Ego || Gaston

Close Shave

She was a vision of beauty, even with her eyebrows knit in fury, every aspect of her seemingly hand crafted by gods themselves, as she strode towards me and placed her sword up to my throat.

I chuckled.

"Hello, Angelique."

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I confidently strode over to the tall, burly figure, pulling off my hood and cloak, and letting my hair free. His dark, raven hair was neatly coiffed and pulled back into a low stallion tail, as it had been since I'd known him. That  jacket, clinging to his muscular, broad frame, the small cleft in his chin following through to his sharp, strong jawline. I burned his appearance into my mind, never once wanting to forget just how good he looked like this, completely under my power.

His clear blue eyes, framed by long, thick black eyelashes, usually only ever showing lust or anger – the man had the emotional range of a spoon – seemed to glimmer in shocked surprise as he took in my form.

I couldn't blame him for it. I knew I was everything any man could ever desire in their deepest, darkest thoughts. Strong in body and in mind, intelligent, quick-witted and beautiful. There was no man in the whole of France who could possibly deserve such a woman.

I made sure to make a show of myself as I pressed the cool metal of my sword against the gallant Captain's throat.

"How are you even alive?" I hissed, pressing into his neck ever so slightly more with the blade.

"Hello, Angelique." He drawled in his smooth, rich voice. I drank up every second, every syllable of my name as he spoke. I thought the last time I'd ever hear it said was when he was screaming it out, writhing in pain, taking his last few gulps of air on a battlefield. And then he did the unthinkable.

He laughed

And suddenly the whole world was red though my eyes. I felt a growl escape my throat as I flexed my arm to decapitate this monster in front of me, but the gasps from the crowds behind us gave me a better idea.

I had to calm down first.

~ deep breaths, Angelique, deep breaths. Think about the war, and explosions, and the look on his face as you plunged the sword deep into his abdomen..... ~

I felt myself exhaling, letting my arm relax slightly, but keeping the blade at his throat. He couldn't have moved if he tried.

The world slowly returned to it's dingy own colours, with the only red left in my sight being that of his own clothing.

How fitting.

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"So glad you could remember my name, mon cheri," her clear-as-a-bell, sultry voice sang out to me.

God, it had been years –

"You've aged," she playfully continued, loudly enough for all the townspeople gathered around us to hear. I felt her carefully moving the blade against the light stubble on my throat, mock-shaving me, toying with the flesh to remind me just how overpowered by her I was.

Her eyes never once shifting from mine, and smirking, she cocked a perfectly shaped brow, awaiting my reaction, and it took me a moment to process exactly what she'd said.

How dare she. I've aged? I'm still the most handsome, eligible bachelor in this village, in this province, in all of the country and she dares say that I look - old - ?

Not even Belle, the woman who rejected me multiple times over, not even once did she reject me for my looks.

But this was a game of cat and mouse we were playing. She was trying to break my confidence – She was going to have to try harder than that.

I had one free hand, my other hand being pinned to the wooden pillar behind me, and I had no sword.

But I did have my hunting rifle – and it was deliciously within my reach.

Whatever I was going to do, I needed to decide fast.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" I charmingly replied, flashing her a long, slow smile. I eased my free hand as cautiously as I could behind my back.

Not cautiously enough.

"Believe me, I do hope so, Monsieur Gaston." She snarled, every last syllable of my name a spit in my face. I felt her press the blade hard against my throat, and then a swift sharp pain. With that, she removed the blade, and I felt a slight warm wetness from my neck. I moved my free hand up quickly to assess the damages.

Just a small nick, nothing more than one would get if they'd been careless with a razor. Enough to briefly draw blood, but nothing more. A feeble attempt to scare me.

"That was just a taste – " She paused, moving close enough to me that I could feel her breath against my ear as she whispered " - of what you've got coming to you, mon amour."

And with that, she laughed, shot me a playful look and turned away from me, pulling free the knife which had trapped my arm with ease as she did so. She walked back towards her horse and the townspeople, beckoning them to come with her to the tavern.

My tavern. I sighed, and closed my eyes.

Everything about her, her voice, her looks, her smell, were so dizzyingly overwhelming to me I had a hard time holding myself back. But I needed to remind myself of who she was.

Angelique D'Arcy. The only person I knew of who was equal with me in terms of military prowess, was a swifter hunter, and was more of a charmer than I was. Within an hour, I had no doubt she could have the whole of this village ready to hang, draw and quarter me, then roast me on a spit if that's what she wanted to do.

As frustrating and defeating as it was, it was outrageously attractive to me.

And with that, I strode towards the tavern – MY  tavern, not once thinking of what would happen once I stepped through the doors.