Jordan immediately folded his arms and puffed his cheeks like a child.
Chyna blinked at him.
"Leon, you can go," she said quickly, sensing the tension. "I'll explain everything later."
Leon hesitated, then bowed respectfully.
"As you wish, Princess."
He left them alone.
The moment he was gone, Chyna turned back to Jordan.
"What is wrong with you now?"
Jordan didn't even look at her properly.
"You just broke my heart," he said flatly.
Chyna paused.
"…Excuse me?"
"You denied your love for me."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"That's not what I meant," she said quickly. "I just didn't want you telling Leon everything."
Jordan finally looked at her.
"And why can't Leon know?"
Chyna hesitated.
"It's… personal."
Jordan leaned closer slightly.
"Then tell me."
"I can't," she answered firmly. "It's personal."
Silence.
Jordan stared at her for a long moment, then quietly picked up his fork and began eating.
Chyna sighed.
She tried speaking again, but he ignored her completely.
So she let him be.
He'll calm down soon, she thought.
But he didn't.
After lunch, Jordan stood up without a word and walked out of the dining area.
"Jordan!" she called after him.
No response.
He kept walking.
Chyna huffed slightly, then stood up to follow him—but a maid quickly stepped in her way.
"Your Highness," the maid said politely, "the prince has sent for the ball gowns and jewelry. They've just arrived. We need you to choose your outfit for the royal banquet."
Chyna paused.
"Now?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
She glanced toward the direction Jordan had gone.
Then sighed.
"Send them to my room," she said, already walking off. "I'll check them there."
A second later she added:
"Actually… send them to the prince's room."
The maid blinked but bowed immediately.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Meanwhile, back in Grandcrest, the King and Queen sat in tense silence after receiving an invitation from Jordan's kingdom.
The letter was clear:
The Crown Prince of Dacria requested the presence of the royal family—including Princess Chyna—for his upcoming birthday celebration.
The Queen clenched her hands.
"We haven't seen her in a week…" she said worriedly. "She's still with him."
The King sighed.
"Maybe we should ask him to return her for the event," she suggested.
The King frowned.
"And if he refuses? Dacria is still the safest place for her."
The Queen thought for a moment.
"Then we allow him to bring guards with her," she said carefully. "He can even visit whenever he wants. But she must attend."
The King nodded slowly.
"That… might work."
He called for a servant.
"Bring Andrew."
Moments later, Andrew entered and bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Send a message to the Crown Prince of Dacria," the King ordered. "Thank him for protecting our daughter. But inform him we require her presence for his birthday banquet. He may send escorts with her."
Andrew bowed.
"As you command."
He left immediately.
The Queen exhaled softly.
"Let's hope he agrees."
Far away, in the shadows of Camelot's abandoned hall, Alena leaned forward with a grin.
"So… the royal ball is happening soon?"
Kiera nodded.
"Yes. All eligible women are invited."
Alena frowned.
"And I didn't get an invitation."
"Same here," Kiera said coldly.
Stephan leaned back.
"Then we act before the ball," he said.
Dylan narrowed his eyes.
"They already know about us after Cole failed. We can't risk direct contact."
Stephan nodded.
"We use someone they don't suspect."
Kiera's lips curved into a slow smile.
"I already have someone in mind."
Alena tilted her head.
"Who?"
Kiera leaned in slightly.
"Someone who is deeply in love with the prince… and desperate enough to do anything to have him."
A pause.
Then realization hit.
"You mean—" Alena began.
"The Northern Lights princess," Kiera finished.
Daya.
A dark grin spread across Dylan's face.
"Perfect."
Alena chuckled.
"She's going to break beautifully."
Kiera stood.
"Then let's pay our little psycho a visit."
All of them smiled.
And for the first time in a while—
Their plan felt certain.