Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 196

Chapter 196: The Plan Failed

"What happened?" Rosalind asked, coming to her side before looking back at the door through which Aldric just left.

"I have no idea," Islinda breathed, straightening her rumpled tunic and intentionally not looking Rosalind in the eye as she composed herself.

She felt guilty and dirty, mentally chiding herself for having improper thoughts about someone else’s lover. As much as Islinda tried to deny it, she was sexually attracted to Aldric. She means, who in the world wouldn’t want to shag Aldric? No wonder Rosalind was hung up on him. Yes, his attitude sucked but his face and perfect body were carved by the gods himself.

But then, the thought was dangerous itself and inappropriate. Islinda knew firsthand the dark prince was evil and knew better than to cross that line. She still hadn’t healed over the hurt from Valerie and couldn’t complicate matters. What would people say if she got involved with the dark prince? Her captor.

Aside from that, she aimed to bring Rosalind and Aldric together - which seemed even harder than making a camel go through a needle eye - and snatching him from right under her eyes was a huge betrayal. The thoughts hardened Islinda’s heart and she made up her mind to escape by all means. Aldric was corrupting her soul and had to leave before she lost her morals at the same time.

"He looked furious," Rosalind pointed out, a hint of concern on her face.

"He’s fine!" Islinda snapped at her unintentionally. She was irritated that the Fae was rubbing her feelings for Aldric all over her face - even if that wasn’t the case.

Sensing Rosalind was displeased with her harsh tone of response, she said softly this time, "Aldric is just being Aldric. We got into a bit of an argument, that’s all."

Yeah, a bit of argument that required him shredding his tunic, with her tracing her hands on his chest, and Aldric pushing her onto the table and licking her lower lips. Yep, her lies just kept on piling up. Real smooth, Islinda. Keep up the good work, she sassed inwardly.

"My lady," Someone said and Islinda finally noticed the healer. She remembered her, the Fae who had fixed her injured hand that night

"Zaya at your service, my lady," She bowed low at the waist.

Islinda scratched the back of her head nervously, "Zaya, it is. I am Islinda and you don’t need to do that." She was nothing but a lowly human whose fate was in the hands of a cruel twisted dark prince. She didn’t even own her life anymore.

"It is what is required of me, my lady. Prince Aldric has demanded that I be in your service. He claims that you hurt easily and that I tend to your every wound."

Islinda grimaced at that statement. What has that damned prince been saying with her name? Moreover, who said she hurt easily?! She was not fragile.

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