Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 773: Arrest The Chaperone

"How did all of this happen?" Andre demanded as he strode alongside one of the guards, his tone sharp with frustration. The guard, struggling to keep up with the prince’s brisk pace, recounted the events.

"The birds, Your Highness, they came out of nowhere," He explained. "They attacked the guards outside, then vanished just as quickly. It was nothing we’d ever seen before."

"Mmm." Andre made a noncommittal sound, his thoughts elsewhere as they neared the scene of the attack.

Outside, the courtyard was littered with feathers. Servants hurried to clear them away, while a few healers tended to the injured guards. Andre bent down, picking up one of the feathers. It was dark and glossy, almost unnaturally so. He held it up to the Fae light since it was night, scrutinizing it closely.

"Were there any casualties?" he asked.

"No, Your Highness," the guard replied. "No one died, thank the gods. We prioritized the royal family’s safety, sending guards to protect them immediately. The birds seemed more focused on the exterior of the palace, not the inside. Just a few minor injuries among the soldiers and some unlucky palace staff."

The guard paused, then added, "If I were to speak plainly, Your Highness, it seemed more like the birds were putting on a show than staging an attack."

Andre’s eyes narrowed. "Except it was no performance," he muttered, his frown deepening.

"What?" The guard looked at him, confusion etched across his face.

Andre bent the feather in his hand, feeling the brittle structure fold into two. "It was a fucking distraction, you moron!" He tossed the broken feather to the ground, his frustration boiling over as he stomped on it.

Without another word, Andre turned and began striding toward the palace, his mind racing. The guard followed in his wake, still trying to piece together what the prince had just realized.

"Where are you headed, my prince?" the guard asked, struggling to keep up.

He ignored the questions, asking instead, "What about Lady Islinda?" Andre’s voice was filled with urgency. "Did you check up on her?"

"Yes, she’s fine," the guard replied quickly.

But the response only made Andre halt abruptly. He turned to face the guard, his gaze intense and piercing.

"Really? She said that?" Andre’s tone was incredulous.

The guard faltered, unsure how to respond. "Not exactly her, Your Highness. But her chaperone confirmed she was fine and wouldn’t appreciate any disturbance."

For a moment, Andre just stared at the guard, his expression hardening as realization dawned on him. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

Without another word, Andre turned and broke into a sprint, leaving the bewildered guard behind. "Wait, your Highness! What’s wrong?! Where are you going?! What is going on, Your Highness?!" The guard called after him, but Andre didn’t slow down.

Fools, Andre thought bitterly as he raced through the palace corridors. His footsteps echoed through the halls, but he paid no attention to the stares of the passing servants and guards. He had only one destination in mind: Islinda’s quarters.

Andre’s gut twisted with unease as he neared her chambers. The palace was in disarray due to the earlier attack, and the guards were spread thin. Only one guard stood at Islinda’s door, his posture stiffening as he recognized the prince.

"Your Highness," the guard greeted, bowing his head slightly.

Andre didn’t acknowledge him, his focus entirely on the door ahead. His knuckles rapped sharply against the wood, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. His heart pounded in his chest as he raised his hand to knock a third time, but just as he did, the door creaked open slightly, and a woman’s face peeked out—Maxi, Islinda’s chaperone.

"I already told you, Lady Islinda is—" Maxi began, her tone dismissive until her eyes widened in surprise as she recognized who stood before her. Quickly, she masked her reaction, her expression becoming neutral. "Your Highness," she said, bowing her head respectfully. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Andre’s eyes narrowed, catching the slight tremor in her voice. Something was wrong. "Where is Islinda?" he demanded, his tone leaving no room for evasion.

Maxi hesitated, a nervous flicker in her eyes. "Lady Islinda is fine, Your Highness. But it is quite late. What would you expect Lady Islinda to be doing at this hour?"

Andre’s lips curled into a cold smile. He could see right through her carefully chosen words. "Is that so? Then if I were to enter this room right now, I’d find Islinda asleep, wouldn’t I?"

Maxi’s composure faltered for a moment, her eyes darting to the door behind her. The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.

"Move aside," Andre ordered, his voice a low growl.

Maxi didn’t move quickly enough. With a sharp push, Andre shoved the door open, forcing Maxi to stumble back out of his way. He stormed into the room, his eyes scanning every corner for any sign of Islinda. The bed was empty, the covers undisturbed. The wardrobe, the curtains, even the shadows beneath the furniture—he searched everywhere, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?" Andre’s voice was a dangerous whisper as he turned back to Maxi, who stood trembling by the door.

Maxi’s resolve crumbled under the intensity of his gaze. "She’s safe, Your Highness. Aldric will bring her back," she finally confessed the truth.

Except that did little to calm Andre, it made his anger flare instead. The mention of his brother only confirmed his worst fears. Aldric had taken Islinda, and Maxi had known all along.

"Arrest her," Andre snapped at the guard outside the door, who immediately stepped forward to seize Maxi by the arm. "Throw her in the dungeon."

Maxi didn’t resist as she was dragged away, knowing there was no escaping Andre’s wrath.

Andre watched her go, his jaw clenched with fury. He stepped out, heading to go look for Islinda. If the chaperone was right, then Islinda would be back and he would be waiting for her.