Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 782: Keeping Secrets

The heavy dungeon door creaked open, as Maxi stepped out. The cold, damp air of the dungeon clung to her skin, a grim reminder of the hours she’d spent in captivity.

Yet, she walked with her head held high, her swag unmistaken. No sooner had she emerged from the dark than Islinda rushed towards her, engulfing her in a tight embrace.

"Thank the gods, you’re okay," Islinda whispered, her voice thick with relief. The tension in her muscles eased as she held Maxi close, her fears momentarily soothed.

Maxi smiled, returning the embrace with equal warmth. For a few precious seconds, the two women clung to each other, drawing comfort from the strong bond of their friendship.

When Islinda finally pulled back, her eyes quickly scanned Maxi’s body, searching for any signs of injury. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Maxi shook her head, her usual bravado coming to the fore. "Nah, those bunch of cunts can’t do a shit to—"

Her words faltered abruptly as she caught sight of a figure standing just around the corner. Her heart skipped a beat, recognizing the figure immediately—Prince Andre. The words she was about to unleash died in her throat, replaced by a forced formality.

"Your Highness," she curtsied at once, the gesture practiced but devoid of genuine sincerity. Fuck those royals.

Prince Andre stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back, exuding the composed aura of royalty. His eyes, sharp and assessing, traveled over Maxi, scrutinizing her with an unreadable expression.

Despite herself, Maxi felt the need to appear submissive; Andre was not a prince to be taken lightly. In a palace filled with cunning and intrigue, he was one of the few who had the wits to see through facades.

"I take it in good faith that you’ve learned your lesson and won’t be attempting such a stunt anytime soon?" Andre’s voice was smooth, yet there was an edge to it, a subtle warning that didn’t escape Maxi’s notice. He arched a brow, awaiting her response.

"Of course, Your Highness," Maxi replied, her tone measured and polite as she lowered her head even further. There was no point in challenging him here, not when she was so freshly released from confinement.

"Good," Andre said with a nod. "The guards will escort you to your room. I will have a word with Miss Islinda."

Maxi’s head jerked up in surprise, her eyes instinctively seeking Islinda’s. A silent exchange passed between them, their eyes communicating words. Islinda gave a subtle nod, a gesture of reassurance. If there was anyone in the palace she trusted, even to a degree, it was Andre.

"Of course, Your Highness," Maxi said,sharing one last lingering look with Islinda before turning to leave. The guards fell in step behind her, leading her back to the safety of their chambers.

As soon as Maxi was out of sight, Andre’s demeanor shifted. He turned to Islinda, his tone now commanding. "Follow me."

A knot of anxiety tightened in Islinda’s stomach as she obeyed, her mind racing with unspoken fears. Every moment she spent in the palace, away from Aldric, was a gamble. Now that her dark Fae side had been revealed, the danger of discovery loomed ever larger. And yet, here she was, hiding her true nature from Andre—the prince who had done so much for her.

They walked in silence through the palace corridors, the familiar path leading them to Andre’s private chambers. The room hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d been here.

Andre suddenly stopped and turned to face her, his gaze piercing. Islinda swallowed hard, the tension between them so thick a knife could pass through it.

Usually, their interactions were lighthearted, filled with harmless teasing. But today, there was no trace of Andre’s usual joviality. His expression was serious, his eyes probing as if trying to uncover the secrets she so desperately wanted to keep hidden.

"Tell me, Islinda," Andre began, his voice low and measured, "is anything the matter?"

"What?" Islinda blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his question.

"Did I do something wrong to you?" he asked with suspicion in his eyes.

"Of course not!" Islinda replied quickly, her voice a little too sharp. She forced herself to smile, trying to dispel his concerns. "You’ve done nothing wrong, Andre."

Andre frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Then why do I feel this distance between us? As if you’re hiding something from me?"

Islinda’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening with each passing second. She knew Andre was perceptive, but she hadn’t anticipated him to suspect so quickly. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. He could hear her heart if he focused, and the last thing she needed was to give herself away.

"Perhaps you’re just overthinking things," she said with a nervous chuckle, doing her best to appear nonchalant. "We haven’t had much time together lately, aside from this invitation to the palace. But if you feel neglected, I apologize."

Andre remained silent, his gaze locked onto hers. His eyes were searching, calculating, as if he were weighing her words against his intuition. The intensity of his stare made her want to squirm, but she forced herself to hold his gaze, hoping to convince him with her sincerity.

He suddenly took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Islinda felt a jolt of fear but suppressed the urge to back away. Running would only confirm his suspicions. Instead, she stood her ground, her mind racing as she tried to anticipate his next move.

Andre stopped in front of her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Their eyes met, and Islinda fought to keep her expression neutral, even as anxiety twisted in her gut. What was he thinking? What did he know? How much does he know?

"What’s wrong, Andre?" she asked, feigning concern. "Have I done something wrong, other than neglecting you? Is that where all these questions are coming from?"

Islinda was proud of how steady her voice sounded, how convincing her act was. Even as her nerves frayed under his scrutiny, she managed to maintain her composure.

But Andre wasn’t fooled. His gaze dropped to the pendant around her neck—the glamor that concealed the Fae markings on her skin. Islinda’s breath caught in her throat. No! He couldn’t touch that.

And yet, his hand reached for it.