The Mad Princess and the Dying Prince novel Chapter 3

The scene inside the carriage was instantly exposed to everyone on the street.

The breathtaking young man in deep purple robes had his head bowed. A girl in a crimson dress was practically straddling his lap, her hand firmly pressed against his bare chest.-

The Prince's tunic was torn open, hanging in disarray.

It looked exactly as though they had just interrupted a passionate, highly inappropriate moment, causing onlookers to flush crimson.

Sharp-eyed commoners caught the scandalous display and collectively gasped in shock.

Wait—did that girl just climb into the carriage and immediately throw herself at the Prince?

Who on earth was she?

With a sharp swish, the heavy drape was yanked closed. Azure immediately delivered a brutal kick to Gaston's chest, sending him flying backward.

"Forgive us, Your Highness!" Azure called out, equally stunned by what he had just seen. How could his master, who detested physical contact, allow someone so close?

Gaston scrambled up from the dirt, his face twisted in humiliated rage. Hopping mad, he shrieked, "You've gone too far, Your Highness! You dare lay hands on my concubine! You filthy, shameless whore!"

Inside the shadows of the carriage, Jareth wore an unreadable expression, his dark, mesmerizing eyes fixed on the girl who had now pulled back. "A concubine?"

By now, Lucia had fully absorbed the chaotic rush of memories belonging to this body's previous owner.

"As if that beast is worthy," she scoffed coldly.

"Six months... and you require me to offer up my body?" His gaze deliberately dragged down her slender curves.

Lucia's expression turned stormy. "Hah, you wish! You'd better keep your breeches laced tight for the next six months. In your current condition, any exertions of the bedchamber will only send you to an early grave!"

Silence stretched between them.

For a young lady, she certainly had a bold mouth on her.

Jareth idly stroked the emerald pendant at his waist, his gaze dropping back down to her fingers.

When she had touched his chest, that cursed shadow had actually recoiled. The bone-deep chill that constantly tormented him had even dissipated marginally.

Lucia sat perfectly still, meeting his intense scrutiny without a single flinch.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify