Page 43 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
I stopped in my tracks, frozen for a moment as I took in the scene.
She was kneeling beside Orin, who sat on the ground, carefully bandaging his arm. Her movements were gentle yet precise, a quiet tenderness in the way she tended to him.
The look in Orin’s eyes were one I knew all too well—a mix of admiration and something deeper, something that made my stomach churn.
“…Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness,” Orin murmured, his voice low and earnest. “You’re always so compassionate.”
She offered a small, warm smile, seemingly unaware of the infatuation in his gaze, her focus entirely on wrapping the bandage. “No need to thank me. You saved me once before, during that attack at the banquet.”
“No,” Orin pressed on, his tone growing more urgent, almost desperate. “It’s you. You make me feel seen, valued. I know this may be too forward of me, but I have to tell you, I—”
“Enough,” I interrupted, unable to hold back any longer. My voice cut through the air like a blade as I strode toward them, my anger barely contained.
Her head snapped up, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before it was quickly replaced by the familiar mask of cool indifference. Orin scrambled to his feet, his eyes dropping to the ground in deference.
“Your Highness,” he said with a quick bow, “the Princess was just passing by and—”
“Leave, Orin,” I ordered, my voice icy and unyielding. “Now.”
Orin hesitated, casting a fleeting glance at her. Only when she gave a subtle nod did he offer another respectful bow and retreat, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
His hesitation only fueled my anger further. A primal rage surged within me, clawing at my chest, as if I could tear Orin apart for daring to look at her that way.
Now, it was just the two of us in the hallway, the silence between us heavy, like an impenetrable wall. I struggled to rein in the storm of emotions swirling inside me, but the bitterness slipped out before I could stop it.
“You seem to be so gentle with everyone,” I said at last, my voice laced with cold sarcasm, barely masking the anger beneath. “Whether it’s Orin or anyone else—as long as it’s not me.”
She calmly gathered the strips of cloth she’d used for the bandage, her expression unruffled. “Does Your Highness have any instructions for me?” she asked, her tone as composed as ever, as if my words hadn’t touched her at all.
“You seem to be kind to everyone,” I said at last, my suppressed rage morphing into a cold, biting sarcasm. “Whether it’s Orin or anyone else—as long as it’s not me.”
She calmly gathered the bandaging cloths, her movements deliberate. “Does Your Highness have any instructions for me?”
“Instructions?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Of course. My instruction is for you to explain what I just witnessed. Your concern for Orin seems to go far beyond what a Princess should show for her husband’s subordinate.”
“I was simply helping an injured person,” she replied, meeting my gaze with unwavering resolve. “As anyone with basiccompassion would do. Especially since he was injured while carrying out your orders.”
“Compassion?” I sneered. “Or do you throw yourself at every man who crosses your path?”
The moment the words left my lips, I regretted them. Her face paled instantly, the color draining from her cheeks.
“I see,” she said quietly, her voice trembling faintly. “So that’s how you view me. And I suppose when you kissed Lady Sophia, it was out of some noble sentiment?”
Her retort left me speechless. I wanted to explain that the kiss was forced upon me by Sophia, but I hadn’t stopped it, had I? And wasn’t she the one who had grown close to Orin first? I couldn’t let myself lose this argument.
“You don’t understand,” I managed to say, grasping for words. “Sophia and I have a complicated history.”
“I understand perfectly, Your Highness,” she replied, her voice so calm it bordered on frigid. “You and Lady Sophia share a deep bond, a history of affection. I, on the other hand, am merely a tool of political alliance, a vessel to break a curse. You owe me no explanations, nor do you need to concern yourself with my feelings.”
“No. That’s not true, Viossi.” I said urgently, reaching out to touch her, but she stepped back swiftly.
“Then what is it?” she countered, her lips quivering. “These past few days, you’ve gone out of your way to ensure I see you and Lady Sophia together, to flaunt your closeness. And now you accuse me of showing basic kindness to Orin? That’s rather hypocritical of you, Your Highness.”
Her words struck me like a blow to the chest. She had seen through everything. But how could she call me hypocritical? Was her relationship with Orin truly as innocent as she claimed?
“How could you ever compare to Sophia?” I shot back, my anger flaring. “She comes from nobility, raised with grace and refinement. And you—you’re nothing but—”
—A substitute bride from who knows where.