MidReal Story
Royal Deception: A Princess's Sacrifice
Scenario: A princess ophelia is forced to marry to save her kingdom. She's smart but people underestimate her cause she's a women
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Ophelia Marigold
princess of Marigold Kingdom, single, long golden hair, sharp green eyes, intelligent and resilient
Cedric Thorne
prince of Thornwood Kingdom, betrothed to Ophelia, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, ambitious and charming
Elara Raines
ladyinwaiting to Ophelia, friend to Ophelia, short curly brown hair, gentle and loyal
I was going to kill my father.
I was going to kill him, and then I was going to kill myself.
I had no other choice.
The man sitting across from me was the most arrogant, infuriating, and handsome man I’d ever met.
He was also a prince, and he was also my betrothed.
And he was also the reason I was going to kill myself.
“Princess Ophelia,” he said, his voice smooth as silk.
“Would you care for some more wine?”
I glared at him over the rim of my goblet.
He raised an eyebrow at me, and I wanted to slap him.
“I would not,” I said through gritted teeth.
He shrugged and poured himself another glass of wine, his eyes never leaving mine.
I tried not to look at his hands as he did it—large hands with long fingers that looked like they could do all sorts of wicked things to a woman’s body—but it was impossible not to notice them.
I tore my gaze away from his hands and tried to focus on the rest of him—tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass.
He was…beautiful, really.
But he was also a prince, so he was probably well aware of that fact.
He wasn’t the kind of man who would ever be told no.
He was the kind of man who would take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.
And I was supposed to marry him.
The thought made my stomach clench.
“Not a fan of wine?”
he asked, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip.
“I am,” I said, my tone clipped.
“But I’m not in the mood to drink this evening.”
“A shame,” he said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.
I had no doubt he knew exactly what he was doing—showing off his biceps in a tight black shirt, his body language saying loud and clear that he was in charge.
It made me want to punch him in the face.
“So,” he said, fixing me with a hard look.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I blinked at him, caught off guard by the question.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, “that you’ve been staring at me all night as though I’m some sort of wild animal.”
“That’s not true,” I lied through my teeth, trying desperately to get my thoughts together, but it was hard to concentrate on anything besides how beautiful he was up close, and how he smelled like…like…
I took a deep breath and shook my head, trying to force the thoughts away before they consumed me.
“I apologize if you feel like I’ve been staring at you,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral even as my heart pounded in my chest.
“It’s just that we’ve never met before, and I’m trying to get to know you.”
He took another sip of wine and raised an eyebrow at me.
“And what have you discovered?”
I thought for a moment before speaking, trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t get me killed.
I like the way it feels when you look at me like that, and I hate that I like it, I thought, repressing a shiver as his eyes flicked over me, taking in every inch of my body as though he could see straight through the dress I was wearing and the armor beneath it.
“That you’re very handsome,” I said with a smile that he didn’t return.
“Is that so?”
“Of course it’s so,” I said, trying to keep my tone light even though it felt like he was stripping me bare with every glance, “but I don’t want you to think I don’t take this engagement seriously.”
“I see,” he said, his tone neutral even as something dangerous flickered in his gaze, “because you take everything seriously.”
“Of course I do,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze and keep the fury off my face.
“Because everything I do reflects on my father and my kingdom.”
“I feel the same way,” he said, taking another sip of wine and leaning back in his chair, completely unconcerned with either of our predicaments as he looked at me with an unreadable expression.
“I also happen to think you’re very beautiful,” he added, and all thoughts of diplomacy vanished from my mind as I glared at him across the table, clenching my fists so tightly they ached.
“I think you’re a pig,” I said through gritted teeth, “and I don’t believe for one second that you take anything seriously, except maybe your own reflection in the mirror.”
His lips quirked into a smile, and he chuckled softly as he looked at me with something like…admiration?
“I’ve been called worse,” he said with a shrug, “but tell me something—what makes you think I don’t take anything seriously?”
I opened my mouth to respond just as Elara walked into the room and cleared her throat, reminding us of where we were.
I gave Cedric one last glare before turning my attention back to the table and trying to decide how best to proceed.
“So,” he said, his tone casual and unconcerned as though he hadn’t just insulted me and completely derailed this conversation in the span of thirty seconds, “let’s talk about the terms of our engagement.”
“I already told you what they were,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You did,” he agreed easily.
“But I’d like you to tell me again.”
I opened my mouth to answer just as his hand darted across the table and plucked a grape from my plate.
“Hey!”
I said, glaring at him as he popped it into his mouth and chewed.
“Would it have killed you to ask first?”
He winked at me and reached for another grape.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
I slapped his hand away before he could grab a second grape and ordered him to tell me what the terms were.
He held my gaze for a moment longer before speaking, and something dark and dangerous flickered in his eyes once more—a look that made my heart race and my skin tingle.
“You’ll do exactly as I say, when I say it, and you won’t tell anyone about us until I give you permission.”
My throat went dry as he spoke, and I forced myself to meet his eyes.
“Those are my terms, Princess.”
It was a clear dismissal, one that told me this conversation was over, but I didn’t leave right away.
Instead, I forced myself to sit across from him and meet his gaze even as my body screamed at me to run.
“Is something wrong?”
he asked, fixing me with a hard look.
“Why are you still here?”
I opened my mouth to respond just as Elara walked back into the room with two more goblets of wine.
“There you are!”
she said, smiling at me before turning her attention to Cedric.
“Your Highness, would you like some more wine?”
she asked, holding out a goblet in his direction.
He took it from her without so much as a word of thanks, and I glared at him over my own goblet.
Even when he had other people fetch things for him, he did it with a level of arrogance that made me want to strangle him.
“Thank you, Elara,” he said with a smile that never reached his eyes as she curtsied and backed out of the room.
His behavior was incredibly rude, I decided as he took a long sip of wine.
“Not at all.
The most important thing is that we’re both willing to put the needs of our kingdoms ahead of our own personal desires, is it not?”
He tipped his head at me thoughtfully, as though he hadn’t quite made up his mind about how he felt on the subject just yet, but he didn’t push me any further either, which was a relief.
Instead, he took another sip of wine before setting the goblet down on the table between us and reaching for the bottle once again.
“Would you like me to pour you a glass?”
I asked him, trying my best to sound unconcerned even as my gaze flicked from the bottle to meet his eyes with a hint of annoyance in my expression.
He met my gaze unflinchingly, as though he was trying to make a point by refusing me, but I didn’t back down either, holding his eyes as he poured himself another glass of wine without offering me any of it first.
He took another sip of wine and set the bottle back down on the table before meeting my eyes with a lazy grin.
“Have I mentioned how beautiful you are when you’re angry with me?”
He asked me with an easy smile.
“And how intelligent you are too?
It’s terribly unfair for one woman to be so lovely and so clever at the same time.”
I scowled at him, knowing he was only trying to distract me from the real issue at hand, but it worked anyway, and I felt my lips twitch into a smile in spite of myself.
“I’m sure there are plenty of other beautiful women who are just as intelligent as I am,” I told him, forcing myself to sound calm and composed even though my heart was still racing too quickly in my chest.
“But you shouldn’t drink so much wine—especially when we have so many important things left to discuss,” I added, trying my best to sound casual as my eyes flicked toward the bottle of wine he held in his hands.
“Men who drink too much tend to get…sloppy.”
His smile faded a little as he regarded me thoughtfully, as though he was trying to decide whether or not I was being serious right now, but I didn’t back down either, holding his gaze as I waited for him to finish his glass of wine before asking me the question that had been on the tip of my tongue since the moment we sat down at this table together this evening.
“Will I have to share my bed with you after we’re married?
I hope not.”
My temper flared at the words that came out of his mouth so easily—like he was used to sleeping with whatever pretty woman happened to catch his eye—and I felt my shoulders stiffen as I glared at him over my wine goblet once again.
“And what makes you think I would want to share my bed with you?”
I demanded hotly, angry that he would suggest such a thing given the differences in our stations.
