Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 450: What Am I?

Chapter 450: What Am I?

Islinda’s thoughts were jumbled, and the voice calling out to her sounded distant and muffled. She could only make out what he was saying by squinting up at him and watching his lips move. She tried to respond, to reassure him that she was fine and just needed to gather her thoughts, but no words came out. Instead, her mouth opened and closed helplessly, panic gnawing at her chest.

"By the gods, you should sit," Andre said, greatly concerned when he saw her disoriented state. He realized he shouldn’t have pushed her too far. In all honesty, he didn’t understand why he had done it. He just felt an overwhelming anger at her toying with his brother’s emotions, especially considering their rivalry. He knew it wouldn’t end well.

"Here, sit," Andre guided her back to the seat, noticing that she was shaking uncontrollably. It was clear she was in shock.

"Okay, take deep breaths. Listen to the sound of my voice and follow my instructions. One...two...yes, just like that."

Islinda’s heart pounded against her chest, each beat loud and thunderous, shaken by the fear of her discovery. But Andre’s voice was soothing, and she obediently followed his instructions, taking deep, calming breaths until the overwhelming panic began to fade.

"That’s it, you’re doing great," Andre reassured her. He knelt before her, patiently patting her back.

When Islinda looked at him, she saw intense sympathy in his eyes, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. It was all too much. In just one night, she had been attacked, died, seemingly been resurrected, confronted about her feelings by Andre, and now she couldn’t even remember her own mother. It felt like a blank slate, an emptiness in her mind.

She couldn’t bear it any longer. There was no break. It was overwhelming. While her life hadn’t been perfect as a human, at least she knew what to expect and tried to make the best of it. But here, she was expected to keep up with beings who were physically stronger and had centuries of experience.

And then there was her disastrous love life, assuming she even had one. Islinda thought she knew what she wanted, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Why was everything so difficult? Why couldn’t there be a single good thing in her life? She regretted the day she met Valerie, as it was that encounter that led her to getting involved with Aldric and this cursed fate.

Islinda sobbed uncontrollably, the anguish and pain threatening to break her. At first, Andre was frozen, caught off guard by her outburst. But his heart softened, and he understood her struggle. He quickly gathered her into his arms, comforting her by rubbing her back.

"Don’t worry, let it all out," Andre said soothingly.

As if those words held magic, Islinda let out a strangled cry and wrapped her arms around Andre, pulling him as close as possible, seeking solace. Her cries were muffled as she buried her face in his chest.

"What’s wrong with me?" Islinda wept, her teeth clenched and sobs wracking her body.

"There’s nothing wrong with you. We’ll figure this out together," Andre reassured her.

Islinda cried until her eyes were red and she was certain they would be swollen the next morning. She felt immense embarrassment for her breakdown and couldn’t bring herself to meet Andre’s gaze. She feared he would see her as weak and overly emotional.

Thankfully, Andre was a kinder person than she had imagined, and he didn’t bring up her emotional outburst. Instead, they focused on the important conversation at hand.

"What about your mother? Do you remember anything?" he asked with seriousness.

"No," Islinda admitted, looking away in shame. How could she forget her own mother? What kind of daughter does that?

She looked up, catching Andre scrutinizing her intensely, studying her like a puzzle that needed solving. Shame washed over her once again.

"Tell me more about it. Could it be that you can’t remember, or is something blocking your memories?" Andre inquired.

Islinda nervously licked her lips, trying to gather her thoughts. Then her gaze locked with Andre’s, and she spoke with determination, "It feels like I’ve been living in a delusion all this time, and now the truth has finally been revealed. It’s as if someone implanted the idea of having a mother in my head, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t conjure up a face."

"What about in the human realm, at home? Were there no portraits of her?" Andre asked.

"Yes," Islinda started to say, but suddenly stopped short. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," she cursed, jumping to her feet. She couldn’t bear to sit still any longer as the memories came crashing back.

"By the gods!" Islinda gasped, recalling the truth in vivid detail. "It was just me and my papa. No one else. I never really thought about it or questioned why there were no portraits of her. I just grew up believing she had ceased to be a part of our lives after she died."

Islinda was sweating now, rubbing her palm across her face in frustration.

"How could I have been so foolish?"

"You’re not foolish," Andre reassured her.

Islinda was exhausted at this point, and the weariness in her eyes was evident. She rasped, "Do you think my mother was non-human?"

"With everything you’ve told me, that seems highly likely," Andre admitted.

Taking a shaky breath, Islinda whispered, "So I’m not human?" She needed confirmation, any kind of guidance. She didn’t know how to react in this moment of discovery.

"With what happened tonight, I would say yes. You literally died, Islinda. I heard your heart stop, and then here you are, healthy. You were literally Humans don’t die and come back to life."

Islinda uttered, "If that’s the case, then why now? Why didn’t I know until now? And, most importantly, what am I?"

"Well, I have a few theories about that," Andre said, his face reflecting deep thought.