A Quest To Woo the Prince

The journey back to court felt different.

Eleanor's steps were heavy as she walked beside Adrian, both of them having crossed through the mystical forest and survived the trials that had, against all odds, tested their endurance and trust. The storm was gone, but the weight of what they'd endured lingered in the air between them. Every glance felt loaded, like something unspoken hung between them—a tension that neither of them could easily shake.

As they approached the gates of the royal estate, Eleanor's stomach churned with a mixture of exhaustion and apprehension. The grandeur of the palace that once felt like a dream now felt like an oppressive reminder of what awaited them inside. The nobles, the whispers, the expectations—all of it loomed in the distance, like an approaching storm of its own.

Adrian didn't seem to notice the looming weight of court life. He strode ahead, his posture stiff, his mind clearly elsewhere. But his presence was unmistakable, a force that seemed to draw the attention of everyone around him. As they crossed the threshold of the palace, a murmur rose from the surrounding servants and courtiers.

Eleanor instinctively slowed her pace, suddenly feeling smaller, less certain of herself. Their disappearance—the one that had lasted for days, almost a week—had undoubtedly raised questions. Adrian had been gone, and she had been with him, out of sight of the court's watchful eyes. And now, as the grand doors of the royal palace closed behind them, the air was thick with curiosity, with suspicion.

"Did you hear?" a voice whispered behind her. Eleanor stiffened, recognizing the tone of intrigue. It was a courtier who had been part of the gossip circles the moment they arrived. "The prince and the duke's daughter, missing for days, and now they return together." The implication hung in the air, a vague, but telling accusation.

Eleanor kept her eyes forward, trying to ignore the prickle of heat on her cheeks. She didn't need to look behind her to know they were talking about her. Every eye at court was on her now, as if she were the center of the latest scandal.

"It's more than that, isn't it?" Another voice floated toward her, its tone sly and knowing. "What do you suppose happened in the forest? Surely, they weren't alone out there all that time."

A feeling of dread began to settle in her chest. It wasn't just the questions—they were dangerous. There were rumors, and in a court like this, rumors could be deadly. They could destroy reputations, relationships, and lives.

Adrian finally turned to face her, his usual confidence faltering for a brief moment as he caught her gaze. His lips were pressed into a hard line, and the muscles in his jaw were clenched, betraying his own discomfort at the attention they were receiving.

"You shouldn't have come back with me," he said quietly, his words cutting through the air. "You didn't need to, not after everything. You could have just stayed in the forest, or…" He stopped himself, his words trailing off into an unspoken regret.

Eleanor opened her mouth to respond but couldn't find the right words. She had wanted to go back, to return to court with him. Not because she had to, but because she knew the way things were—the system's rules, her mission—she had no choice. If she wanted to succeed, she had to stay in the game. And to do that, she had to stay close to Adrian.

"I'm not going anywhere," she finally said, her voice steady, but she knew the weight of her words. The eyes of the court were on her now, waiting for the slightest slip-up, the smallest mistake.

Adrian didn't reply. Instead, he turned and walked ahead, his back straight and rigid. He was shutting her out, as he always did, and yet she couldn't help but feel that they were in the same boat now—facing the same storm, whether he liked it or not.

The next few days were a blur of uncomfortable interactions, hushed conversations, and long, tense silences. The court had quickly picked up on the rumors of their disappearance, and every passing moment felt like another new whisper, another new round of gossip.

Eleanor did her best to stay out of the way, retreating into the corners of the palace, avoiding eye contact with the nobles, and hiding from the scrutiny of the royal family. But there was nowhere to hide. The prince, once the distant figure at the center of everything, had become the focal point of gossip, and by extension, so had she.

One evening, as she walked through the halls of the palace, her mind still reeling from her own thoughts and the constant barrage of whispers, she passed a group of noblewomen who didn't bother to hide their conversation.

"Have you heard the latest?" one of them asked, her voice pitched low but unmistakable. "The duke's daughter, Eleanor—gone for days with the prince. And now? They return like nothing happened. Together. So tell me, how does that look to you?"

Eleanor's cheeks burned as she tried to make herself as small as possible, walking faster, not daring to glance over. But the words clung to her, like the scent of perfume that lingered in the air long after the source had passed.

"He doesn't even like her, does he?" one of the other women chimed in. "Or is it just the duke's influence? She's clearly been trying too hard with him—running after him, trying to get his attention. It's embarrassing."

"Do you think the prince actually cares about her? Or is it just a game?" the first woman asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"I'm sure it's nothing more than a bit of fun for him. I heard rumors that he only brought her back because he didn't want the scandal of her vanishing with him."

Eleanor's breath caught in her throat. They were talking about her, all of them. Every word, every glance felt like a dagger aimed at her.

As the voices of the women faded behind her, Eleanor couldn't help but feel the weight of the palace's eyes on her. She was trapped. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Later that evening, she found herself standing outside the royal chamber, staring up at the door as though it might offer her some sense of relief. She had spent so much time working toward her goal, toward earning Adrian's respect, but none of it seemed to matter now. The court was relentless, unforgiving. She wasn't just a duke's daughter. She wasn't just an outsider trying to fit in. No. Now, she was a scandal, a subject of gossip, a piece of gossip for the court to devour.

And Adrian? He had disappeared, much like he always did. The prince was no longer the man who had saved her in the streets, who had shown her the gentler side of his nature in their time together. Now, he was the aloof, enigmatic prince who would only ever view her through the lens of her family's expectations.

She knocked softly on his door, the sound echoing in the silence of the palace corridor.

It felt like a lifetime before he answered.

"What is it?" His voice was curt, almost dismissive, and yet there was an edge to it.

"I—" Eleanor faltered. She had come here to talk to him, to explain herself, but now, faced with the cool detachment in his voice, the uncertainty seemed to settle in her chest once more.

"Adrian, I—"

"What do you want, Eleanor?" he asked, his words sharp and final.

The tension between them hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. For a moment, Eleanor didn't know what to say. She had no idea what he wanted, or what she was even supposed to say.

But as she stood there, watching the prince's face—cold, distant, and unreadable—she realized the truth. She had no control over the rumors, no control over the whispers that followed her every step. All she could do was navigate the storm, pretending she had the strength to weather it all.

And the worst part? She wa

sn't sure if she even believed that.