The Vampire Prince's Blindfolded Bride
Chapter 230: Not giving Izaak a chance

Chapter 230: Not giving Izaak a chance

Upon their return from the bathhouse, Alora tenderly attended to Magnus, gently drying his hair with a towel. Magnus was comfortably ensconced in a chair, positioned before the ornate dresser, his gaze unwaveringly locked onto Alora’s glowing visage.

Her hair, still damp from the bath, had soaked the fabric of her attire around her neck, creating a darker patch that contrasted with the rest of her clothing. A few stray droplets of water had escaped, tracing a shimmering path down her collarbone, catching the light and sparkling like tiny diamonds.

After she had finished, Alora turned to Magnus, her eyes questioning, "Should I comb your hair, or would you prefer to do it?"

Magnus, watching her neatly place the used towel in the laundry basket, responded with a gentle affirmation, "I’ll take care of it." He gestured towards the chair, indicating that he would be the one to dry her hair this time.

"Really?" Alora’s eyes widened in surprise, her gaze filled with bewilderment.

He simply nodded in response.

With a soft smile, she fetched another towel and handed it to him before gracefully settling herself on the chair.

Magnus, taking the towel from her, began to speak, his voice filled with admiration. "Your hair, it’s beautiful... so long and elegant. It suits you." He paused, his gaze softening as he added, "But then again, you are beautiful in every way." With these words, he tenderly began to move the towel over her hair, drying each strand with care. His actions were filled with a quiet reverence, showing the depth of his feelings for her.

"Tomorrow, I must depart for the South. You’ll have to manage here without me for a few days," Magnus informed her, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of regret.

"This early?" Alora’s reflection in the mirror met his gaze, her eyes wide with surprise.

"The sooner, the better," Magnus replied, his tone resolute.

"Alright. But promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way and don’t trust anyone blindly," Alora advised, her concern for him evident in her words.

"I’ll remember your advice," he assured her, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I’m going to miss you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "As for your training, I’ll ask Izaak to assist you. I’ve made all the necessary arrangements. Griffin will also be there, so you needn’t worry too much," he added, trying to reassure her.

"Hmm." Alora nodded, her determination to excel in her training shining brightly in her eyes. She was resolved to make the most of this opportunity and bring about a positive outcome.

~~~~~

As Melody was overseeing the dinner preparations for Alora in the royal kitchen, she crossed paths with Zerah. She offered him a polite greeting, her gaze briefly falling on the tray in front of her.

Zerah, his eyes meeting hers, voiced his concern, "Prince Izaak seems disturbed after his conversation with you. What could you have possibly discussed with him?"

Caught off guard by his question, Melody could only shake her head in denial. "I assure you, I said nothing out of the ordinary to the prince," she responded, her voice steady despite the surprise.

"Are you sure, Melody?" Zerah probed, his gaze intense as if attempting to peer into the depths of her soul.

Melody felt a lump forming in her throat as she remembered her conversation with Izaak. She had indeed told him that she feared she might die if she stayed around him. It was a statement made out of fear, and she regretted her candidness now.

Zerah’s voice broke through her thoughts, his tone laced with a hint of mockery, "I overheard from a servant that you expressed to Prince Izaak that his presence could be lethal to you. How peculiar of you!" His words hung in the air, a taunt aimed to unsettle her.

"His Highness saved you from that slave house and gave you such a shelter, which you couldn’t even get in the dreams. I regret not persuading Prince Izaak against bringing you here. His acts of kindness are few and far between," Zerah voiced his thoughts, shaking his head in disapproval before departing.

Melody was left alone, a wave of guilt washing over her. She regretted her harsh words to Izaak. She yearned to apologize, to make amends, but she questioned whether he would even tolerate her presence now.

"Perhaps it’s best to remain out of His Highness’s sight for a while," Melody whispered to herself.

With a tray in her hands, she made her way to the chamber, meticulously setting the dinner table for Alora.

"Your spirits seem low. Is everything alright?" Selvina asked, her voice laced with concern as she positioned the bowl of warm chicken soup at the center of the table.

"Everything’s perfect," Melody responded, her words contradicting the sadness in her eyes, which she tried to mask with a forced smile.

"Tomorrow is the royal wedding. I’m sure that will brighten your mood. It’s almost as if you fled from Prince Izaak’s manor with a purpose," Selvina mused, her eyes meeting Melody’s. She was bewildered with the way Selvina caught her inner turmoil.

"You’re only human. Your heart was racing and a single bead of sweat trickled down your temple when I posed a simple question. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you should confide in me. I might be able to assist," Selvina suggested, her tone was gentle and sincere.

Melody, feeling a sense of trust towards Selvina, decided to voice her concerns.

"Umm... I’ve heard rumors that Prince Izaak had four wives and he’s responsible for their deaths. Is he really that heartless?" Melody asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Selvina paused, placing the water jar she was holding onto the table. "I’ve heard the same rumors. But Princess Alora always speaks highly of Prince Izaak. She insists that he’s a kind-hearted man who was unfortunately betrayed in love by his wives, not once but four times. She believes that’s why His Highness had to resort to such drastic measures," Selvina replied, her tone neutral.

Melody was filled with regret for not giving Izaak a chance to explain himself and misjudge him.