Page 32 of Is It Wrong to Escape My Fate? (Dealing With Fate #1)
The dining hall was really the best — if not the only —way to gauge the student body’s consensus of the day. Thanks to the Royal Announcement earlier, the area was abuzz with gossip about who the “princess” was.
“It’s Lady Cecilia Valonde, isn’t it?” I heard one girl theorize to her friend. It was a fair assumption; her engagement and consequent quick dismissal was well known throughout the Kingdom, according to Mia.
“I don’t think so,” the friend replied. “The Crown Prince already broke up with her, and he has a reputation to mess around. Once he’s done with you, you’re out. No repeats.”
Interesting. Winston was a slut like me. The fundamental difference was that I was very much okay with repeating. Multiple times. All the time. Consensually, of course.
“Did he even get another woman after their engagement fell through?” the first girl asked as they started walking away out of earshot.
“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t, has he?” was the last thing I heard before they were too far away from where I sat with Mia, my knights, and Dahlia.
“They’re in for a shock when they realize the truth,” Dahlia laughed into her food.
“Well, Miss Bea is fit to be a princess,” Mia smiled at Dahlia, and was it any surprise that Mia figured it out quickly, too?
“I sincerely doubt that, and I’m not just saying that to be contrarian,” I mumbled after swallowing my food. “I don’t have the charm and the economic knowledge to lead a kingdom. Count me out.”
“The Crown Prince will handle all of that as long as you’re arm candy beside him,” Dahlia cackled. “Who needs to be smart when you can be pretty instead?”
“ And I don’t have a powerful family,” I added, shooting a withering glare at Dahlia as she continued to titter. “I’d like to believe the Prince is smarter when choosing his future wife.” His voice already echoed in my head, chastising me for calling him “the Prince” again.
As if on cue, through the enormous windows of the dining hall, Claude and Winston were walking together and getting closer. They weren’t heading toward the hall, nor were they even looking in our direction, but I felt extra conscious about my actions anyway.
“Can you imagine becoming a princess though? It’s the easy life, and it comes with wealth and prestige.”
“If it’s so great, why don’t you sign up?” I snarked.
“No thanks, I have a cute mage waiting for me at home,” Dahlia snarked back, giggling.
I immediately felt a pang of jealousy. Not only did she have a loving family that insisted she came home weekly, but she also had a sweetheart waiting for her. I also wanted those things.
But was I being greedy? My own parents loved me, I had an older brother who doted on me, and I even had four men who made me feel great. It wasn’t exactly like hers, and when you counted the people, I had more than her. But why did that make me so envious?
God, staying here for so long was messing with my head. I didn’t want to lose my sense of self, and the more I existed here, the less I felt like me.
Was I really doing the right thing?
Unsurprisingly, my other Elemental classes didn’t fare any better. It was a good thing Professor Strom — Uriel — had informed all my professors that I had an issue with my magic, so they could make their own observations. And the consensus was: something was holding me back.
Was it a mana block? A curse? A psychological issue? That was the purpose of my extra class starting this Thursday. Unfortunately, the longer I thought about it, the more I believed it was my outsider status, and it was a thing I could never reveal to anyone.
Did that mean it was impossible for me to cast magic? That would put a huge damper on my escape plan. Maybe outright nullified it.
Shit. I didn’t have any other plans.
The following morning, I put on hold my Teleportation magic research and switched to looking up historical accounts of mages who had their magic tampered with.
I might get ideas on how to fix it even if my assumption was wrong.
Since this problem wasn’t really a secret, I convinced Elias to help me along with Dahlia.
I didn’t consider Claude since I didn’t want to bother a Champion.
We breezed through the morning classes — Runes, Arithmetic, and Ethics.
I excused myself to the restroom while Dahlia went ahead to the dining hall to meet up with Mia and my knights, and Elias ran off as usual.
We would meet at the library after lunch.
We were free all afternoon to research until an hour before dinnertime when I was scheduled to meet with Vincent for his weekly lab consultation.
All in all, it was a solid short-term plan.
My head hurt like a bitch.
That was my first thought as I woke up, blinking my eyes open. I didn’t remember sleeping, and I certainly didn’t remember going to a brothel, if the sounds from below were any clue.
I was laid sideways on a wooden floor. Kinda grimy. As I tried to sit up, I felt my arms bound behind me, and my legs tied at the ankles. My mouth bit a rag tied to the back of my head.
It clicked at once. Kidnapped.
Really, as a noble daughter, wasn’t this expected?
First lesson in 101 Nobility: you will be kidnapped.
That was the point of having bodyguards.
I didn’t blame them, though; this was entirely on me — I insisted they meet with me at the dining hall after their morning training, and we had been doing that since last week.
Whoever kidnapped me knew my schedule; struck during that brief amount of time where I didn’t have my knights with me. At least that was info I could work with. That could only mean they were a regular at the academy, either as a student or a staff member. Or knew someone who did.
Why bring me to a very public place, though? Anybody could easily discover me in this room. Unless everyone in this brothel was all in on this.
It was dim inside the room, and the sky from what I could see through the window told me it was almost time for dinner.
I should be with Vincent right now, talking about his latest potion experiment.
Was he looking for me? Did my knights notice I was missing?
What did Elias and Dahlia do when I didn’t show up at the library?
When I heard footsteps nearing the room, I pretended to be unconscious and closed my eyes. The door opened with a loud squeak, and two, maybe three people walked in before the door squeaked closed again.
“Man, rich girls are bred different, aren’t they?” one man asked the other; I didn’t recognize the voice.
Something prodded my thighs, and I tried hard not to react. “Can’t touch this one at all?” Another guy huffed, and his question calmed me despite the feeling of my dress getting pulled up to my waist.
“Nah, the Lord won’t like that,” the first man confirmed.
“Maybe we can look, though. Didn’t say anything about bringing her clothed.
” A bunch of laughter sounded, followed by the ties of my uniform at the front getting loosened.
I could feel my heartbeat speeding up; if I didn’t calm down, my breath would follow, and they’d know I was awake.
A hand brushed my collarbone, and in the next second, the neckline of my dress was pulled down, the cool atmosphere touching the skin of my bare breasts. Chuckles and groans rippled around me.
It was times like these I wished I had a sudden awakening, or a level up, and my new powers unlocked. Materialize a weapon out of thin air or summon a creature to maul these bastards down. Set someone on fire while electrocuting another.
But my magic sucked, and my hands were bound, so weapons were useless to me anyway. Was this it for me? Wait for someone to rescue me?
Said magic thrummed within me when a hand caressed my cheek, before sliding down my neck, fingering my collarbone, clutching one of my tits.
“Boss, you said no touching,” a third man complained.
“I won’t leave a mark,” he growled, squeezing me. “Guard the door.”
After footsteps, grunting, the creak and the latching of the door, the hand on my boob resumed fondling me, a thumb brushing my nipple. I tried my best to resist shuddering with disgust.
“I know you’re awake, my lady,” he crooned, the last part mocking. “Open those pretty eyes for me.”
There wasn’t any use pretending, so I opened them with a glare. I didn’t recognize this leader of the kidnappers, but judging from their brief conversation, they were following orders from some lord .
“Feisty,” he hummed, before he pulled me up by the shoulders, sitting me up on the floor while he crouched in front of me. He untied the rag in my mouth. “I wonder what you did to piss off our Lord so much.”
“Something less bad than what I’m about to do to you,” I growled. He chuckled, clearly not believing me, so he didn’t react in time when I head-butted him right on the nose. Blood immediately spurted out of the injury. Before he could make a pained sound, he fell unconscious on the floor.
The ruckus caught the attention of the two hooligans, and they burst inside. “Boss?” One of them asked while the other glanced between their boss and me.
“What the hell did you do?” One grabbed me by the neck. I choked at the tight grip, but in the next second, he was on the floor next to his boss, unconscious.
Witnessing this, the last man didn’t take any chances and pulled out a knife. “What the fuck are you?”
“Just a noble lady,” I answered honestly.
He stepped warily closer; knife pointed at me. “What did you do to them?”
“They passed out,” I explained. It was the truth.
“Wake them up,” he ordered, waving his knife.
I looked from him to the two sleeping bodies on the floor. “I can’t. My hands are tied.” Also the truth.