Rise of the Unfavored Princess-Chapter 131

Chapter 131: Ch. 130: Across the Pond

Amir shakes his head, feigning confusion. ｆ𝘳e𝒆w𝗲𝐛𝘯𝐨νe𝚕.cｏ𝓶

“I’m sorry, are you mistaken about yesterday’s matter?” He scratches at his head, totally selling his confusion too.

I’m fatigued, my tolerance for putting up with nonsense at an all-time low.

“When I heal people, I can feel their injuries briefly,” I explain without dancing around the matter. “That was a knife wound.”

“How are you so-” Amir asks but I cut him off.

“That. Was. A. Knife. Wound.” I’ve experienced enough that I can discern the difference in my sleep. I would also kill for some coffee right now.

The kingdom of Aidel produces the precious coffee beans I need, but with the tentative relationship our empire still has with them, it wasn’t until a few years from now that the lucrative trade of the beans begins.

.....

“Did you do it to elicit pity?” I take a chance sip of my tea, which has gone cold. “That was a foolish ploy. You should know that in a royal family, blood is something we are acquainted with from youth.”

“Even for a princess as cherished as yourself?”

“Especially for a princess such as myself.” I cannot bring myself to repeat his outrageous claim of myself being “cherished”.

“With that said, I do appreciate your aid yesterday. You did initially prevent the griffin from consuming me as a midday snack. However, the fact that you tried to use a false injury to trick me cancels out your aid. So now, we are even.” I sadly eye the bell that lies on the table beside me, so great is my desire for a fresh cup of tea. But calling in Sage right now would bring an unwanted pair of eyes into this situation.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Prince Amir sighs, leaning back onto the opposite sofa like he’s relaxed in his home.

“I learned from the best.” The best being Clever Jack, who manages to rob me blind every time we interact. “Want a cookie?”

“I’ll pass. The food in this empire does not entirely suit my tastes,” the princeling admits, staring at the scrumptious cookies like they’ve got mold growing over them.

“Tell me about it. Not enough seasoning,” I gripe. I’d practically had a stroke when I saw that neither tacos nor tabasco sauce existed in this world. “I had to teach the chefs around here how it’s done.”

Amir sits up enthusiastically, finding a kindred spirit for food before him.

“Then you would absolutely adore the cuisine of Aidel. We have more rice dishes than can be counted, stews cooked with lamb and vegetables, stuffed grape leaves, and so much more.” Amir speaks with his hand on his chest as if he were proclaiming the holy word.

I’ve heard of all the dishes he speaks of and my mouth waters with Amir’s generous descriptions. But it all comes to a record screeching halt when I recall a very important detail.

“I am not going to marry you,” I tell Amir point-blank.

Amir smirks. “Do you even have a choice? Besides, you cannot do much better than me in terms of princes from Aidel. I can recognize your potential. Together, we could do great things.”

“Why would I want to marry you, Amir?” I ask, shattering his pretty vision into pieces. “Have you ever sat back and asked yourself what would make you a great husband? Because from where I’m sitting, I’d be even more miserable in Aidel than here. And that’s saying something.”

A vein ticks at his jaw. It seems that even the happy-go-lucky prince can get irritated.

“With all due respect, I don’t think you’re considering everything, princess,” Amir says through clenched teeth.

“Ha! Believe me, I have, prince,” I counter. “You are not born of the queen nor are you born of a favored concubine. You don’t have much power gathered under you. Oh, and don’t think I don’t know about the two concubines you have already accepted from the daughters of ministers who support you. I could never tolerate my husband having another woman besides me. Not in this life, and not the next.”

“Any other lesser wives I take in would have to bow down their heads before you,” Amir says, completely glossing over my complaint.

“What’s not clicking? I mean- what do you not comprehend? I will not be the woman you marry. And if you try to take me with you across the Moor, I will personally see to it that you lose the throne to Rasoul.”

Throwing up the name of the most popular candidate for the Aidelish successor, the legitimate son of the queen, most definitely rankles the foreign prince.

Amir sits in stony silence and I can’t help but add, “We get rumors on our side of the pond as well. Do you think I’d be foolish enough to meet a potential groom without doing research? To be quite frank, you do not meet my standards. Go ahead and try to marry my sister or some noblewoman. I’d be happy to help you choose a good one. But not me. Never me.”

“You strike true with your words,” Amir eventually says.

“I would apologize, but I am not sorry. I would be more than happy to be your friend, however. I believe that if we cooperated as partners, there is much we could accomplish,” I propose, throwing in one final blow called the friendzone.

I mean every word. If Amir and I were the first to open up a trade route for coffee beans, I would become an incredibly rich woman on top of the small fortune I am already beginning to accrue for myself. And I would finally have a solution for my insomnia-induced tiredness.

“You dare to call me weak.” That stubborn thing called male pride cannot help but lash out after the beating it just took. The irritating grin becomes a relic of history as the Aidelish prince finally resembles someone caught within the bitter struggle for power. I would know, I’ve seen the same expression on my face countless times.

“And the true Prince Amir finally joins us.” I give him a slow clap, happy to have riled him up after the way he toyed around with me yesterday.

“You truly think you could stop me if I were to request the emperor for your hand in marriage?” A dark grin that looks out of place on a teenage boy’s face carves itself across Amir’s face. I must admit though, it suits him far more than the sunny smile he’s been sporting ever since I met him.

“My friend, you saw the chaos I was able to cause in the forest all by myself. What kind of madness do you think I will be able to cook up in your home country? Would you be able to forgive yourself if you indirectly became the cause of Aidel’s demise?” I propose instead.

I’ve flirted with it, my appetite for destruction. I curb the hunger, toeing the line with whatever remains of the morals I’ve acquired from my past life. But being dragged screaming and crying to another country would most certainly send me careening over the edge.

I’m even afraid of what I would do in such a situation.

“You dare speak of such things?!” This time Amir’s fury cannot be contained and he smacks the coffee table before him, causing the cookies to jump. I wag my finger at him like he’s a naughty puppy.

“You are too easy to rile up,” I scold Amir. “A king whose emotions can be read like a book does not tend to hold onto a throne for long if he even makes it there.”

I almost feel like I’m scolding Augustus, my older brother, rather than Amir.

Amir sucks in a deep breath, retracting his hand. “My... apologies, princess.”

I smile, not intending to take the matter further. “Not quite what you were expecting when you scheduled for us to meet, hm?”

“Not at all. You are brilliant, Winter.” Amir’s eyes shine reverently, the flint in his words gone as if they were never there. Despite his slip in emotions, Amir is a professional at disguising his true feelings.

“No, you are. The only reason I could see through you is because I’m just like you, fighting tooth and nail for a place in this family. But that also means that my father can see right through you, so be careful,” I warn.

“You’d give me advice?” Amir looks surprised.

I shrug. “I said we would be partners, didn’t I? You could probably use an ally across the Moor.”

Amir suddenly stands up from the sofa, walking around the coffee table, invading my personal space within the span of a second.

“Amir?” I ask, feeling like I’m about to get the tables turned on me.

“Princess.” The Aidelish prince is less than a foot away from me, close enough for me to smell whatever soap he’d used that morning. “May I thank you with a dance at my banquet tomorrow?”

“Your banquet?” I scoff. “It’s just the official welcoming ceremony for all our foreign guests, which extends far beyond you and your kingdom.”

“But I’m the only royalty present, aren’t I?” Amir says with a devilish smirk. Is it weird to say I miss the overly sunny mask he was wearing? The soundtrack for Chris Hansen’s To Catch a Predator plays in my head.

His warm cheek meets my hand, but rather than a tender embrace I shove Amir away. “How about you get out of my face first, kid?”

“Kid?!” Amir slips from my sofa onto the floor in shock and I smother a giggle. “I am a few years your senior, Winter!”

I roll my eyes, after all, if he knew my true age he’d be running for the hills.

“I’ll think about the dance if you go back to your seat,” I say to appease him.

“No, I’m quite afraid it’s time for me to leave. I do have a few other appointments today other than you,” Amir says, rising from the ground with an anticipatory look. I make a mental note to ask Emma to get some kids to tag along to whatever activities are giving the foreign prince such excitement.

“But a word of advice, princess?” I look up, tugged away from my thoughts concerning espionage.

“Hm?” I look up to see Amir paused at the door, his hand on the ornate door handle.

“Some of those people you push away in your heart may care about you more than you know.”