Exiled Prince: I'm the Unexpected Extra in the Novel-Chapter 129: The Pillow Thief Princess

The War for the North[17]

Leaving behind the magical atmosphere of the hot spring, the relaxing effect of the hot water, and Cryomara’s confusing presence, Cassian finally reached the room assigned to him.

The spacious, high-ceilinged room was furnished with dark wood and soft furs. There were embers in the fireplace that were fading but still kept the room warm.

Cassian put on the clean, cotton nightshirt left by the maid.

He let himself fall onto the wide bed. The mattress was so soft it felt like sinking into a cloud. He pulled the duvet up to his chin and buried his head in the down pillow.

It was three in the morning. The howl of the storm outside only deepened the silence inside.

"Finally..." he murmured.

His eyes closed, his breathing deepened. His consciousness began to drift into that sweet mist between sleep and wakefulness. For the first time in days, he was going to get a peaceful sleep without threats.

However, fate had other plans for him.

Just as he was about to step through the door of the dream realm, the air in the room changed.

The heat in the fireplace was suddenly sucked away. Frosting on the windows increased. The room temperature plummeted instantly.

With a sleepy reflex, Cassian wrapped the duvet tighter around himself, pulling it up to his nose. He tried to isolate himself from the outside world, to ignore that cold. It’s just the wind, he told himself. Just the cold of the North...

But his instincts began to sound the alarm.

Someone was watching him.

A pair of eyes staring in the darkness. And silent, steady breathing.

The spreading aura resembled Cryomara’s dominant mana, deep as the ocean. But this was different. Rawer, more unstable, more... fragile, yet just as sharp.

Without even bothering to come out from under the duvet, Cassian mumbled in a hoarse and tired voice:

"What do you want... Cecilia Frosthelm?"

No answer came.

The silence was as disturbing as the cold. The girl didn’t speak, didn’t move. She just continued to stand there in the dark.

Then footsteps were heard. Slow, cautious steps.

SNAP.

The room’s chandeliers flared to life instantly. The sudden light seeped even through Cassian’s closed eyelids, making his brain throb.

Damn it... Cassian thought.

He squeezed his eyes shut, burying himself further under the duvet. What did this girl want at this hour of the night?

He ran scenarios in his head: Maybe she was having another trust crisis. Maybe she would demand an oath of loyalty. Or maybe she was just scared and needed someone to say ’everything will be okay.’

Cassian was determined not to come out from under the duvet.

This girl’s mental structure was like a minefield; any conversation with her without Cryomara present could end in disaster.

If I ignore her, maybe she’ll go away, he thought.

But he was wrong.

He felt the end of the duvet being tugged.

Cassian clung tightly to the duvet from the inside without opening his eyes. He resisted like a stubborn child.

But Cecilia had no intention of giving up. She pulled the duvet again, harder this time.

Cassian gritted his teeth. Pull as much as you want, little princess, he thought with excessive overconfidence. A mage cannot be matched in strength by someone like you, not after all the experiments I endured.

He held the duvet as if clamping it in a vice. He hoped Cecilia would give up after a few failed attempts and shuffle out of the room.

After a moment’s pause, Cecilia hauled on the duvet with such force that not only the duvet came.

Cassian, clinging tightly to the duvet, lifted off the bed like a rag doll. Gravity lost its meaning for a moment.

"WHA-?!"

Before he could finish his sentence, his back hit the hard stone wall.

THUD!

He stuck to the opposite wall of the room like a fly.

When his back hit the hard stone, the air in his lungs emptied. He collapsed to the floor along with the pile of bedding.

"Ugh..." Cassian groaned in pain.

He slightly parted the duvet and looked at his attacker.

Cecilia was standing at the head of the bed. She was wearing a white silk nightgown. Her long silver hair was messy.

And those ice-blue eyes... They were looking at Cassian, writhing in pain on the floor, in an emotionless, cold, and piercing manner.

In that moment, Cassian felt the crumbs of hope inside him—hope for sleep—vanish.

He was used to Cordelia’s quirks, Cryomara’s eccentricities, but Cecilia’s... this "emptiness" was far more eerie.

plastered against the wall, Cassian asked in an innocent and baffled voice:

"What?"

Cecilia spoke without breaking her expression.

"Nothing."

Cassian’s jaw dropped. "Huh?!"

Did she wake him from his sleep, turn on the lights, and throw him against the wall just to say ’nothing’?

Cassian decided to ask a clearer question.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice a bit harder.

Cecilia continued to look at him without blinking.

"Nothing."

Cassian took a deep breath.

"In that case..." he said through his teeth. "...may I ask why you entered my room, ripped me from my bed, and threw me against the wall, Your Grace?"

Cecilia tilted her head slightly to the side. She answered in a completely flat tone, as if giving a logical explanation:

"This is my castle. I can do what I want."

Cassian’s single eye twitched. was this girl serious? were her social skills even worse than a caveman’s?

"Look," said Cassian, standing up and dusting himself off. "I admit I am not very knowledgeable about the local customs of Frosthelm. But... I don’t think raiding guests’ rooms at midnight and plastering them against the wall fits diplomatic etiquette very well."

"Is that so?" asked Cecilia, with not the slightest sign of curiosity or regret in her voice.

Cassian made a gesture throwing his hands in the air, showing he gave up. This dialogue was going nowhere.

He picked up his duvet from the floor and dragged it back to the bed.

"If you don’t have a concrete, logical request... With your permission, I am returning to my very precious and currently much-needed peaceful sleep."

Ignoring Cecilia’s presence, he got into bed, pulled the duvet over himself, and turned his back to her.

There was silence for a few seconds.

Then, the edge of the duvet was grabbed again.

Just as Cassian was about to say, "No, not again"...

FLAP!

Cecilia grabbed the duvet and pulled it in a single motion, leaving Cassian in the middle of the bed, vulnerable in his nightshirt and exposed to the cold.

The cold air instantly stuck to his skin.

Cassian sat up, messing up his hair. What is wrong with this girl, for God’s sake?

He ground his teeth but tried to keep his voice soft.

"Lady Cecilia... Could I perhaps get my duvet back? Without it, I don’t think I can sleep in this polar cold."

Cecilia stood there holding the gathered duvet.

"You can’t."

Short. Clear. And annoying.

"I see..."

Suppressing the anger inside him, Cassian closed his eyes again. Fine, he told himself. I’ll sleep without the duvet. I can withstand the cold. Just ignore her.

Just as he focused on falling asleep, the softness under his head suddenly vanished. His eyes flew wide open when his head hit the mattress hard. His pillow was gone too.

He sat up from where he lay and turned to Cecilia, who was holding both the duvet and the pillow.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his voice now pushing the limits of exhaustion.

Cecilia didn’t answer. She just stood there with the duvet and pillow like a loot hunter, staring at him with those eerie blue eyes.

Cassian sat up in bed. He analyzed the situation. He couldn’t be rude to this girl; Cryomara would eat him alive. He couldn’t attack her; the trust relationship would end. He couldn’t kick her out of the room; this was her castle.

There was only one solution: Tactical retreat.

He got out of bed. He walked toward the window.

With a sudden decision, he opened the wings wide. The freezing night air filling the room was more sincere than the artificial cold inside.

He cast one last look at Cecilia, then his body blurred. The limits of his human form melted, black feathers covered his skin, and in a second, he turned into a crow as black as the night.

This was the best decision. Spending the night in an inn, a stable, or even on a tree branch was more appealing than staying in this room right now. He flapped his wings and threw himself from the window ledge into the void, into freedom.

Just as he was about to get out...

CRACK!

The window opening was covered with a thick, transparent, and unbreakable layer of ice in less than a second.

THUD!

Cassian, in crow form, slammed into the ice with his beak and head.

He bounced back, stunned, and fell to the floor. Amidst black smoke, he turned back into his human form, sitting on his butt. He was holding his forehead.

This was the last straw.

"DAMN IT!"

Cassian sprang to his feet, turning to Cecilia in rage. There was no politeness left now.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" he shouted. "You are seriously getting on my nerves! You come at three in the morning, you beat me up, you rob my bed, you don’t even let me escape!"

He walked towards Cecilia but kept a distance.

"Look! If you want something, just say it! Do you not have a tongue? As long as you act like a psychopath, I can’t understand what you want! Are you hungry? Are you thirsty? Did you have a nightmare? What?!"

Cecilia flinched at this outburst from Cassian but did not retreat; she took a step forward. That dull expression on her face softened slightly, replaced by a more human, sadder curiosity.

She leaned down, coming eye to eye with Cassian, who was still rubbing his forehead on the floor.

Her blue eyes pierced into Cassian’s red ones.

"I want to know you," she said. Her voice was like a whisper but echoed in the room.

Cassian froze. "To... know me?"

"Yes," said Cecilia. "Tell me... what kind of life you have lived. Who you are, where you came from, what you are hiding behind those eyes... I want to know."

Cassian laughed in astonishment. It was an angry laugh.

"Was this it? Was this the reason for disturbing me, throwing me against walls, stealing my pillow, and sealing the window in my face? You just want to hear a story?"

He shook his head.

"You could have asked this in the morning! You could have asked at breakfast! Why now?"

"I want it now!" Cecilia insisted. Her voice carried the stubbornness of a small child, but the glint in her eyes said she could bring the room down on their heads if refused.

Cassian looked at her. He saw this girl’s loneliness, the curiosity behind those cold walls, and perhaps that "disconnection" she recognized in him.

Cassian slumped his shoulders. He accepted that he had no other choice, that he couldn’t get rid of this girl tonight.

There was no escape route, no sleep. There was only a curious ice princess and a story that needed to be told.

"Fine..." said Cassian, surrendering. "Fine, you win."

He held out his hand.

"If you give me back my pillow and duvet... and promise not to throw me against the wall again... I will tell you."

Cecilia paused for a moment. Then she dropped the duvet and pillow into Cassian’s lap as if she didn’t need them anymore.

Without saying anything, she moved to the edge of the bed. She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest, and looked at Cassian with expectant eyes. She was just like an impatient child waiting for a bedtime story; the only difference was that this child had the power to freeze a city with a single finger.

Cassian settled into his place on the bed, wrapping himself in his duvet, cleared his throat, and in this strangest moment of the night, began to think about where to start his story.