The Mad Princess and the Dying Prince novel Chapter 98

Alistair was on the verge of pulling his hair out.

Just then, Prince Jareth and the Crown Prince approached from ahead.

The gathered lords immediately fell silent.

They were not particularly familiar with the adult Prince Jareth. However, many of the men here retained vivid, terrifying memories of him from his childhood.

Relying on the absolute favor of the old king, he had been a terror who respected no one.

Once, the young grandson of an elder lord had caught a rare ornamental fish from the palace pond and smashed it to death. The old king had simply called it the careless act of a child and dismissed the matter, but the young Jareth had responded by shoving the dead fish straight into the boy's mouth.

To this day, that lord's grandson refused to eat fish.

Another minister had once made an offhand comment that Prince Jareth's Mother had lacked propriety in her youth. In retaliation, Jareth had visited the minister's estate and sat there for an entire day, simply staring to see just how 'proper' their family was. When the minister dropped a crumb of bread during a meal and accidentally passed gas, Jareth nearly tore their manor down to its foundations.

In short, he was an utter menace to society.

There were countless stories of a similar nature. When Jareth eventually left the capital, many had breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Were you discussing me?" Jareth asked as he closed the distance.

His pace was slow, but every step seemed to carry a suffocating wave of pressure.

The lords gasped in collective horror.

Gods above, he was so far away—had he truly heard them?

No one dared to answer; instead, they all turned their eyes toward Alistair in unison.

Consequently, Jareth's gaze followed theirs and landed squarely on Alistair.

Back in those days, Alistair had not possessed the rank to attend court, so he was not particularly well-acquainted with Jareth.

Figuring that the royal edict for the marriage was real and that he was now technically the prince's future father-in-law, Alistair straightened his back and met Jareth's stare.

But the moment he locked eyes with Jareth's dark, abyssal gaze, an involuntary shudder ran down his spine.

For such a young man, how could his eyes hold such predatory depth!

The others flinched in fright, instinctively backing away a few paces.

Theron, the Crown Prince, pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Uncle Jareth..."

"Do you see?" Jareth said, his voice ice-cold. "I am already a terrible prince. So long as Lady Lucia is a match for a prince like me, that is all that matters."

With that, his eyes drifted back to Alistair's face.

"If she was raised in the wild, shouldn't the blame fall upon Lord Beaumont? Lord Beaumont, what kind of father are you?"

Confronted like this, the color drained from Alistair's face once more.

"Well, Your Highness, sending Lucia to the countryside was truly unavoidable. Back then..."

"Do I look like I want to hear your tall tales?" Jareth interrupted. "In short, if anyone ever insults her lack of manners in the future, I will hold you personally responsible."

Having delivered his warning, he departed with Theron at his side.