The Devil's Good Girl-Chapter 255: Who?

[FLASHBACK]

Latrice had always been pale when she first met the crown prince and the duke. She only started having colors when she stayed in the South. She glowed like no other, like a rising star, so beautiful and radiating.

Everything around her always brightened up, no matter what season or time of day. Even in the middle of the night, she brought comfort like a moon in the sky.

It was always hard to look away from her, as her beauty was so enthralling one wouldn’t mind sacrificing a life for her.

But now...

Sitting opposite the woman Jackson longed to see for a long time, he couldn’t help but notice the dimness of her presence. Her eyes that used to shimmer with hope were now devoid of any emotion. She was staring at him, but it was almost like her mind was drifting elsewhere.

Jackson had always been aware of how tough it was to live within the palace walls. But it was only a year since she was crowned the crown princess. She would also write him often, but recently, her letters had been scarce. However, she often reassured him she was fine.

She didn’t look fine to him now.

"Your Highness," he called, pausing as the servants served them tea. Only when the servant stepped back but remained in the room did he speak again. "How have you been faring?"

Latrice didn’t answer, eyes still on him. When she heard his voice, the life in her eyes returned.

Her lips curled up subtly as if she only realized he was there with her. "I am well."

Jackson was doubtful.

Although now that she was smiling again, he still couldn’t get rid of the doubt in his heart. Was she not saying anything because of the maid present?

Jackson glanced at the servant and said, "I would like to speak to Her Highness privately."

"Yes, Your Grace." The servant didn’t reason out, bowing, and was about to leave when Latrice spoke.

"She will stay."

Jackson looked back at her and frowned. "Your Highness." — it was clear Latrice wasn’t saying anything because of this maid.

"Speak however you like, Your Grace." Latrice offered him a gentle smile. "This servant will remain here. Otherwise, my husband will be worried."

The crown prince?

Jackson was briefly bewildered at the remarks she had dropped. Why would Quentin feel worried if they were just talking?

Could it be...?

Jackson clasped his hands into fists, keeping them on his lap. "Your Highness, it seemed there was a misunderstanding about our relationship."

"There isn’t." Latrice’s voice was soft, but it also carried a sense of certainty. "You are my cousin, and I am now the crown prince. You raised me well, cherished me, and treated me as your own family. What misunderstanding could others get out of that?"

"That is true," he agreed, even though he knew what they had was more than that. "Even though I did all of that, you are now the crown princess. How dare I send your little servant away just so we could talk?"

Latrice’s smile broadened a bit, understanding his insinuation.

She had been in the palace for a year and she quickly grasped the nobles’ roundabout way of speaking. She didn’t care much about it, but it somehow made her proud knowing Jackson could do it as well. All this time, she thought he was like a straight arrow.

"The tea is getting cold," she pointed out. "I planted the flowers myself. From what I read, it was good for body aches."

Jackson smiled, putting his worry aside. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Latrice just nodded and watched him pick up his teacup.

The servant’s presence stopped Jackson from inquiring about other things. However, that didn’t stop him from showing his genuine concern.

"Your Highness."

Suddenly, another servant came into the drawing room and whispered to Latrice’s ears. Latrice nodded and smiled at Jackson.

"I appreciate that you visited me the moment you arrived in the capital, Your Grace. However, I have to excuse myself first." Latrice pushed herself up as she excused herself.

When she was standing, she didn’t curtsy anymore to show him their standing. Jackson also rose from his seat as a sign of respect for the crown princess. But as he hung his head low, he caught her frail little fingers taking her glove from the table. As she did so, her sleeve that was covering her arms down to her wrist moved up a little.

Jackson furrowed his brows, and before he could even think of anything, he reached for her wrist.

"Your Grace?" Latrice called, only to flinch when he suddenly pulled up her sleeve.

His pupils constricted as his irises dilated, staring at her bruised arm in shock.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice sounding like a roar. "Your High — who did this to you, Latrice?"

Latrice tried to pull her arm from him, but he tightened his grip.

"Who?" he repeated in a low gnarl. "Was it... him?"

"No." Despite the stuffy aura exuding from him, Latrice maintained her grace. "It is not him, Your Grace."

"Then, who!?"

"It is none of your concern." For the first time, Latrice’s tone became sharp as her eyes shone with warning signs. Taking advantage of his surprise, she pulled her arm from him and said, "Your Grace, you are my family, so I will let this slide. However, if you do this again, I might consider it as disrespect for the crown princess."

Latrice brushed off her skirt and took a step back. "Please. I know you mean well, but do not meddle with my affairs."

Having said that, Latrice turned her back on him and left without giving him a second look.

When Latrice reached her destination, she saw Quentin waiting for her outside her chambers.

Quentin straightened his back and faced her, assessing her from head to toe. "You’re back early, my Latrice."

"My servant told me you were here, Your Highness. I was a little exhilarated, so I thought I should meet you." She smiled subtly, only to walk past him. When she was in front of the door, she paused and added, "Quentin, I am hopeful you will keep your side of the bargain. Because if you don’t..."

She slowly slid her eyes to him. "... you will regret ever meeting me in your life."