Free Web NovelChapter 13: This Isn’t A Game, Ethan
Arianna couldn’t answer the question. Her mind kept searching for a way out, for an explanation—anything. She prayed silently, desperately, until it felt as though even the goddess herself had heard her plea and granted her a reprieve.
A knock came at the tent, sharp and urgent. The king’s attention was needed immediately; there was a border issue. Without hesitation, he left. From the look on Cassius’ face, it was clear the matter was serious.
Relief washed over her. Arianna exhaled slowly, forcing her trembling nerves to settle. But even as the tension eased, she knew one thing for certain—this was only temporary. It was only a matter of time before the king returned, demanding answers she didn’t have.
An hour passed.
Still, there was no sign of him.
The waiting drained her. Exhaustion crept in, heavy and unwelcome. She lay back on the bed, though her thoughts fought against sleep. Eventually, fatigue won.
Before drifting off, she made a silent prayer.
Just one more chance, Mother Earth... let me be reborn so I can fix everything.
Her eyes closed slowly.
------
Sunlight hit her face.
Arianna flinched, her eyes opening with discomfort. Morning had come—but something was wrong. This was not her bedroom.
She shot upright immediately.
Reality settled in like a shock of cold water. Yesterday had not been a dream. And she had not been reborn for a third time.
She was still here.
In the king of the North’s tent.
Which meant life had simply continued from the moment she fell asleep.
She glanced to the side of the bed. It was untouched. There was no sign the king had returned during the night.
Arianna sighed, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Her mind churned restlessly. How was she supposed to clear the king’s doubts? How would she ever make him believe her?
A voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Good morning, my lady. May I come in?"
It was Maria.
Arianna’s shoulders eased slightly in relief. At least Maria had come. Someone from the West—someone familiar.
"Yes, you may," Arianna replied.
As Maria stepped inside, Arianna managed a faint, weary smile.
"I’m glad you came to find me."
"I came earlier, but you were still asleep." Maria walked in, followed by a girl who looked about sixteen. She had the distinct features of someone from the north.
Arianna’s brows furrowed in confusion "Who is she?"
"The maid assigned to you by Aunt Freya," Maria answered.
"Aunt Freya? There was no need for her to do that. You’re more than enough for me."
"She insisted, so I kept quiet and brought the girl to you."
"Hmmm..." Arianna still didn’t understand why Aunt Freya was forcing a maid on her. She turned to the teenager. "What’s your name?"
"Eira, Your Highness," the girl said, immediately dropping to her knees.
"No, you don’t have to do all that," Arianna said, startled that the girl would go so far just to pay respect. "Stand up when you’re talking to me, okay?"
"As you wish, my lady." Eira stood up, her head still bowed.
"How long have you worked for Aunt Freya?" Arianna asked. She was hesitant to rely on that woman’s help. What if she sent a spy?
But a second thought immediately countered the suspicion. No way. What could she possibly gain from spying on me?
They had only met yesterday, and the woman had been nothing but warm and welcoming.
"For years, my lady. I was given to her when I was a baby," Eira told her.
Arianna stared at her, caught off guard. Was the girl a slave? Were her parents even alive? Why would anyone give their child away just like that?
The princess was about to ask further questions when she heard a commotion outside.
Fear gripped her as she saw a shadow loom against the fabric of the tent, and before she could even ask what was going on, Ethan barged inside.
Arianna froze. He was the last person she expected to see. Maria quickly looked over at her, silently asking for her next move.
"W-what are you doing here, Prince Ethan?" Arianna managed to ask, her heart racing. Eira was still in the room, and the last thing Arianna wanted was for the new maid to suspect there was any kind of history between her and the prince.
"Are you really asking me that? Stop playing games," Ethan snapped, making it glaringly obvious that he was still furious about last night.
"I am sorry, but will you excuse us?" Arianna quickly cut him off before he could spill her secret. She turned to the servants. "Eira, Maria, can you wait outside for a minute? I will talk to him briefly and send him away."
The girls bowed and hurried out. As soon as the flap closed behind them, Arianna grabbed a cloth from the bed and wrapped it tightly around herself.
Her chest tightened with fury as she spoke. "What the fuck was that? How dare you barge into my room like that?"
"This belongs to my father, don’t forget," Ethan said, completely unbothered by his lack of boundaries. "I do not need your permission."
"If you used to barge in here without knocking, then you need to understand that times have changed, Prince Ethan," she shot back angrily. "I am your father’s wife now, and this tent belongs to me as well. I demand that you announce yourself before coming in!"
"I see how eager you are to call yourself my father’s wife." Ethan strode over to the bed, stepping directly into her space to face her down. "I am giving you one last chance to repent."
Arianna was utterly confused. "Repent from what, exactly?"
"Leave my father... stop this madness and come back to me. We will get married and put all of this behind us."
Arianna couldn’t control her laughter. She slapped a palm over her mouth to muffle the sound. "I am with your father now, and I prefer him. Get used to it."
"You have no idea what you’re saying. My father isn’t who you think he is. If this is a game, stop it."
"This isn’t a game, Ethan. We are playing out reality."
"Reality?" Ethan chuckled, placing both hands on his hips. "You are so naive, Arianna. You haven’t changed a bit, my sweet girl."
"Get out of here, Ethan. Otherwise, I will call the guards," Arianna warned. She was growing entirely exhausted by his arrogance.
He still thought she was the same gullible, docile girl who would fall for his pretty lies.
Ethan clearly didn’t realize that the part of her that used to crave his affection had died and been buried the day she was reborn.
"Call them, Arianna. Let everyone know what we share," Ethan snapped back, taking a step closer. "You have yet to consummate the marriage. Let’s run away from here right now, and I promise we will be married."
"And who told you I didn’t consummate the night?" she challenged, raising her chin.
Ethan laughed, shaking his head. "Any woman my father sleeps with dies the next morning. You are standing here alive, so that says it all."
"W-what?" Arianna’s eyes widened as she bolted upright from the bed, the sheet slipping in her sudden panic.
What the hell was he talking about?
*****
"Have you sent someone to the west?" Kane asked as he walked toward his tent. He had spent the entire night at the border trying to sort out a territory dispute.
"Not yet, my lord. I was told to send Ragnar, but I wanted to know if you would permit the young prince instead," Cassius answered, keeping pace with the king.
"Ragnar will do a good job. Send him," Kane told him.
"As you wish, Your Highness."
Kane was finally on his way to see Arianna. He had slept out after the intense heat she had sparked in him last night.
As much as he had thoroughly enjoyed everything she did to him—the desperate kisses and the sudden, fierce romance—he couldn’t stop himself from questioning her sudden arrival in the north. It felt highly unusual.
It looked entirely planned and calculated, if anyone asked him.
"Your Highness..."
Kane stopped. It was Aunt Freya, flanked by two maids holding a large tray covered in a fine cloth. She curtsied deeply. "I was just heading to your tent."
"For what exactly, Aunt Freya?" Kane asked, his brows furrowing.
"Tradition dictates that the mother of the groom brings gifts to the bride on the morning after the wedding. Unfortunately, we all know your mother is no longer with us, so I decided to fulfill the ritual in her stead."
"I am glad you thought of it," he said, a rare smile touching his lips. "You can follow me. I was just on my way to see the bride myself."
"I am grateful, Your Highness," Aunt Freya said, leading the way.
But when they reached the tent, they found Maria and the new maid standing outside, looking pale.
"What happened?" Kane demanded, his brows knitting in confusion. No one answered him. The guards lowered their gazes, staring at the ground as if a tragedy had just unfolded.
A sudden, paralyzing fear gripped his chest. Was it the usual bad news? Did the princess die? Panic flared—he hadn’t even consummated the marriage last night, so how could the curse have taken her?
"Your Highness..." Maria started, her voice trembling, but the king ignored her entirely.
He threw back the tent flap and stormed into the room, bracing himself for the absolute worst, only to confront the last thing he ever expected to see.
