How to Love a Prince

SIXTEEN

Roselia

After that comment from the master of the house himself, there was a suffocating silence—which was only broken when the patriarch picked up his glass of wine, making everyone copy him and engage in a more lighthearted discussion about business and politics.

“Try this one, darling.” Alistair fed me a bite from his food, continuing his play.

Even when his father basically insulted me, he simply continued eating, pretending that nothing was exchanged as he kept on pampering me during the entire dinner.

Eleanor, however, was a different story. Her fake saintess persona slipped for a moment, her eyes glinting with a triumphant malice that she quickly smothered with a practiced, gentle smile.

“If the Houstons can’t triple the investment I gave them for this term, I will dispose of them before this year ends,” Theron spoke bluntly about planning to reduce our city mayor to bits just because he values money more than fame or titles.

"Oh, Theron, dear, you do have such a way with words," she cooed, her hand resting on his. "Always so… direct. It’s a trait one truly learns to appreciate over the years, isn't it, my love? You’re right, though, we should only pay attention to whoever gives us something in return."

"Indeed," Theron said, though his gaze fixed on Alistair, completely ignoring her. "It's a trait that has served this family well. Alistair knows that better than anyone."

Damian, seeing the perfect opportunity, leaned back in his chair, a cynical smirk playing on his lips. "It's why you're such a good public face, isn't it, brother?” the name felt like an insult rather than a form of respect.

“You have your own way of being 'direct' with people, just like Father. That’s why you’re probably doing the same thing to your lovely wife, no?" The last part was a quiet, pointed jab, a direct attack at the sham of our marriage.

…this family really likes mentioning that I’m nothing but a pawn, don’t they?

Alistair’s jaw tightened. He finally looked up, his sapphire eyes locking onto Damian with a controlled fury that only a brother would recognize.

"My relationships are a private matter, Damian. I’m sure you’d understand, given your own, shall we say, 'private' arrangements.” He smiled, yet his last phrase sounded more of a threat, rather than a confirmation.

It was a brilliant counterattack. Damian’s smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of genuine shock and anger.

“Oh, my heavens, the boys are at it again,” Eleanor said, her voice tinkling with forced laughter. She turned to me, her smile a perfect, unmoving mask.

“Roselia, dear, you must tell me what your favorite dessert is. Our chef is a master of patisserie, and a new addition to the family deserves to be spoiled a little.”

To stop their argument from flaming further, Eleanor changed the topic once more—and now the pressure is on me once again.

I was so overwhelmed by the rapid-fire exchange that my mind was blank. Dessert? I could barely remember my own name. My tongue felt like a dry, useless lump.

“I… I’m not sure,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “I like… anything sweet.”

“How very innocent of you,” Eleanor murmured, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Don’t worry, I will help you fit in to the circle. I have a few friends who knows of the best schools to learn about the basics.”

Damian shamelessly chuckled in response, making my brows furrow a little, but I held back any remark and just smiled. “Thank you, Ma’am. I will do my best to adapt right away.”

When I agreed, I saw Alistair look at me from my periphery, causing me to turn, confusedly tilting my head to question his reaction. Instead of receiving words, he just smiled and fed me another bite of his food.

Theron set his utensils down with a quiet finality that made me jump. "Alistair. I trust you are taking care of the logistics for the upcoming press conference. We cannot afford any further… complications." He didn't look at me when he said the last word, but I knew it was meant for me.

"Everything is in place, Father," Alistair replied, his voice calm, the perfect son once more. "I will be managing it personally."

"Good," Theron said, standing up.

"I do hope you two can find a way to make this union work. This family has a reputation to uphold. It would be a shame to have a public spectacle before the year is out.” He nodded once, a gesture so small it was almost invisible, and with that, he left the dining hall.

The moment he was gone, the air in the room seemed to lighten. Damian pushed his chair back with a loud scrape, his previous nonchalance returning.

“Well, that was a treat. See you later, brother,” he said, not even glancing at me before striding out.

Eleanor gave me one last, condescending smile. “I do hope you enjoyed your first official dinner with the family, Roselia. It was… memorable.” She also left, her exit as graceful and cold as her entrance.

I felt the last of my composure crumble. I had failed. I had been a clumsy, speechless fool.

***

Back in our shared bedroom, I can’t even look at Alistair in the eye. I am sure he is disappoi—I mean, MAD at me.

When he suddenly walked back to the door to lock it, I followed his movement with my gaze, unusure of what to expect when he’s back to his true, unpredictable self.

He just stared at me, so, before I end up melting or freezing, I spoke. “I-I know you’re angry, but-”

"I am not angry that you tripped, Perignon. I am angry that you couldn’t keep up.” He cut off, stepping closer until I found myself back out till my back hit the edge of the bed.

“You had one job—one!—to act the loving wife.” He held my wrist, pulling me flushed to his chest as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

“You looked exactly like what you are—a commoner who is in over her head." He leaned in, his voice a low, furious hiss.

“There is no way you pleased my father earlier. And when Eleanor told you she’lle4nroll you to a school, it is an insult that speaks of how moronic you are for not knowing a single damn name of a dessert."

“B-But I just said thank you so she wouldn’t press further or say I’m-”

“You could’ve answered differently.” He cut off, placing a finger on my lips to silence me.

“When people offer to do things for you, the bets response you should ALWAYS say is you’ll let me, your husband, handle it. Because when you take their offers, that means you acknowledge they’re than you. Than us.”

His words were like daggers, each one twisting in my chest. I felt the hot sting of tears welling in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "You’re right. I am a commoner," I said, my voice shaking. "That’s why I don’t know the hints or the hidden meanings you interpret them to be."

Alistair stood up fully, looking down at me with contempt.

"You should know better than to cry, Perignon. When you accepted this job, you should’ve anticipated that there will be more word plays and malice in plain sight. Do you think I’ll need a pawn of a wife to spy for me when there’s no secretes and codes in everything we do or say?”