P R E V I O U S L Y
"There's no need to go after anyone," Llewellyn whispered from beside me, mischief shining clearly in his voice. "My brother has taken the fucking Castle."
ARCTON FORTRESS, RIMEBAY, VERTGATE.
TRISTAN
SHE WAS UNHURT.
THANK THE bloody heavens.
My eyes raked over her body, and I felt hers doing the same with mine. Edwina Tremayne's teal green eyes never left me, and they dragged down... lower and lower, making my lips pull up in a smirk. There was a slight bit of blood on her upper lip, and her lovely red hair was a tangle that could nest about five small birds, but otherwise she was unharmed.
My fingers itched to go and wipe that blood off her skin. To brush against those soft lips, to feel her burningly desirable scent around me.
Instead, I clenched my fists angrily and turned my attention to the things that needed it, forcing myself to turn my eyes away from her.
Flames were curling around the pillars as men tried to douse them with water, but the fire was furious and ferocious, getting muffled for a while and then rising again with vengeance. Only Eric or Edwina could douse them.
Justaline was stupidly sitting on a copper tub, her hair was half burnt at one side. Emerick was snapping at her, relaxedly hanging over the edge as Favian chatted with them both. Elias and the guards were taking turns to see who could shout more loudly at the men to douse the fire.
I cleared my throat as the room filled around us with Valmont soldiers. The remaining were on the field. We had lost not more than fifty men, whereas I'd sent more than a thousand of the enemy to hell.
I cleared my throat again, louder, as a crack of electricity shot through the air with a rumble of thunder, and the room fell dead silent. The color drained from the Rotavelle faces as they turned around to see me astride my stallion. My sword, Aetherius gleamed dangerously in hand and a livid expression shined in my eyes.
I dismounted in a swift motion, scanning the room whose people were stiller than statues. In the now silent Throne room, the click of my boots was the only thing to be heard.
"Perhaps you are still under the impression that the battle is merrily raging outside," I began curtly, my voice more frigid than frozen ice.
'I - was just - we were just... talking?" Emerick strang a few words together as he took in the blue and gold clad man fanned all over the burning room.
"Were you, now?" I asked, casually wiping the blood off Aetherius on my sleeve. Indigo reared up angrily, and I gave the reins a light flick as he calmed down, snorting and rearing. The wild beast had taken over a year to break. Even now, he threw off anyone else except for me when someone tried to mount him.
"Were you just talking as your men went outside and bore the brunt of steel and blood for you?" I asked, and one of the men gave a stifled laugh, silencing quickly with a glare from me.
"We were discussing battle strategies, your Grace," Favian smoothly cut off Emerick.
"Fat lot of good your strategies will do after the battle is over, I'm sure," I said, as Justaline gave him a simpering smile. "What, according to your strategies, happens now?"
"I - just -"
"I do wonder, Emerick," I said sternly, as my voice filled the dead ringing silence. "How do you get your men to fight for you, even when you never fight for them?"
The man in question seemed to have lost his wits, the green eyes coolly observing me as they tried to think. They were trapped. Completely.
"He's good," Favian spoke suddenly, pointing at me. "Very, very good."
"Flattery will only get you so far as the dungeons of Stormholt, Rotavelle," I snapped as he gave me a filthy glare.
"Do I look like a woman suited for dungeons?" Justaline hissed, drawing herself up from the bathtub. Her clothes were sopping wet. She had no idea how comical she looked.
"Do I look like a man who cares?" I asked coolly. She said nothing, only uncoiled herself from around Emerick and stood up on her two feet finally.
"Won't you welcome me to your new home, Emerick?" my voice rang out loud in the large hall
"I -" he knelt down on one knee. "Your arrival honours the fair city, your Grace."
"An honor I expected matched by a greeting at your fair city's gates," I said dryly, not beckoning him up.
"Apologies - I had thought-" he wondered, getting up of his own accord as a tinge of annoyance ran through me.
"Move past it, Rotavelle," Eric spat from the corner, where he, Edwina, Amphitrite, Vanessa and Verona were standing, hidden from prying eyes. He was watching the flames growing even closer, looking at the cracked pillars, the ash strewn floors and Justaline and her burnt hair. "My ears burn with reports of... lawlessness since I last visited," he hissed.
"You took a Fortress that didn't even belong to you, and then you have the fucking audacity to lure me to death by trapping my sister?" Edwina asked vehemently, eyes glowing like hot coals. "You wait... you just wait," she glared, moving to the Rotavelles with her knife in hand.
The rest of the hall had been watching the exchange with hushed whispers, the sounds slowly rising to a crescendo.
Edwina was concentrating on the heat, closing her eyes and pulling the flames back into her, reducing them to a pinprick of heat. At the same time, Eric let huge waves of water crash over the hall. What was left now was a charred ruin, black and swirling with sooty flames.
Cheerful whispers were slowly growing louder as Eric made his way about the hall,
"We were - merely defending ourselves," Emerick explained in a pathetic attempt.
"Defending - defending yourselves?" Eric yelled, his face turning purple. "You steal the Fortress of House Emmerson, you threaten my pregnant wife, and you're - oh, you're defending yourselves?"
"What exactly happened?" I snapped. "How did those rats get into the Fortress, Rosalva?" I asked, beckoning over the honey blonde voluptuous goddess who was cowering near a pillar.
"And how come the Lord of the Fortress wasn't here to defend his own home?" Edwina hissed. "Where is your husband, Rosalva? Where is Vivian?" she asked, taking the frightened goddess by the arms and firmly but angrily shaking her shoulders.
"I..." Rosalva stuttered.
"You what? Answer me!" Edwina glared at her, her gaze more caustic than acid.
"I... Vivian went on a hunt, taking our children with him too..." the goddess of childbirth stammered. "Then King Eric came with his wife, asking me to examine her. And-"
"-and?" I asked sternly.
"-and... I examined her, and I concluded that the Lady Amphitrite was pregnant..." she stuttered.
"And?" Eric pressed. "Go on, would you mind telling the High King how you betrayed us? How you let those rats in and let them take us?" he fumed.
"Quiet, LeVane," I shushed him. "You aren't helping."
"Thank - thank you, King Tristan," Rosalva wept, nearly on the verge of breaking down. "I - after I examined Lady Amphitrite, one of my men came to tell me that Emerick was at the gates. I left to attend to him. He threatened to take the Castle and kill the occupants if I did not let him in and... there was no one to defend us," she cried. "So I had to let him in."
"Knowing that you were betraying us in the process?" shouted Eric.
"Pl - please... that was never my intention," Rosalva continued softly, wiping her tears. "He threatened to kill my husband and children when they came back!"
"You-"
"-she is not the accused one here, Eric," I observed. "The ones that ought to be punished are the Rotavelles. For attacking a Fortress that was not theirs to attack, and for imprisoning five gods."
"I agree," Edwina seethed, and my eyes widened, staring at her lovely form in wonder. It was the first time we both had agreed on something.
"Get them out of my sight. I'll deal with them later," Eric snarled, beckoning to Philip. I nodded to him as he began to drag the now fully surrounded and bound Rotavelles out of the hall.
"Tend to their wounds first, then show them to the very dungeons where they kept the prisoners," I added quietly, meeting his gaze. Philip gulped and nodded as he was dragging Justaline out of the hall, kicking and squealing the whole time. It was taking five men to restrain the barking Emerick, just like Favian and Elias.
"Go and fetch Vivian Emmerson," Edwina snapped at the men. "His hunt can wait. I want a word with him to let him explain the meaning of this mess."
"I fear it will take them more than one to regain your favor, your Grace," a guard smiled cordially, winking at Eric's furious gaze.
"I DO NOT CARE!" Eric stormed. "GET VIVIAN EMMERSON RIGHT HERE BEFORE I CHOP OFF HIS HEAD FOR THIS NEGLIGENCE!"
"Eric!" Amphitrite put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down!"
"I'm going to go and fetch that insolent idiot!" he boomed angrily, making for the door. Nearly everyone present in the hall followed him. The room began to clear as people began to move out. Warily, I made for the doors.
"Where do you think you're going, oh mighty King?" Edwina's voice snapped through the haze.
"What do you want, woman?" I turned around warily, facing her. Amidst the smoke and fire she looked heavenly, like a raging angel descended right from heaven. Pure, holy and glorious.
She cocked a perfectly styled brow and walked closer to me.
"What?" Edwina asked. "You ask me what? Why did you come here, Valmont?" she hissed bitterly.
"Why did I come here?" I snapped. "I could ask the same of you! Why," I continued, "didn't you stay where I asked you to?"
"My sister was in danger," she said defensively, her tone flaring up. "Do you have any, any idea how important Amphitrite is to me, Valmont?" Edwina asked with profound emotion in her voice. The knife in her hand cleanly snapped into two, betraying the emotion that her face was clearly hiding.
"How dare you," I whispered, taking a few more steps to her, "how even dare you say something like that?"
She frowned, biting her red lips as it took all the effort I had to stay rooted to the spot. My hands itched to grab her, pin her against the wall, and kiss the daylights out of her. At the same time, I felt like shaking her shoulders and slapping some sense into her.
"I... what are you suggesting, Valmont?" she hissed, clenching her fists, yet her eyes were transfixed straight at my lips.
"You are a hypocrite," I snapped. "How dare you judge me for still caring for my dead sister when the mere thought of someone killing your sister sends shivers down your spine?" I demanded, shaking with anger. My brain kept on getting fogged with her irresistible scent, flooding my mind with... vivid images.
"I-" Edwina began hesitantly.
"How dare you judge me for still caring for my dead sister when you never ever got over the death of your mother?"
She began to bite her lip again, her eyes defiant and glowing hot, anger unleashed freely in them.
"After your mother died, you locked yourself up in a Castle for decades, woman. You refused to speak, you refused to eat, the only thing you did was to rule and raise Amphitrite," I continued, my voice roused with my own miserable memories. "What gave you the right to judge me for mourning my dead sister when you nearly killed yourself wallowing in your own misery?"
Edwina looked at me, ice cold. Not a single word escaped her lips, still taken aback by the harshness of my words.
"Stop.... just stop, Valmont," she whispered, finally a semblance of emotion showed through the cracks and I could hear the way her voice broke a bit. "You don't know what I've been through. You have no idea how it damaged me."
I lost control and pulled her straight to me, chests colliding. I felt myself being reeled as her incredible scent overtook my senses, the first time I had ever touched her this way. She not only made me feel alive, she made me feel, awakening the powerful lust filled beast inside me. There was something about her I couldn't seem to grasp or understand, I just wanted to make her feel the emotions my head was telling me to make her feel.
"You're not the only one who's damaged," I growled in a husky voice, dripping with desire.
Edwina's eyes flashed a deep shade of blue green, responding with vigour as she pulled herself to me, looping an arm around my neck. Her touch nearly made me explode with dizzy desire. She passionately hooked her fingers on the lapels of my shirt, drawing me closer with a demanding gleam in her eyes, biting her lip again.
No, I wanted to tell her. I want to do that.
I urged myself to keep my control as she beckoned me to her, those lovely red lips pulling up in a smirk and enticing me to come and take her.
"The way you keep on hurting me, woman," I whispered, "it doesn't make you any different from the rest. You're just more of the same."
Then I bent down, wanting to press my lips to hers, but a loud boom shook from the doorway.
"Your - your Graces?" the attendant declared. "It's Lord Emmerson. He's come back from his hunt."
• • • • •
I bet you're really hating the attendant, aren't you?