"Your Grace, might I suggest you retire for the evening?" Jameson inquired politely. "You have partaken in enough wine for one night," he added with quiet deference.
"Leave me be and see to your own rest," the Crown Prince, Daedric, commanded curtly.
With a slight bow, Jameson refrained from further argument and withdrew from the Crown Prince's presence.
After some time, Daedric stepped out of his chambers and wandered into the solitude of the garden. He paused in the center of the bridge spanning the pond, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light around him. Gazing down at his reflection rippling on the water's surface, he tightened his grip on the wine glass in his hand.
"I need to move on," he whispered to himself, the words heavy with resignation. "But how? She is no longer mine. Why does it ache so much to see her smile at Sullivan?" His voice faltered, dropping to a murmur. "It is not jealousy any more. It is a weird longing, which is eating me from inside."
