Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 682

Chapter 682: Dramatic Entrance

"You look dazzling, my lady," Ginger commented, stepping back to admire her and Ailee’s handiwork.

Although it was a mere meeting, Islinda had dressed in her finest attire, complete with a breath-stealing corset. Tonight was the night they planned to put an end to Elena’s manipulation, and she intended to look her best for the occasion.

In reality, the meeting was set because of Elena, and the goal was to expose her in front of everyone. All would bear witness to her crimes, ensuring that when the Raysin family sought vengeance or brought Aldric to trial for their daughter’s death, the evidence would be undeniable.

"I am nervous," Islinda confessed. "What if our plans don’t work? What if Elena is smarter than we thought and there isn’t enough evidence to bring her down?"

"You should take a deep breath, my lady," Ailee said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "In and out... Yes, just like that... very good."

Ailee continued, "Everything is going to go well. We were careful and meticulous, and Elena will suffer for her crimes. Moreover," she added with a reassuring smile, "even if anything goes wrong, you have Prince Aldric to keep you safe. I’m sure he wouldn’t let a scratch come near you."

A blush crept across Islinda’s cheeks. By the gods, she could never get used to this. "You’re right. I should be confident that our plan will work," she said, lifting her chin. "I have the support of the dark Fae prince, so what’s the worst that can happen?"

"Yes, that’s the spirit!"

Islinda looked down to see Prince Wayne curling himself around her leg, trying to draw her attention. She reached down, scratched him on the head, and gave him a good belly rub before turning to Ginger. "I trust that you will take care of him till my return."

"Of course," Ginger cooed, picking up Prince Wayne and cradling him. "You have nothing to worry about. Prince Wayne is a good boy, aren’t you?" She petted him affectionately.

Suddenly, a thought struck Islinda. "Has anyone seen Prince Andre?"

"No, my lady. I have not seen him today," Ailee answered.

"Neither have I," Ginger added, focusing on Prince Wayne.

Islinda frowned. It was unusual for Andre to go an entire day without a word to her, even if Aldric had banned him from speaking to her out of jealousy. But then again, Andre had gone weeks without a message before. Perhaps this was the same situation, she reasoned.

Initially, Islinda had been worried about the possibility of being a half-breed and coming into her powers today. But so far, nothing had happened. She didn’t feel any different, nor had there been any display of abilities. Perhaps Andre had been mistaken.

"It’s time to leave, my lady," Ailee announced.

Ailee would be escorting Islinda to the grand hall and staying by her side throughout the meeting while Ginger took care of things here.

As Islinda and Ailee made their way through the halls of the Winter Palace, they encountered numerous ministers and high-ranking officials heading in the same direction. The reactions to Islinda’s presence were varied and intense.

Unlike Astaria, the Fae capital where humans were numerous and tolerated, most Fae of the seasonal courts were unaccustomed to the presence of humans.

Some Faeries regarded her with blatant curiosity, their eyes wide with fascination at the sight of a human in their midst. They whispered among themselves, pointing subtly as they passed, their expressions a mix of intrigue and bemusement.

Others, however, were less welcoming. Their gazes were cold and disdainful, their lips curling in barely concealed contempt. To these Faeries, Islinda was an unwelcome anomaly, an inferior creature who did not belong in their exalted company.

Despite the weight of their stares and the silent judgments they passed, Islinda kept her chin high and her steps steady. She was determined not to show any sign of discomfort or intimidation. Her eyes flicked from face to face, noting the mix of emotions, the range of acceptance and rejection.

At one point, a particularly haughty minister, his robes shimmering with icy elegance, paused directly in her path. He looked her up and down with a sneer, as if evaluating a specimen rather than acknowledging a person.

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