When Isla's heavily exhausted, deeply weary eyes slowly fluttered open, she found herself lying perfectly safe upon the soft, luxurious silk sheets of her own grand bedchamber, where her mother was sitting right beside her pillow, tenderly stroking her tangled hair with trembling hands.
'Ahh... where... where exactly am I?' she asked in a weak, pained whisper, her disoriented mind still violently wandering through the terrifying shadows of that deadly jungle.
'Isla, my sweet child, please do not panic at all; you are entirely safe now, back in your own room within the palace,' her mother assured her, tears of sheer relief glistening in her eyes upon seeing her precious daughter alive and well.
Isla was still desperately trying to gather her scattered senses when the heavy oak doors suddenly swung open and Prince Lucier confidently stepped into the chamber.
The sheer sight of him made her blood instantly boil—his hands were heavily wrapped in stark white bandages, and a freshly staged, dramatic cut gleamed prominently on his face, making him look exactly like a valiant warrior returning from a brutal, heroic battle.
Just then, the King also entered the room, a strange, overwhelming expression of absolute pride and radiant joy completely illuminating his stern face.
'Isla, I know perfectly well that you were deeply upset with us for arranging your marriage to Lucier, but today, I am incredibly proud of that exact decision,' he declared with immense satisfaction.
'What... what exactly do you mean, Dad?'
Isla asked, her voice laced with deep confusion and a sudden, sickening dread.
'I simply mean, my precious daughter, that if Lucier had not been there today, you might not be sitting here alive with us right now,' the King explained warmly, placing a grateful, heavy hand on Lucier's shoulder.
'He recklessly risked his own life to save you from that bloodthirsty beast, definitively proving that he will go to any lengths to fiercely protect you in the future, and proving that our decision was absolutely correct!'
Isla's mind violently spun at the outrageous, incredibly audacious claim.
"No... no, no, no, this is an absolute, despicable lie!" she screamed internally, her chest burning with a fierce, suffocating rage.
"He was absolutely not the one who saved my life! The eyes of that masked man... they were so incredibly calm and deeply familiar, whereas this pathetic Lucier is nothing but a selfish, cowardly bastard who left me to die and ran away!"
She desperately wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and expose the entire truth to the room, but she quickly noticed how deeply and completely her parents had been manipulated by the prince's flawless performance.
"If I say anything right now, absolutely no one will believe a single word I say; they will just assume I am lying to maliciously break off the engagement, so it is definitely best to remain entirely silent for now,"she concluded, forcefully swallowing her burning, righteous anger.
'But Dad...' Isla tried to protest weakly, but the King immediately cut her off with a strict hand gesture.
'No "buts", Isla; just rest right now, and first and foremost, give Prince Lucier the heartfelt thanks he truly deserves.'
"Thanks? Even my absolute worn-out shoes would not dare to thank this pathetic coward!"she mocked furiously in her mind.
'Isla, what on earth are you thinking about? Speak up,' the King pressed again, demanding her compliance.
Isla took a deep, incredibly steadying breath and, dripping with a cold, piercing attitude, flatly muttered, 'Thank you.'
'There is absolutely no need for thanks, Princess,' Lucier replied with an incredibly sweet, sickeningly fake smile, a dark, wickedly manipulative gleam shining in his deceitful eyes.
'After all, I am your future husband, and fiercely protecting you is my very first and most important duty.'
As the agonizingly slow hours of the afternoon painfully dragged on, Isla desperately waited for the protective cover of night to finally fall so she could reveal the entire infuriating truth to Dorian.
Feigning profound exhaustion from her traumatic ordeal in the forest, she cleverly convinced her parents and the lingering royal court to leave her chamber so she could supposedly rest in absolute peace.
Shortly after a quiet servant slipped in to deliver her evening dinner along with a few foul-tasting healing medicines sent directly by the Queen, the familiar shadows in the darkest corner of her room fluidly shifted, and Dorian finally materialized.
'Isla...' he breathed out, immediately crossing the vast room in a few long, urgent strides.
'Dorian!' she gasped, instantly rushing forward to meet him.
'Are you completely alright?' he asked, his strong, warm hands gently yet firmly gripping her slender waist as his dark eyes scanned her pale face with intense, raw concern.
'No, Dorian... I mean, yes, I am physically entirely fine, but you will absolutely not believe what actually happened out there today!' she stammered, her words tumbling out in an anxious, furiously animated rush.
Without pausing to take a single breath, she meticulously detailed the horrifying encounter with the wild beast, the magnificent blinding light of the mysterious masked savior, and finally, the utterly despicable, incredibly cowardly way Lucier had shamelessly stolen all the credit just to parade around as a valiant hero in front of her gullible family.
Instead of matching her burning outrage, Dorian simply let out a low, deeply amused chuckle, his large thumbs drawing slow, intoxicatingly soothing circles against the sensitive skin of her waist to effortlessly calm her violently racing heart.
'He has been exactly like that since we were mere children, my sweet Isla; he is a pathetic, incredibly fragile coward who constantly hides behind other people's achievements, so you really should not waste your precious energy worrying about him at all,' he murmured smoothly, his intense, heavy gaze suddenly darkening with a familiar, terrifyingly raw wave of absolute desire.
'Besides, let us entirely forget about that foolish prince... did I not explicitly tell you this morning to be entirely ready for me tonight?'
Before Isla could even begin to process his wickedly seductive shift in tone, Dorian's large, warm hands slowly and deliberately moved upward, his deft fingers beginning to expertly loosen the delicate silk laces of her royal dress, sending a violent, highly addictive shiver of anticipation straight down her spine.