"My guards have informed me that you have attempted to flee the palace once again," Sylus broke the silence, his gaze fixed on you from his position on the bed.

Though the Crown Prince had grown accustomed to your defiance, he abhorred it. He detested the lengths to which you would go to defy him, to elude him. It vexed him deeply. Though he had been schooled in the virtues of patience, your antics never failed to test his restraint.

What more could he do to make you understand that you were betrothed to him? That in no more than three months' time, you would be his bride? He had granted you the space you claimed to need. He had been patient. But his patience had worn thin, and he was through with playing the gentleman. He would no longer be so gentle in his approach.

"It appears that you have yet to come to terms with your destiny, my princess," the prince continued, rising to his feet.