to slaps, hoping to disorient him.
Prince Hudson finally sat up, clutching his neck, gasping for air. His face was pale, sweat slicked, but he was alive.
"Run, Hudson!" I yelled, voice cracking with adrenaline. "Call for help!"
He scrambled to his feet, trying to push himself upright—then bolted away, a mistake I immediately regretted.
The man seized the moment. His grip suddenly shifted, catching both of my wrists and yanking me down hard. I hit the ground with a thud, the gravel biting into my skin. His weight pressed down on me, suffocating, relentless.
Now he was on top, his face inches from mine, breathing heavy, eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
"You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong," he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice a low, threatening growl.
I wriggled fiercely, kicking my legs, trying to break free, my heart pounding so loud I thought it would burst from my chest. Every muscle burned with effort, desperation fueling my resistance.
He chuckled again, a cold, cruel sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "You're brave, but stupid," he sneered.
Stupid, indeed. I could feel my energy draining, my body trembling from exhaustion. When he pressed his weight down on my legs, pinning me firmly to the ground, I knew fighting him physically was hopeless. Every muscle ached, and my strength was slipping away faster than I could hold on.
Desperation surged through me. With the last ounce of my remaining strength, I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice raw with terror. "Help! Someone, please! Help—!"
But before I could even finish, his hand shot up with terrifying speed. His palm clamped over my mouth and nose, cutting off my cries. I struggled, thrashing wildly, but his grip was like steel. The world around me blurred, the air slipping from my lungs as darkness clouded my vision.
My vision dimmed, and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing I saw was the cold, cruel gleam in his eyes as I succumbed to the darkness, helpless and trapped beneath him.