The Cursed Prince's Strange Bride

Chapter 380 The Same 'Everything'

For most of the meeting, Harold looked absentminded, but he paid attention to all that they were saying.

He could not stop thinking about the first meeting they had this morning.

There was something about the queen and Damon's reactions that he couldn't shake off.

That had also made him remember what he heard from Alvin: that Susan had seen the queen and Damon chatting in the middle of the night before all this craziness began.

The other thing that bothered him was the idea of someone being against the royal family for a long time. Of course, he knew that the queen had no hand in what had happened. However, he couldn't say the same about the king's health because she had deliberately asked the physician not to mention it to anyone. But he knew she hadn't been involved in what happened that night concerning Beth, Tyra, and himself. And it meant that the person who had fed Prince Harry the potion was also responsible for what was happening now.

Harold had taken note of the way Alicia had looked at Damian. He also felt that there was something more about him, and this was the time he missed having Alvin around because Alvin would have started digging into him. But he also wanted Alvin to rest a lot. He would have to fix all the problems himself. Although it wasn't easy.

Now, he really understood the burden of being a leader. He always had something to tackle, and it made him have less time to spend with Alicia. Fortunately, she seemed to have developed a new hobby of learning how to use weapons. She was also trying to decode what Amber had written in her diary.

One may ask him why he hadn't met with Tyra for a long time.

He also wasn't sure.

But he knew it was more than just the fact that she was repulsive to him. There was a kind of energy around her that made him wary, and he didn't want to believe Tyra had been involved in this. He didn't want to believe that she had been the one to make him drink poison that day. He didn't want to believe that she had lied that day about her health to make him suggest that she stay back. He didn't want to believe she hadn't been out to witness Beth's death by coincidence.

He wasn't sure what he would do.

He really wasn't.

So as much as he wanted to listen to her tell him the truth, which he hoped was all a coincidence, he also didn't want to meet her.

He had also tried. But whenever he got to her hallway, he felt a strong aversion and a smell that pushed him away.

It was all frustrating.

However, they were going to take other routes to get to the bottom of this.

Maybe it was time to throw in the bait.

"We can start from here and see what we can find." A nobleman said before they all looked at Harold, waiting for his input.

He looked at the men seated around the table and spoke, "We can end here. If there is anything else that needs to be discussed, you can let me know it."

"Sir Rager has agreed to join the investigation to find out what happened to Sir Wilson. I believe we will get positive news soon." One man said.

Sir Rager.

That man was one lucky bastard.

If it had been a few months ago, the man wouldn't have been alive until this moment after what he did to Prince Harold's Princess. But luckily for him, Prince Harold was very level-headed now, thanks to Alvin and his bride.

"I guess that is it then." Harold was about to stand up when he noticed how the men were exchanging glances. It seemed like they had something to say but were hesitating to mention it.

"Speak now. You won't get this chance again." Harold said to them as he crossed his arms across his chest and remained seated.

The men all looked at each other as though communicating with their eyes before they tacitly decided on something, and one of them cleared his throat before speaking.

"My Prince... we... were thinking." He cleared his throat again before speaking humbly, "We know that... young people can do a lot of things these days and also act... rebellious, but traditions are sacred and shouldn't be broken, and--"

"Straight to the point."

Although Harold spoke calmly, the man jolted in his seat before blurting out, "It's about Princess Amber."

Harold furrowed his brows but said nothing as he waited for the man to say what he had to say on behalf of the others.

"The way... her choice of dressing bothers us--"

"Why would the choice of dressing of another man's wife bother you?" Harold asked the man calmly, but even though he was calm, the men shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

Another man spoke up, "My Prince, the thing is... we already addressed this in the court with the king. And... anyone who dresses that way should be punished because they are mocking us men by trying to dress like us--"

"Oh!" Harold looked like he got their point, but then he asked.

"So we should punish her?"

"Yes! I mean... no... not at all!" The man said at once, waving his hands in front of him with wide eyes at his initial error.

"In fact, I wanted to tell you that your bride is allowed to visit my clothing store anytime and pick out any nice women's clothing she fancies. She can pick as much as she wants for free!"

"For free! Lord Pascal owns the biggest clothing store in the kingdom and sells the best fabric" Another man chipped in, and the others nodded in support.

"Really?" Harold asked, looking at Lord Pascal suspiciously.

"Of course! She can pick anything she likes."

"Then what about me?" Harold asked him.

"Y-You?" The man stuttered and looked at his friends in confusion, wondering what he was asking about himself when they were talking about his wife's clothes.

"By chance... you also like to pick some clothes?" Lord Pascal asked inquisitively.

"Shouldn't I?" Harold asked him.

"Of course! Of course, you can! You can pick whatever you desire!" He said with a hearty laugh.

"Then I may have to trouble you, Lord Pascal. This is a bad time for me and my princess to leave the palace. So how about you fetch them for us yourself?"

"Really?" Sir Pascal's eyes lit up at the honour.

Not only was Prince Harold acknowledging him, but he was also going to let him leave the palace and breathe some fresh, less suffocating air outside the palace?! Who wouldn't want that?

Harold nodded. "They should be exactly the same for me and Princess."

"You mean the same colour? Or the same fabric?" The man asked excitedly.

"The same 'everything' from head to toe," Harold said while giving the man a pointed look.

The man tilted his head to one side, obviously confused. He looked at his friends again, and they seemed confused too.

"Uhm... My Prince... when you say the same from head to toe? You... you are not... saying you want to wear a dress... are you?" The man stuttered.

"Did you hit your head somewhere? Why would I wear a dress?" Harold asked, frowning at the man unpleasantly.

The man jumped in his seat and was about to apologize, but Harold cut him off.

"The same tunics, the same pants, the same boots." He said, placing emphasis on each word as he spoke to the man.

The man's eyes widened, and he looked at his friends. Weren't they just complaining about his wife's choice of clothing? How could he just ignore them and even make one of them bring in such types of clothing for his wife? That was supporting evil!

"But... we... we just said that your bride should not--"

"You are only allowed to control the way your wife dresses." Harold said to them before the image of a tiny Alicia standing on the table in front of him and pointing at him with one hand on her waist showed up in front of him, saying, "Women have the right to dress the way they want to. It's their bodies. Got it?" The tiny Alicia asked him.

Harold pursed his lips and nodded gently before he faced the men again, sighed, and added, "That's if your wives let you."

That was as far as he could go.

The men looked at each other but could not say anything as Harold continued.

"But do not cross the line and try to control how My lady should dress." He stood up, his face as hard as steel.

"This is a warning to you all. Do not make me lose my temper. You all know... it never ends well."

He said the last piece before he turned and left the room.