C24 CHAPTER24

“Hector!” Devon roared. “What in the world was that for? Why on earth did you kick him? How many times must I tell you to curb your impulses around me? How many warnings do you need?" He advanced on Hector, who was quaking, not from the chill, but from dread of his master's potential wrath.

“Master, I beg your forgiveness! I'm so sorry! Please, forgive me!” Hector implored, on his knees as was typical. “I was only trying to protect you,” he added.

Devon let out a derisive snort. “Protect me? From what, exactly?” he demanded.

Hector raised his head, gesturing toward the six humans before them. “From them, Master. These humans are formidable and must be controlled at all costs. They need to recognize your authority as the Third Prince and their lack of any right to show you disrespect! That's precisely why I struck him…” His voice faded as Devon cut him off with a shout.

“Enough! Be silent!” Devon commanded. Blake and his guards assumed Devon had reached his limit, which is why he silenced Hector. However, the real reason was that Hector was on the verge of disclosing Devon's time in the dungeon and his attempt at a peaceful dialogue with Seymour, which had ended in aggression. Exposure was not an option.

“I...I apologize, Master,” Hector quickly said, catching on.

“That's better. Now, fetch Sia for me,” Devon directed.

Once Hector had departed, Devon addressed Blake. “I appreciate your vigilance, but rest assured, I can handle things from here. You're dismissed,” he stated.

“Third Prince, are you certain about this?” Blake inquired, signaling his men to remove the cage.

“I am quite sure I don't require your assistance with the humans at this juncture,” Devon affirmed.

“As you command, Third Prince Devon,” Blake acquiesced, instructing his men to exit with the cage. Noticing Sia approaching, he leaned in and murmured to Devon, “I'm still open to the idea of a maid exchange, Third Prince.”

A single piercing glance from Devon sent Blake promptly retreating. Shaking his head, Devon then focused on Sia.

“You called for me, Master?” she inquired, bowing respectfully.

“Yes, I have six guests here in need of your exceptional care. They require bathing and feeding, and I trust you to manage it. The lady is to have her own room, as is he,” he indicated Seymour, “while the other men can bunk together. Have you understood my instructions?” he asked Sia.

Sia's face was a mix of surprise and confusion, yet she didn't dare challenge her Master. "Yes, I understand everything you've said, Master. I'll ensure they're well cared for," she promised, beckoning the 'guests' to follow her.

Devon watched them depart, aware that his decision would stir controversy, but it was a necessary move. After all, within his own domain, he was free to act as he pleased.

*****

Around eight in the morning, Devon's eyes fluttered open, and a wave of panic and dread washed over him.

Why?

He was set to marry Princess Olivia Tara Miller in just three days, and failing to intervene would cost him dearly.

Rising from bed, he freshened up and made his way to breakfast. The scents that greeted him were delightful, reminiscent of his days in Houston, of a life once ordinary. The house was alive with the aromas of toast, coffee, chamomile tea, baked beans, bacon, steak, bread, chicken, butter, and milk. His guests were already gathered at the table, anticipation evident as they eyed the feast before them. They looked refreshed, a marked improvement from the day before, which pleased Devon.

"Good morning, Third Prince," they greeted, standing in unison.

"Good morning, everyone," Devon replied, taking his seat.

As breakfast commenced, Devon observed Sarah and the others savoring their meal, a stark contrast to their dungeon fare. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

His gaze then shifted to the maids in the dining room, and he sensed their duplicity. It was likely the Royal Father had been informed of the recent events. Devon steeled himself for the fallout; respect from the servants and guards was not the same as loyalty.

And it was so messed up.

In the entire chamber, only Hector's allegiance was unwavering, a loyalty secured through Devon's own magic. Hector was the sole confidant he could truly rely on.

"Everyone, please leave," he directed the guards and maids in the dining room.

Hector was on the verge of vanishing when Devon halted him. "You need to stay."

"Yes, Master." Hector attempted to conceal his pleasure, but Devon recognized the subtle satisfaction in being singled out to remain.

"Keep a firm grip on your temper," Devon cautioned.

"Understood, Master," Hector replied.

Devon gave a nod and pivoted towards his guests. "Now, shall we have a discussion?" he proposed, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

"We have nothing to discuss with you while that beast is in the room!" Zane declared contemptuously.

"Enough, he stays," Devon cut in sharply.