Flower in the Trap - Chapter 9

Early the next morning, the birds chirped cheerfully on the branches outside the window. Their lively sounds stood in sharp contrast to the silence and tranquility within the room. The cool bedroom air still carried the lingering scent of last night.

Linaelina’s eyelashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes, dazed and half-awake. In the haze of early consciousness, she felt a warm and steady gaze on her.

Her vision focused, and she found Kaellian looking at her, his deep eyes locked onto her face.

He lay beside Linaelina, his chin propped up, gazing at her for who knows how long.

Startled, Linaelina instinctively turned away, a blush creeping up from her neck to the tips of her ears. “Good morning, good morning,” she murmured, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Kaellian’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good morning, Princess,” he replied softly.

Linaelina turned to get up, lifting the blanket and placing her bare feet on the cold floor. The sudden chill cleared the last traces of drowsiness from her mind. She pulled on a robe and called for her maid to prepare breakfast.

Kaellian rose from the bed and slowly got dressed, casting a sidelong glance at the slightly flustered figure.

When breakfast arrived, his portion was generous. There was warm soup, slices of bread, a poached egg, and a few neatly arranged pieces of ham, fried until their edges curled slightly.

Linaelina’s breakfast, in comparison, was much simpler. The same soup and half a loaf of bread, but what caught Kaellian’s attention was the lack of refinement in her utensils. There was not even a proper soup cup or silverware.

It did not match her title as a princess.

Kaellian’s eyes narrowed slightly

It was not that the kingdom of Sovaine lacked resources. But ever since the early death of her mother, Linaelina had only held onto the title of princess in name. In truth, she had long been neglected and quietly pushed to the margins of the palace.

She was not mistreated, but she was not cared for either.

Kaellian studied her as she ate her bread in small, careful bites, chewing slowly.

Quiet, beautiful, a little naïve. Despite her uncertain position, she remained the princess of Sovaine. In his mind, Kaellian quickly and coldly assessed her situation.

She was like a blank sheet of paper, untouched and waiting to be rewritten. A young and vulnerable princess, left out in the cold. And if shown just a little warmth, she might be willing to offer everything in return.

His gaze lowered, and a faint, almost chilling curve traced his lips.

He lifted his spoon and took a sip of the clear soup. His brow creased slightly. The soup was bland, the texture rough, like a meal prepared without care. It felt less like a royal breakfast and more like a quiet form of humiliation, served under the guise of formality.

For a princess, it was a mockery.

It had been foolish of her to give herself to a stranger. But beneath that foolishness lay desperation, a calculated risk born from the absence of options.

Kaellian’s gaze shifted to Linaelina. She sat with her head slightly lowered, sipping her soup in silence.

Then she spoke, her voice so soft it barely reached him. “As you can see…I am a princess in name only.”

She still did not look up. Her tone was muffled and distant, as though wrapped in fog. “I apologize for involving you in my affairs…and I… I have nothing to offer in return.”

Kaellian froze. Her words echoed those she had said the day before, when she had tried to draw a line between them. For no clear reason, it stirred a faint irritation in him.

He drew in a quiet breath, forcing himself to calm down, deliberately pushing aside emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge. If she remained too aware, she would never willingly submit. But if she saw herself as someone insignificant, how could she ever find the courage to step into the game?

He lowered his head and resumed sipping the soup, the clinking of spoons revealing the faintest hint of turmoil in his heart.

If Linaelina was to become truly useful, her development had to begin now. She was still young, untouched by the world’s strategies, which meant there was room to mold her.

He would shape her into someone capable of navigating the game of power. He would teach her how to observe, how to speak, how to strike when needed. He would hone her instincts and sharpen her courage. With time, she could become both his sharpest blade and his most dependable shield.

But before that, he needed to earn her trust. Make her depend on him. Let her grow used to seeking him out when lost, leaning a little more toward him, bit by bit.

He thought of all this with careful calculation, unaware that his eyes had not left her for a long while.