In a single instant, the situation escalated to a complex level, confusing both of us, but especially him. Since that day, the thing that used to be okay between us no longer is, and it's getting to the point where there's no hope. Perhaps the prince has finally realized how he feels about Raeanna.
I was in so much pain that I couldn't stop crying, but I knew that I had to give him the space he needed. It was more than painful because I had to see him every day, accompany him wherever he went, and endure this suffering.
My chest tightened up when I learned that the prince would be traveling for almost two weeks outside of the country. Shouldn't I feel relieved? I, like him, will have time to think. But no, what I experienced was completely at odds with what my mind had been imagining.
I desperately wanted to talk to him and see him, but my presence would only confuse him further. Therefore, I have to prevent myself from doing so.
I was able to see him and watch him leave the palace from the top of the palace.
"Will you not be saying your goodbyes to Prince Augustus?" Walden showed up.
I shook my head. "He's going back, so there's no point in saying goodbye," 
"Is something going on between you two?"
"How can you say so?" I shifted my gaze to him.
"Because you two have been acting distant lately,"
"He needed time to think."
"I'm not sure what's going on between the two of you, so I'm not going to pry,"  Walden ruined my hair. "You need to stop thinking about this so much."
I nodded.
"The king, by the way, wants me to rely on his message. He told you that you could go home."
"Okay,"
"Hey," Walden said, lifting my head. "Perk up, Gemma!"
Walden was about to put his hand on my head when I grabbed it. "Walden, could you..."
"What?"
"Ah, nothing." I was going to ask him to come with me to the prison, but then I thought that perhaps it would be best for me to go there by myself.
After organizing some of my belongings, I prepare to leave the palace. Mr. Osiris wants to send me home, but I refuse and insist on taking a taxi.
I told the cab driver, "To Manila prison."
A jail officer from the facility leads me to the waiting area for visitors. In the eyes of every inmate and their loved ones, I see nothing but pure joy. This does not appear to be a frightening place for them. Not because they're out of cell, but because their family is waiting.
As soon as I saw my dad walk into the visitation room, the melancholy that had been weighing so heavily on my heart disappeared almost instantly.
I held onto him, and whenever I did, a sense of comfort and peace returned to me. "Papa..."
Many times a day, my father runs his hand through my hair, applying a light amount of pressure.
"It was great to see you again, my precious stone."
"I missed you; I missed you so much, papa," I sobbed as tears dripped from the corner of my eyes. "It'll be over soon, papa; you just have to hang in there for a little bit longer."
"It's all right, my stone. You don't have to do anything. Years aren't a big deal anyway. If this is my destiny, then all I can do is learn to accept it."
"No," I said, clutching him even more tightly. "If being a slave for a long time is the price I have to pay to free you, then so be it. Or, if getting hurt is the only option, I'll just have to learn to live with that pain. Because if we were to go on living without you, it would only make our pain that much worse."
Papa stepped out of my embrace.' You shouldn't have to shoulder the burden of this. You need to stop worrying about other things and concentrate on your studies instead. But I overlooked the fact that you are a lady now; you're no longer the wailing child you used to be,"  Papa placed his lips on my brow. "However, getting involved in this will only bring you more suffering, Gemma."
"I told you it was fine,"
"Once you know the truth, you'll hate everyone."
Papa and I exchanged stares. "What kind of truth?"
"Mr. Mendoza, 15 minutes are up." The guard who escorted Papa returns to return him to his cell.
"No, wait," I said, taking papa's arm in mine. "What truth are you trying to hide?"
Papa placed my hand on the table and handed me a piece of paper. "Don't despise her. I was the one who caused her pain," he said quietly.
"Who are you referring to, papa?" I questioned while desperately chasing after Papa.
I came to a halt near a roadside bench.
I was terrified to open the letter Papa had given me. I'm afraid that if I read this, I'll despise the people around me, as Papa warned. Can I still bear the pain after discovering the truth?
I take deep breaths as I slowly open the letter.