The Princess's Dangerous Vampire Mate-Chapter 65: The aunt and uncle.

As expected by me the servant’s entrance and exit was the least guarded way out of the palace and only three to four guards were protecting it which did not even bother to check our appearance. So, getting out of the castle was fairly easy.

Now the hardest part was finding Tristan’s aunt and telling her what had happened and the reason why as well.

"We are almost there." Merilyn held onto my hand tightly and we made our way to the cold and silent winds of the market which was lovely and bright during the day. It somehow frightened me.

"It’s that one." She pointed to the house as we stood at the beginning of the lane.

"Should we go?" I whispered as I realized that I was at blame here and whatever I did was never going to help me in gaining forgiveness of the man that lay bloody, bruised, and injured in a cold prison cell.

She gripped my hand tighter. "Do not worry princess. At least we are making efforts to get him out. For all, we know we could have just left him there and continued with our lives."

Yes, that could be the worst part of him being killed, while we were here asking for help.

My heartbeat slowed down as I realized that I was once again meeting his family only to inform them that their son was in grave danger and to be exact, so much so, that he could be dead any moment.

I was sure that they were going to ask me to leave and never return to his life again which I was prepared for.

The moment I stepped out of this Kingdom and into my own to marry someone else, I would never meet the merchant again as Layla or just Genevieve. I would be meeting him as the Queen of a country.

"Let us go," I gave her an uncertain look. "This is probably for the best that we are involving his family to help us."

Marilyn did not move when I took the first step. Instead, she grabbed my wrist and turned around to face her.

"Princess Genevieve, of house hearthorn, the first of her name, daughter of the great Queen Cynthia," she recited my title, something that had been embedded in her since the time she spoke her first words. "Do you realize what you are doing?"

I shook my head in honesty. I had no idea what I was doing.

She smiled sadly, patting my cheek as she spoke, "You are saving the life of one man with the help of his family. Do you remember that back home you are supposed to save a whole country by giving yourself away in a marriage where you never choose for anything to happen?" She reminded me of the harsh reality and my heart constricted.

I remembered.

"This is something you are doing out of the kindness of your heart. Something that you want to do because you care for the man individually," she pointed her finger at my fast beating heart, "because your heart, for the first time, wants to do something for its pleasure."

I sniffed and my eyes filled with tears. "You know?" She nodded, making me cry harder. I closed my eyes and bowed my head as sobs racked my body. "I cannot. . .I should . . Not. ."

I was wrong, so wrong for this to happen.

She hugged me close, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me to her chest without caring if anyone saw us.

"I do not understand how you feel but sometimes women will always be the sufferers as we are expected to make greater sacrifices." She hugged me harder and I appreciated it more. "These sacrifices of not just life but mind and heart are well."

I pulled back and nodded my head, lowering it slightly to the ground. This might be the only action that I would do out of my selfishness. Something that I wanted to do from the bottom of my heart and not because of duty but simply my pleasure.

"Let us go, "I said once more determined than I was ever before. I was going to save the man that I had feelings for and the only man that I might ever think of as someone who is not using me for his good.

I turned around and moved forward more determined than a soldier to the house of the merchant.

I knocked on it and waited for someone to come and open the door or a mere holler to yes they were coming.

But nothing was heard because of which I took my whole hand and banged it against the door repeatedly.

"Perhaps, they are sleeping. . ." Merilyn said softly and I nodded and took a few steps back.

"Wake up! Chiara!" I yelled at the top of my voice. "Chiara! It’s—"

"Layla!" I heard from somewhere behind me and looked to see Chiara standing on the second level of a house.

"What are you doing there?!" She whispered at me with a frown.

I looked back to the house where I had been knocking and then glared at Marilyn who stepped back in fear.

"I know I am stupid." She nodded to herself and slapped the back of her head.

I shook my head and walked to the house where Chiara had appeared from and by the time I reached it, Chiara had opened the door for me.

"What is the matter, Layla? It does not make me feel well knowing the two young girls were out at this time!" She whispered harshly at us.

"Believe me, We have a good reason to do so." I sighed and asked, "can we come in for this?"

******

"How in the world?!" Dawson; Tristan’s uncle, yelled at the top of his voice making me and Merilyn jump, looking at us Chiara stood up and walked to her husband.

"Who does that Princ—" the moment his wife placed her hand on his chest he calmed down immediately.

His chest heaved but he had fallen silent.

"Calm, my love," she whispered to him and he nodded. "We will deal with it but not with a short temper rather a calm mind."

He nodded again and his breathing slowed down than before.

She turned around and walked to us, sitting in front of me, she asked, "Are you sure that there is no other article of the fact that you might have left?"

What other information could I probably provide them with that would work in his favor?

I shook my head. "I remembered that Tristan would gather information about the abducted victims and their families which is why I suggested his name to the prince. If I even had the slightest inkling that this would happen, I would have never uttered his name." My eyes burned slightly and I looked away before blinking away the tears.

She smiled, barely a twitch of lips in the upward direction it was. "I understand that." Chiara sighed and closed her eyes as her head fell in her awaiting hands. She was tense.

"I do not understand . . . It is better than my sister is not here because if she was she would have never let me live with that. Her son is. . ." She sniffed and breathed in and out heavily trying to control her tears so that she would not break down in front of us all.

I admired her strength. She was trying to keep it in and become a pillar of strength and guidance to us all which was not something I saw in many women.

She sighed and looked up, sitting straight and regal like a woman empowered. "I do not understand what made the second crown Prince decide that throwing my nephew in the prison was the best option when he was just trying to help the country."

I gulped and glanced at Marilyn who had glanced at me as well. I had shamelessly sung the details of events that happened throughout our first meeting with Tristan and had not missed anything except a slightly small detail. The Prince is assumed that I had feelings for Tristan.

This was true but I wanted to deny it in my mind for as long as I could.

I gulped again and with courage, I thanked the Lord for sending my way and told her, "The Prince thinks that. . .I might. . . Like him."

"You like the Prince?" Sir Dawson frowned as none of it made sense to him and it was not possible.

"No, no," I shook my head, "For Tristan I meant." I corrected it.

"Ah," he sighed and rubbed his forehead, nodding to himself.

That, I think, might not be normal but never mind.

"I would like to thank you for coming to inform us about it. Tristan is a grown man and sometimes he goes to stay out, which had me slightly concerned as he did not tell us about it prior." Tristan’s aunt sighed. "We should have been more active but. ."

"But," her husband continued, "Now we must make sure to get him out of that hell."

"For which, Merilyn and I have a plan for that." I told them and immediately followed with, "if you want us to help of course, given that we have caused you too much trouble."

"It’s quite alright," Chiara waved it off as if it was nothing new. She smiled but I knew immediately that it was full of grief like I had seen on the victim’s mother two days before or something that would tell me that she was concerned in the slightest bit. It was filled with mischief as she was going to have fun with what was going to come next.

"Now," she crossed her legs over, "Tell us the plan."