At first, Hunter thought of calling Evelyn, but he knew how much she loved her beauty sleep, and Samantha was not an option he would choose. So without much thought, Hunter dialled Bianca's number and put her on speaker so that Danny could hear.
"Ace, what's wrong? Why are you calling at this hour?" She asked, genuinely worried. "Do me a favour, Sunshine, I want to speak to Hera," he said, and Bianca started towards Hera's room without asking any more questions. After what happened yesterday between them, she didn't want to upset him again. She could do this for him.
Hunter heard a knock as Bianca reached Hera's door.
Hera's sleepy voice sounded through the speaker. "What do you want, Bianca?" She asked tiredly, but Bianca didn't answer. She silently gave her phone to Hera and watched while she spoke to Hunter.
"Goddess, I just wanted to wish you Goodnight," he said, and Hera groaned in disapproval.. "I was sleeping, and you woke me up to say Goodnight?" She asked incredulously. Hunter chuckled at her irritated cute voice before he looked at Danny. "Sorry, Love, you're alone in the room, so I'm worried. I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he said, repeating Danny's words.
"I'm not alone, Hunter. Abby is staying with me," Hera said, and Hunter saw Danny sighing in relief for the second time.
"Goodnight, Goddess. Sleep well," Hunter said and disconnected the call after thanking Bianca and wishing Goodnight to her as well.
IN THE SOUTHERN PART OF EUROPE,
Ekali,
Athens,
Greece.
AT CASTELLANOS MANSION,
Johnathan lifted the silver spoon to his mouth and hummed his appreciation as the sweetness coated his taste buds. The happy giggle he earned in return sounded like a sweet melody in his ears.
"I learned it through the internet, and I made it myself without any help," his sixteen-year-old daughter stated excitedly. "You're the first to taste it. Do you like it, Papa?" She asked, taking a seat beside him on the bed.
"It's the best sweet I've ever tasted in my life," Johnathan replied with a hint of pride. He had eaten tiramisu many times, but the Italian dessert never tasted this delicious before. What made it special was that his beloved daughter had prepared it. She aced it, though it was her first time cooking. He grabbed his wallet from the bedside table and pulled out all the crispy notes from it.
"Here, this is your reward for being an excellent chef, my dear Helena," he said, holding out the wad of cash for his daughter. The lovely vibrant smile she gifted him while grabbing the money warmed his heart. Their hugging session was rudely interrupted as Myra, Johnathan's wife entered the room with a disapproving groan.
"Your grandfather won't be pleased if he learns about your close acquaintance with the kitchen staff and to add more to his displeasure you're engaging yourself in the household work. Helena, you're a princess and act like one," Myra chided her only daughter. Both father and daughter rolled their eyes in sync and laughed together.
Helena walked up to her mother and hugged her from behind, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Mom, you need to chill. I know what grandfather would say and you of all people should know that I don't care about his medieval beliefs," she said and hopped back on the bed to loop her arms with Johnathan's.
"Monarchy doesn't even exist in our country anymore. Grandfather needs to update his facts," she laughed, and her mother scowled, shaking her head in resignation.
It was time for dinner and Myra was worried that if her husband and daughter didn't make it in time, she would be held responsible for it. She wasn't ready to face any more accusation from her father-in-law. He was already disappointed in her as she failed to meet his expectations in bringing up her daughter. Because according to him Helena lacked the etiquettes and mannerisms, must for a royalty.
Myra was helpless since her daughter took after Johnathan in character and behaviour. They were both kind souls and would treat every human with respect and care, regardless of their social and economic status.
After a subdued demand by her mother, Helena finally heeded to her command and left to join the rest of her family for dinner.
Johnathan's mood changed into his usual gloomy state as soon as his daughter left his room. Myra suppressed the urge to grab his arm and demand for his attention. It wasn't anything new. She got used to her husband's inattentiveness long back, and now that she'd mastered the art of faking emotions, it'd become easy to digest the ugly truth that Johnathan didn't love her.
She'd learnt that he would never love her and accepted her unhappy marriage as her fate.
It's not new. History has proof, every foundation to the royal entity stood on crushed hearts and brutal sacrifices.
'It would hurt less once you stop expecting.'
Myra consoled her yearning heart and watched with her sad eyes as her husband disappeared behind the door to their ensuite bathroom. She was in love with her husband and couldn't stop loving him even after his blatant rejection since the very beginning of their marriage. She was glad, at least Johnathan loved their daughter unconditionally. Her birth was the best gift Myra could ever have in her life.
Myra's eyes skimmed through the hanging pictures decorating the wall above the mahogany cot, gaze brushing over the moments seized in them. A smile lit up her face when she stopped at one particular picture, her favourite of them all. Her newborn daughter cradled in Johnathan's arms while he smiled down at the baby with so much love in his eyes.
Helena was the bridge to their broken marriage, which kept them glued together despite Johnathan's unwillingness. He would never leave Myra for the sake of their daughter's happiness. Thanking heaven for the gift, Myra left after arranging her husband's attire for the evening on their bed.
After a thirty-minute long shower, Johnathan got dressed and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked handsome in his black silk formal shirt tucked into his trousers, except for the defeated look in his eyes. Masking his disappointment with life, he buried all the bitterness behind a practised perfect smile playing on his lips and made his way out.
Johnathan's eyebrows lifted as he surveyed the big dining hall. It was time for dinner, yet surprisingly, none of his family members was around, though the dining table next to the royal kitchen had already set. It was unlikely that anybody would dare to disobey their King.
He found his wife issuing orders to the kitchen staff. As though the woman felt his eyes on her, Myra looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. His smile was stiff, and it felt heavy in his heart to force it anymore on his face. She eyed his broad shoulders before locking gaze with him. He knew what she's contemplating on to ask or not to ask. He deliberately forgot to put on his suit jacket.
Etiquettes only irk him more.
'To hell with formal attire and the formalities.'
With a slight nod of acknowledgement, Johnathan proceeded towards the spacious living room as gestured by his wife. As he neared, he heard the soft melody playing through the piano. A genuine smile graced his lips for once, softening his hard facial features.
'Gisela is playing the piano, no doubt for her dear grandfather.'
He pushed open the door, and his gaze ran over the spacious hall. The boring, dull grey colour themed manor looked colourful for once as he witnessed his family seated together.
The music now sounded clear and louder, and Johnathan listened to the soft note the white and black keyboards on the instrument produced as the delicate fingers running over them guided. His niece was multitalented, and he couldn't be any more proud.
Leaning against the frame of the door, he watched silently.
The lavender silk gown Gisela wore, complimented the colourful fresh flowers decorated in the vases around the grand piano. Her grace and beauty matched perfectly with the portraits and pictures of their ancestors adorning the wall. Long hair, fair skin, pleasing personality, she was picture perfect.
'A fairy tale princess indeed.'
Johnathan smiled. He was glad that the girls in their family took after their mothers and got blessed with gorgeous looks.
And suddenly a thought invaded his mind out of nowhere.
'Hera looks nothing like them.'
The smile vanished from his lips, and Johnathan couldn't squash the guilt away.
He glanced at his own daughter sitting next to his mother. Helena wore a cream colour slim skirt, resting just above her knees. No pieces of jewellery except a thin wristwatch. His daughter loved the simplicity.
'Like father, like daughter.'
Johnathan felt a warm tug at heart at that thought. Her blonde hair tied loosely to the side, draped on her shoulder. She had her arm locked around her grandmother's.
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