Chapter 20

Riley’s POV

I had just gotten summoned by the court. The summons had arrived just after breakfast, a crisp white envelope bearing the court’s official seal. My stomach had churned as I read the formal, almost chillingly polite, request for my presence. I knew this was coming. Norman had taken the step to let our marriage go public, just before he went for a quick journey with Chadwick. I could also understand one thing, Norman’s sudden announcement of our marriage had sent ripples of shock through the kingdom, and I knew the court wouldn’t take it lying down.

Now, I was on my way to the court as it was close to the time stipulated in the letter. Norman wasn't around to escort me. He had left for an important meeting yesterday noon and wouldn't be coming back until later today. Although I wasn't bothered about his absence, I would face the men of the court and try to be knowledgeable in my dealings with them.

After walking a while, I entered the grand hall, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room was filled with the scent of old wood and polished marble, and the air crackled with an unspoken tension. The faces of these noble men, were a mixture of curiosity, disapproval and outright hostility. I recognized Mr. Crestwood, his usual jovial expression replaced by a look of grave concern.

Elder Thomas, a man I had no much relationship with and only recognized from afar led the questioning. His face seemed permanently etched with disapproval. His voice was smooth, almost oily, as he asked about the circumstances of my marriage to Norman. I answered each question carefully, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. I spoke of our connection, of the bond we shared, trying to convey the depth of our feelings without revealing too much. I knew most of these men here would use any of my slip ups against me so I was being careful to avoid that.

“And your relationship with the other princes?” Elder Thomas asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is it…similarly close?”

“We are…acquainted,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “But my relationship with Norman is…unique.”

Elder Thomas chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Unique? Is it now? Rumors abound, Princess Riley,” he paused then muttered, “That's if I can call you a princess, considering the unacceptable circumstances surrounding your marriage to our noble prince.” He gave me a disdainful look, pausing before he continued. “As I was saying, there are rumors. Rumors of a… particular closeness with not one, but two of the other princes. Kirk and Damon, to be precise.”

Closeness with Kirk and Damon?

My breath hitched. Who the hell gave them that information? Someone must be out to completely destroy me? And this person or persons reports whatever nonsense to these men of the court? My silence seemed to confirm his suspicions. A collective gasp rippled through the room. The other men of the court exchanged shocked glances, their whispers buzzing around me like angry bees.

“So, it’s true,” Elder Thomas said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You claim to be mated to three princes? Tell me, Princess Riley, from what esteemed family do you hail? What noble lineage grants you the right to… monopolize the affections of our noble princes?”

My face burned with shame. I stammered, trying to form a coherent response. “I…I don’t…”

“No noble lineage, I presume?” Elder Thomas cut me off, his voice sharp as a knife. He turned to the other members of the court, his voice rising in volume. “This woman, this… commoner, this… slave…”

The word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My blood ran cold. Slave. He dared to call me a slave? My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to defend myself against this blatant injustice. But I knew any outburst would only fuel their prejudice.

Suddenly, the doors to the hall burst open. Norman stood there, his face a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with a cold fire. He strode towards Elder Thomas, his voice coming out in a low growl. “Don’t you ever call my wife a slave again.”

The room fell silent. Every eye was fixed on Norman, his presence radiating power and authority. He stood before me, a shield against their hostility, his hand protectively gripping mine. In that moment, despite the fear and uncertainty churning inside me, I felt a surge of hope. He was here. He would protect me. We would face this together. But even as I clung to that hope, a cold dread settled in my stomach. This was just the beginning. The fight for our love, for our right to be together, had just begun. And I knew it wouldn't be easy.

My thoughts raced, a whirlwind of fear and anger and defiance. How dare they question me, judge me, reduce me to nothing more than a slave? I was Riley. Nate did more than this but I didn't give up on myself. I was strong. I was resilient. I had survived worse than this. And I wouldn’t let them break me. I wouldn't let them tear us apart. I squeezed Norman's hand, drawing strength from his presence. We would fight this. We would win. I had to believe that. Because if I didn't, the weight of their prejudice, of their hatred, would crush me.

I looked at Norman, at the fierce determination in his eyes, and I knew, with a certainty that went beyond logic, that we would find a way. We had to. We would forge our own path and triumph against all the odds against us.