Five - Going Too Far

RPOV

Prince Adrian Ivashkov is here in England? From what I've heard, he was a scandalous scoundrel who did nothing but bed various women, smoke cigars, and drink. Finding out that he needed a royal girl to marry was a definite surprise—he didn't seem like the sort of man who'd maintain a long-term commitment to one lady.

Vasilisa and Jillian squealed like blushing schoolgirls and jumped in excitement all around Rhea. Father moved away to give them space, wincing from their loud noise. I secretly rolled my eyes at my stepfamily and went to stand beside him. "They're immensely happy upon hearing his arrival," I noted unenthusiastically. "Did the notice say how Prince Adrian was planning on choosing a bride?"

Father suddenly seemed tired. Slight wrinkles were engraved in his tanned face, standing out like cuts. "It said that his parents, King Nathan and Queen Daniella, will host a party for him. All maidens of at least noble blood are invited. He will get to know the girls and make his decision from there," he replied with disapproval. Father crossed his arms, his dark chestnut eyes darkening. "That bastard's probably going to just bed all of the girls then choose the prettiest," he spat out quietly, grinding his teeth.

I'd never knew Father disliked Prince Adrian this much. Sure, he probably did unspeakable things, but was he really that superficial?

I faced him, curiosity filling my body. "Is all of that true, Father? Does he seriously behave that way?" After asking, I realized that I'd kind of pleaded. I supposed I had this idealistic vision of what a prince should be.

"There've been…instances in the past where Prince Adrian has engaged in…unruly behavior. He likes to throw parties and loves women…" Father cut himself off and shook his head. He then took a deep breath and sighed. "Look, Rosemarie, I know you'd like to go meet him, but I just want you to be careful. Don't involve yourself with someone like him."

Before I could respond, Vasilisa shoved me out of the way, her jade-green eyes lit with disbelief. "Prince Adrian is not like that at all. He's an amazing man!" She flipped her platinum-blond hair over the shoulder of her silver-gray dress. Father gave her an incredulous look, astounded by her apparent naivety.

Rhea then appeared, Jillian by her side. "He definitely is. I would absolutely have him marry either of my daughters," she agreed, her pale face glowing with approval. Jillian nodded, staring dreamily into the distance as she pictured herself as Prince Adrian's wife. It seemed like everyone in this manor was brainwashed…It was quite nauseating.

"But didn't you hear what Father said?" I tried to reason, moving my arms about in wild gestures. "Prince Adrian isn't what we think. He's not the innocent royal we want him to be!" How could they be such ignorant fools to the truth? Well, Father's claims hadn't actually been proven to us, but I believed them, and they should as well.

Suddenly, three pairs of jade-green eyes stared at me. They were narrowed, offense and annoyance swimming in their depths. "Don't you have some floors to clean?" spat Vasilisa, her delicate hands on her hips. "Stop talking and get to work!"

Father eyed her, silently reprimanding. "Watch your tone, Vasilisa, or I'll have you clean the floors and the entire manor," he fiercely threatened. She ceased speaking then sauntered off to attend to her pointless matters. Jillian followed her like a stooge, their silver-gray and royal-purple gowns colliding on the smooth floors.

I huffed in relief before stretching my body and going back to work. I felt Rhea sneer at me viciously, yet when I turned around, she grabbed Father by the arm and led him to the iron staircase. "Oh Ibrahim, don't be so hard on Vasilisa. Now, come with me. You need to relax," she suggestively told him, a seductive look claiming her features.

Father suddenly took Rhea in his arms and raced themselves up the wrought stairs. I distantly heard the sound of a door being slammed after she squealed in delightful excitement. Sadness and anger befell me as I clutched the mappe in my hand.

IPOV

Once we reached the master bedchamber, I gently set Rhea onto the spacious bed that Janine and I used to share. Every time I looked at it, all I could picture were memories of my late wife and I lying together under the silk sheets: Janine's beautiful, auburn curls framing her face as she slept; her hazel eyes twinkling with passion as we made love; her rare, affectionate smile whenever Rosemarie joined us; and, her rich and vibrant laugh as I told her humorous jokes.

It was as if her presence would never fade from this space. No matter how hard I had tried to overcome my tragic loss, my first love still consumed my mind.

"That daughter of yours can be quite a riot," Rhea said as her fingers started taking off my suit jacket. "She needs to learn her place." And just like that, my pleasant reminisces shattered as the present hijacked my brain. I really wished I could ignore Rhea's words about Rosemarie, but it was impossible. How could she call her a 'riot', when she barely even knew her? Did she have something against her? And if so, why?

My hands gripped hers, momentarily stopping her from undressing me. "Rosemarie is a wonderful daughter. She isn't a disrespectful delinquent. She's simply passionate," I calmly opposed, restraining myself from lashing out. Rhea gazed up at me with her jade-green eyes, eyes that had been so humiliated and betrayed when we first began courting. Recently, they seemed filled with disgust and hatred, more so than anything...Why did she still appear so unhappy?

My new wife barked out a harsh laugh. "I beg to differ. She gives me such an attitude whenever I tell her to do the chores. Such unacceptable behavior."

I sighed and ran my hands over my face, getting drained. "We have staff in the manor. None of us need to tend to common, household duties. Also, you're probably asking her to do an amount of chores that are too much for a single person," I reasoned, fighting the urge to vehemently argue yet again. Rhea narrowed her gaze for a few moments before rolling her eyes. My goodness, could she not find it in her to give Rosemarie a chance? She had seemed interested in being her new maternal figure while we were courting...Had she only feigned it to appease me?

"She's able to get all of them done whenever I ask her. They're not too much," Rhea fiercely disagreed. I didn't completely believe her, and she gave me no time to question her, for she freed her hands from my grip and resumed undressing me. "Enough talking about Rosemarie. Let's get back to relaxing, shall we?" she seductively suggested, locking our gazes into a lustful stare as my jacket came off, then my shirt and trousers and shoes. I paused once I was left in my britches.

"We don't have to do this right now," I objected, even though it was most likely too late to stop. It killed me being intimate with Rhea; it felt as if I was committing adultery against Janine. I wanted to be eternally loyal to her in every way, but I knew deep inside that I had to move forward. I had to forget. Besides, if our roles were reversed, she would've probably married again and been intimate with her new husband too.

A sudden voice whispered from the shadows inside my head, No she wouldn't have...

Rhea's scoff killed my conscience's talking. "Come on, Ibrahim. We've only been intimate once, on the night of our wedding. We're married now. There's no reason to be resistant anymore," she encouraged, taking off her dress, petticoat, brassiere, and bloomers in one fluid motion. My eyes widened at her beauty. I may have regretted marrying again, but I would always view Rhea as an attractive woman, and she knew it. She stood up and gripped my britches, ready to yank them down.

"Wait!" It came out before I'd even thought about it.

Rhea threw up her hands. "What is it?!"

I took a deep breath and stared her in the eye. "Will you promise me that you will be nice to Rosemarie?"

"Ibrahim, don't be ridiculous."

"I don't want to hear it. Promise me that you will be nice to my daughter from now on," I demanded. I looked at Rhea long and hard until she finally exhaled and nodded her platinum-blond head.

"I will try my hardest," was all she said. I couldn't exactly tell if she was being sincere, so I just decided to cease talking and save myself from the headache that would ensue. Rhea took this as a cue to resume her ministrations, and she took off my britches and lay down on the expansive bed, waiting for me to join her.

I closed my eyes and pictured her as Janine. Then, I joined her.

RPOV

When I finished, I collapsed onto my soft, comfortable bed and stared at the lavender ceiling. My body ached again, like yesterday, but it was slightly less bad now that I was used to it. I had no idea what time of day it was, but I didn't really care. I was tired and very close to drifting into a dreamless slumber.

Out of nowhere, my friends barged into my bedchamber. Mia settled on the side of my bed while Christian leaned against the ebony bedframe. Edison and Mason went to stand near the two. All of their eyes were alert.

"Did you hear, Rosemarie?" asked Mia, her blond curls lightly swinging around her face as she smiled widely. "Prince Adrian is in England!"

Christian rolled his ice-blue eyes and sarcastically replied, "How exciting. I'm bumbling with joy." Mia scoffed at him, slapping his fairly muscular arm. He rolled his eyes again before directing his attention to me.

Edison came forward, his hazel-eyes somewhat dark. "I kind of agree with Christian, Rosemarie. Prince Adrian isn't the princely of princes, if you know what I mean," he warned almost protectively, his words mirroring what Father had said.

I sat up, my legs folding underneath my body. "Wait just a moment. I have to ask you all something. How did you even get here?" I wondered in complete flabbergast.

"We simply got rides and asked for entrance. Then, we asked where you were, and once we knew, we came here," answered Mason nonchalantly.

His words did nothing to dwindle my confusion. My mind was still spinning. "So you just had to come talk to me about Prince Adrian's arrival after the country received the notice?" They all nodded in confirmation, however Christian still seemed pretty indifferent.

Mia scooted closer, her magenta gown brushing my dress. "I can't wait for the party! I'm going to have my dress be spectacular and I'm going to make sure I dance with him and just—oh! It'll be so amazing. I can already picture it," she gushed, resembling Vasilisa and Jillian's behavior a few hours ago.

Edison frowned, clearly not happy. "Mia, Rosemarie, listen to me, please. Prince Adrian—"

He was interrupted by Vasilisa, who came in unannounced, her silver-gray dress trailing behind her like a train. Everyone sent her cold glares as she went to my dresser and rummaged through my jewelry box. I called as kindly as I could, "What are you doing?"

She rudely replied without even looking, "I'm getting some accessories for tomorrow. Now go back to your stupid friends and leave me be." Red-hot anger filled the atmosphere—it was so palpable—but no one said anything, except for Christian, who stormed over to her and yanked her around.

Vasilisa gasped.

His eyes were as sharp as ice. "Will you show some respect and politeness for once, you mean bitch? Why do you've to be so damn cruel?" he growled at her.

My stepsister curled her glossed lips into a snarl. She pointed her pale finger at him. "I'm so damn cruel? You are the one whose parents committed treason against our country. That's the cruelest crime against the law. And it served them right. They deserved it, you hellish bastard!"

Out of nowhere, Christian's hand swung out and slapped her right across the cheek. Hard. Everyone's eyes bugged out of there head in disbelief, and I got off my bed quickly to get between him and Vasilisa, who was cradling her reddening cheek.

"Enough of this!" I ordered.

Vasilisa spat at Christian, "How dare you hit me." Her jade-green eyes were on fire.

His were cold, unregretful, and deeply blue. "I've every right to hit a girl not acting like a lady. And you were acting downright rotten." Christian stepped closer, nearly squishing me into my stepsister. His voice was low and menacing. "If you ever talk about my parents again, there will be hell to pay."

I touched his jacketed shoulder lightly, not wanting to put him on edge even more. I made sure my voice was soft. "It's getting late, Christian. You should probably go home." He met my gaze and stared at me in silence for several moments before nodding. He then left without uttering a word, slamming my door behind him.

Vasilisa huffed and marched out as well, mumbling curses under her breath.

After a while, the stunned silence dissipated and everyone began moving, as if they had been frozen for a thousand years and were now coming back to life. Mia got off my bed, her pretty blue eyes disturbed. "I'm going to go too. See you tomorrow, Rosemarie." She gave me a hug before quickly walking out.

Edison came up to me. He put on a smile and tried to sound humorous. "My goodness, who knew Vasilisa could be such a beast." I forced out a small laugh, but I didn't mean it. Edison then cleared his throat and told me goodbye before leaving.

Mason was the last to go. His baby-blue eyes had lost their disbelief, and now, they seemed sad, sympathetic, and angry. He rested his lightly tanned hands on my upper arms and pulled me to his chest. I welcomed it and closed my eyes. "It'll get better," he whispered. "I promise."

I looked up at him. "Thanks, I appreciate it," I whispered back. After more silence, I finally said, "You should go, Mason. Goodnight."

Mason nodded and went to the door, but he didn't exit. He just held the gold knob in his hand and stared at me. I could practically feel his blue eyes penetrating my soul. "Goodnight," he softly replied.

And with that, he was gone.

Christian avoided us the next day. He didn't speak to us in class; he didn't look our way; and, he abandoned us at lunch. I deeply wanted to talk to him about what had occurred last night, but he kept himself distant, acting like a brooding, black raven in a dark forest.

He didn't want company.

After his squabble with Vasilisa, I had went to her bedchamber and completely chastised her. I had told her that what she'd said was out of line and absolutely unforgivable. I remembered the stubborn look in her jade-green eyes when I'd basically yelled at her. She seemed like she hadn't cared since her arms had been crossed over her chest and she hadn't looked at me.

However, I was sure there had been a regretful, guilty look hidden in her gaze.

Had she really felt terrible for treating Christian that way? I doubted it. But was she a human being who was able to feel emotions and make mistakes? Definitely. Maybe Vasilisa had wished she could take her words back. Maybe after I had left her bedchamber, she stuffed her face in her feathery pillow and cried.

I shook those thoughts away as I sat down on an empty bench inside of the main building. Like Christian, I wanted to be alone. The weather was beautiful outside, sunlight spilling through the stained-glass windows. The colorful mosaics glittered alongside them. The brightness did nothing to lighten my mood, though.

I took my turkey and cheese sandwich out of my bag and bit out a piece.

Suddenly, Jillian appeared in the hallway and flicked her head back and forth, looking for someone. Once she peered in my direction, she hurried over to me, plopping down on the wooden bench. Her light brown hair hung around her flushed face in tangles.

I arched a brow. "What do you want?" It came out a bit harsh, but I didn't care.

Jillian released a heavy breath. She seemed guilty and self-hateful for some reason. "Vasilisa said she's sorry about everything that happened last night. She understands that she had no right to say those words to Christian."

My hand set my sandwich on my lap. I narrowed my eyes at her. "If Vasilisa is truly sorry and wants forgiveness, she needs to address that to Christian, not have you play messenger." Jillian flinched at my terse tone, and I immediately felt bad for being hard on her.

She wasn't the one who hurt my friend, after all.

Jillian nodded. When she spoke, her voice was very soft. Her fingers fiddled. "I know, but I can't help feeling responsible for what Vasilisa did. I should've prevented her from engaging in that behavior, yet I didn't."

I softened, scooting closer to her and placing my hand over hers. Jillian met my gaze, her jade-green eyes appearing so different from their usual look. "You didn't know what Vasilisa was doing, and that's not your fault. She needs to take full accountability for her actions, not dump them on you."

My stepsister nodded, a shy smile spreading across her pale face. "Thank you, Rosemarie. It was really wonderful hearing that." She then rose, her turquoise gown swaying around her. "I'll tell Vasilisa what you said. She can decide what to do from there," Jillian declared, gaining some internal strength.

I told her that I'd see her later, and she similarly replied before walking away.

My body was overcome with disbelief. I would've never expected to have a civil conversation with my stepsisters or at least one of them. Maybe they were finally starting to come around and realize that being cruel to others was not good.

I was going to resume eating my sandwich when a crowd of British guards appeared, marching down the hallway in disciplined unison and crisp uniforms. Feminine squeals sounded and I soon witnessed multiple girls gathering around the guards, trying to talk to whoever was being protected. When they came closer, I dropped my food on the marble floor.

It was Prince Adrian.

He sent the other schoolgirls dazzling smiles, his pearly-white teeth brilliantly sparkling. I wanted to roll my eyes at him. It seemed so typical of him. Quite unexpectedly, he took notice of me sitting by myself and ordered his guards to stop. My body froze as he walked up to me and bowed, taking my gloved hand in his to kiss it.

The girls frowned at not receiving Prince Adrian's attention and started leaving, much to the relief of his guards.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you, miss," he greeted gentlemanly, a British-French accent lacing his words. His emerald-green eyes twinkled like gems as he gazed into my dark, chestnut orbs. "I am Prince Adrian of England, and you are?"

It was a while before I could find my voice. I offered a sincere smile. "Rosemarie Mazur, your excellency. I am the daughter of Lord Ibrahim Mazur." Prince Adrian gave me a glorious grin and sat down beside me, leaning close and intensely holding my gaze.

I could hardly breathe.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Yet, why on earth is she sitting by herself?" he wondered a little too genuinely. Prince Adrian was definitely interested in me, and I didn't really like him showering me with so much attention before his party. It was a little uncomfortable. He needed to act neutral before choosing his bride.

A blush began surfacing on my cheeks, but I forced it away. "Oh, why thank you. And I'm sitting alone because I…had a rough night and day. I'm spending some time alone." Prince Adrian rose his semi-dark eyebrows, taking my response as rejection. "I'm not telling you to leave, my prince. I was only answering your question."

He fell relieved at that, smoothing over his stylishly messy, medium brown hair.

Before he could reply, I crossed my legs under my sapphire-blue dress and questioned, "Why do you've both a British and French accent? You're from the royal family of England."

Prince Adrian stared at me in confusion for a second before realization washed over his handsome features. "That is very true, Miss Mazur. However, my Aunt Tatiana, the past queen of England, retired to France after my father wedded my mother. I stay with her sometime each year," he explained.

I nodded. After sitting with him for a few, awkward moments, I cleared my throat. "Well, lunch is about to end. I must be on my way to class." I stood up and gathered my things, picking my forgotten sandwich off the floor, feeling a little sad for not be able to finish it. I then politely curtsied and started leaving; however, Prince Adrian gripped my arm.

"Wait." He rose from the bench. I didn't notice how tall and lean he was—I assumed he was a little over six feet, and his body was nicely toned under his royal suit. I wanted to pinch myself for having the absurd urge to touch him. "I apologize for grabbing you like that, yet I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to come to the palace for dinner. The night before my party," Prince Adrian hopefully offered.

My eyes widened in surprise. "Are you inviting the other maidens?"

He put on his signature, dazzling smile and shook his head. "No, Miss Rosemarie. Just you." I was astounded. I didn't know whether to accept or decline. Accepting his invitation would be unfair to the other girls who were going to attend his party, since he already favored me. However, I supposed it wouldn't hurt to have dinner with him. Maybe it wouldn't change anything.

Suddenly, Father's voice invaded my mind. I just want you to be careful. Don't involve yourself with someone like him.

Did I really have to worry about Prince Adrian's unruly behavior? Was there anything to be aware of? He did seem arrogant and deeply captivated by all attractive women; however, he didn't smell like smoke or alcohol. Maybe that was in the past...

Had Father been telling me lies because he simply didn't like him?

I gave my answer after moments of contemplation. "I'd love to."

I know Dimitri hasn't appeared yet, but I'm spacing everything out. Just stay tuned!

Adrian's party will happen before Dimitri's family's ball.

Will Lissa ever apologize to Christian?

Should Rose have listened to her father's warning, and was he even telling the whole truth?

Until next time...