Saved By The Mad Duke
Chapter 182: Chess Piece

Chapter 182: Chess Piece

Prince Valon leaned against one of the columns in the corner of the bustling banquet hall, holding a glass of red wine in his skinny hand. His bright green eyes were fixed on the joyous people scattered all over the floor, chattering the night away as they mingled with one another.

A familiar figure emerged from the crowd, attracting his attention to her tall silhouette. The belated appearance of Lady Felicity Tarran made him knit his brows. Taking a sip from his glass, he kept drilling her with his intense glare until she finally stood before him, her face marred with a shade of slight fright.

"You refuse to enjoy yourself, as usual, Your Highness. I must confess, I am slightly offended."

Valon didn’t rush to retort. He measured the lady with a silent stare for quite a while until he finally parted his thin lips and asked rather coldly,

"So? Was it successful?"

Felicity nodded.

"Yes, I think she believed my little comments about noble ladies having affairs with the students under the pretense of sponsorship. Her outright reaction betrayed her genuine confusion."

The prince twirled the glass between his fingers, watching as the red wine danced inside its tall walls.

"Good. Will that artist play along too?"

"He has no choice; his family’s well-being is in my hands now."

Valon redirected his sparkling green gaze back to Lady Tarran, his face still serious and cold as he continued,

"Keep an eye on her. Start spreading rumors once the guy begins to make his moves. We are running out of time as is."

The young woman let out a brief sigh and bowed her head.

"Yes, Your Highness."

She was about to finally leave his side when the prince called her again.

"Wait."

Turning around rather demonstratively, she faked yet another smile and asked,

"Anything else, Your Highness?"

"Find a way to follow her lady-in-waiting outside the palace too if she goes anywhere alone and check everyone whom she contacts during these times. My hands are tied in this matter, for now, you know it."

Felicity felt a new wave of irritation spreading all over her body. Yet, she had no choice but to fake another semi-friendly smile and nod submissively.

"As you wish, Your Highness."

Without saying a word, Prince Valon gestured for her to leave, and she gladly did so.

As the lady walked past the northern terrace with its thick velvet curtains drawn tightly, securing whatever was happening there at that moment, she paused and said quietly,

"It is most unfortunate to be a chess piece about to be removed from the board. I find it quite disheartening that the Crown Prince was caught in this terrifying intrigue as well. It is true what they say: downpours are the tears of those sitting above us all."

Slowly moving her eyes to look ahead, Felicity flinched because she noticed Prince Yanad walking in her direction.

’Speak of the devil! I need to make sure he doesn’t hover here while the princess is with that boy.’

With another fake smile gracing her red lips, she waved her fan at the Crown Prince and started marching towards him, preventing him from approaching the terrace.

"Your Royal Highness! You finally grace us with your presence! How wonderful! Would you care for a glass of wine?"

***

Melania shifted nervously on the plush seat of the chair; the refreshing spring wind that howled through the terrace played with her brown curls as they gently fell on her shoulders. Lady Tarran’s words still bothered her immensely, and the fact that she was about to meet a young man who, had it not been for her purchasing his painting, would have been involved with someone who only saw him as a means of satisfying their perverse needs.

She was disgusted and anxious at the same time.

’Lady Felicity’s words touched a nerve back there... I will feign ignorance and only talk about his art, nothing else. If I see that he is indeed passionate about his work, I will find a way to support him that will stand out and set an example of pure patronage.’

The moment she finished that thought, the heavy velvet curtains parted, and the princess saw the gorgeous young artist once again. With his dark eyes fixed on her at all times, he moved with a certain sense of heaviness in every step, though his body was poised and confident.

Standing before Melania, he bowed his head and introduced himself,

"Good evening, Your Royal Highness. My name is Hayim, I am a graduating student of the Tarran Academy. Allow me to extend my gratitude for choosing my painting as your bid. You have no idea what it means to me."

With another bow, he gently took the princess’ hand and pecked it lightly, his full lips barely touching the fabric of her gloves. Flustered for a moment, the young woman shook her head and gestured for Hayim to take a seat on the opposite chair.

"The pleasure is all mine; I truly loved the painting, your talent leaves an unforgettable impression."

"Thank you, Your Highness, you are very kind."

The artist’s voice was low yet pleasant, and every time he spoke, Melania couldn’t help but feel amazed at how kind he sounded despite the rather intimidating look that never left his eyes.

"How old are you?" she asked finally. The young man answered without hesitation, "Eighteen, Your Highness."

’So one year older than I thought... And one year younger than King Yuraon.’

The princess’ absent-minded gaze, fixed firmly on Hayim’s face, made the artist slightly confused, especially since the silence that was evoked by his words seemed to have stretched indefinitely. Mustering the courage, he decided to speak first.

"Uhm... Your Highness? Would you like to ask me anything? About my art or..."

"Hayim..." Melania hesitated, "are you from Lafad as well?"

Although caught off-guard by her question, the young man still managed to respond right away.

"Yes, Your Highness. My family comes from a long line of merchants; they used to transport spice from Lafad to Geraldion by ship. During their last trip, my family’s ship was caught in the storm and ruined, they barely made it alive to the shore. They lost everything they had, though, and were left here alone to survive with the limited skills they had. Lord Tarran helped my family with a loan so now we cannot leave until the debt is paid. Apart from studying art at the Tarran Academy, I work evening hours as a gardener. My father is sick, so it is not easy; most of my earnings are going back to Lord Tarran regardless..."

"I see..."

Hayim’s short story about his family made the princess unfathomably sad.

’So it means even the money I paid for the painting will go straight to the Tarran pocket, how ridiculous.’

Melania averted her eyes for a moment, mulling over what the artist said to her, then fixed them back on his handsome face, and asked somewhat firmly,

"Hayim, do you truly love art?"

The young man nodded,

"Yes, Your Highness, with all my heart."

The princess offered him a warm smile, placed her hand on top of his, and declared,

"In that case, I will help you. I will be your sponsor, Hayim."