P R E V I O U S L Y
"You were supposed to put me down for a nap, woman. Not a fucking coma," Tristan Valmont softly murmured through the haze.
HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.
TRISTAN
I WANTED TO CRACK MY head open with my bare hands.
It throbbed so badly.
And there was a white figure in the darkness, a figure that my throbbing eyeballs barely made out. The person was gently stroking my hair, their touch as gentle as a dove's wing - such carefulness that it filled my yearning heart with tender warmth.
Her. It was her.
I had to be dreaming.
I must be dreaming. I must still be asleep. She would have gone back to Dracnesse. She would not have set foot inside Stormholt, no. She wouldn't have taken two steps near me.
"You were supposed to put me down for a nap, woman. Not a fucking coma."
I hardly recognized my voice. It felt so hoarse. So raw and scalded, as if I'd been screaming at the top of my lungs.
Her head snapped up at once.
Relief flooded into Edwina's eyes.
Her eyes.
They were glassier than I'd ever seen, bearing such a strange sheen around the edges. As if frosted over with moisture which was forbidden from leaking out of the eyes and down her tired face. Her gaze held such ancient tiredness, as if she hadn't slept since years.
"Oh, fuck," she breathed softly to herself, keeping her face set.
In a moment, she was out of the chair she'd been slumped on, dragging her weary feet across the floor to pick up something sharp. The heat behind my eyeballs nearly blinded me just like the searing pain in my shoulder. I tried to shift but her expert hands swiftly held my head down as Edwina plopped down to the bed beside me. She was holding a knife in her hand.
Memories flashed across my vision. Another time. Another knife. The same victim - me - screaming. A body. Chains. That knife... gripped so tightly in a white fist that the veins popped through the sheer skin. That knife.
"No. No."
"I need to open the bandages," Edwina deftly held my flitting hands in place as the knife got closer to me.
"No. Uranus, no," I breathed heavily, my voice breaking into crumbled dust. "No."
"Hush," she whispered as my heartbeats went into full meltdown, pounding and thudding so badly that I felt it'd explode out of my chest. She carefully settled herself beside me.
"That knife," I croaked. "Put it down. Please."
Our eyes met. Hers were wild and full of curious terror, mine were desperate.
She slowly put the knife down.
My hands did not stop shaking - neither did my shoulders or the relentless beating of my dead heart. Careful and slow so as to not startle me, Edwina's warm palms touched my bandaged shoulder as I let out a hiss of restraint.
She was so close - so warm. The way I'd always wanted her to touch me.
But her touch brought the injured shoulder back to my mind. Damn it - the fiber scratched and chafed my skin raw, but Edwina swatted my hands away angrily with a filthy glare.
"It itches," I complained, trying to sit up, but she made me fall back onto the sheets with a firm wave of her hand, her fingers carefully busy opening the knots of the tightly wound bandage.
"Stop squirming."
"I'm not squirming," I muttered defensively. She rolled her eyes. There were such lines under her eyes. I wanted to chase away that tiredness. To tuck her into a warm blanket and hug her tired body to sleep.
She finally managed to discard those filthy bandages, and her eyes widened at once. Despite her protests, I sat up, turning to look at the skin.
The wound was gone. Not a trace.
"Oh lord - thank goodness..." she breathed in a bare whisper to herself, then slowly slouched into a limp huddle as if wishing she could disappear.
It had been poisoned. Meant for her.
I'd thrown her back. Just as she had tried to do the same to me.
I huffed out a deep sigh and sank again into the deep pillows. My headache seemed to have only gotten worse than before. It was splitting, like a ring of fire cracking my skull. My eyes began to close even as I fought against it.
A clink of glass and her cool hand nudging my lips woke me again.
"Drink," Edwina ordered. I hardly protested as she nudged my lips open and gently made me drink the water. She'd gone colder than ice, her face blank. Her eyes were like raging storms, the hurt and the blame she put on herself clearly swirled in them.
Edwina loved to talk.
If she was silent, that meant something was clearly wrong with her.
"You seem oddly energetic today. Is it because you're plotting my murder, woman?"
The mutinous look she gave me made me flinch.
"Thank you for not killing me in my sleep," I teased, slowly propping myself up on the pillows. The pain was almost gone now.
Only a huff as she crawled into the corner of a chair, slightly rocking as her shoulders which shook with what looked like invisible sobs.
Something was very wrong.
"Hey. Come here," I said softly, tone undeniably gentle. I was so afraid I'd somehow hurt her, so afraid I'd said something wrong.
She didn't budge.
"Edwina?"
She looked up and finally met my gaze, having refused to do so since I'd woken up. Her eyes were very large and glassy, tired and numbed from the unceasing pain she was feeling inside.
"Your back," she suddenly said, her voice peaky and dry.
Not a word escaped my tightly pursed lips. How had she found out?
"There's a... there's a scar on your back," Edwina nearly stuttered, words faltering like failed friends. "Bloodstone," she spat out the word like a curse.
My eyes failed to hold her gaze any longer, now travelling to the way she was tightly gripping the handle as if her life depended on it.
"You didn't?"
"I did," she slowly hissed, rising like a rearing snake as her head slowly lifted. "Why?" she cried. "You fought with Apollo!"
"He's hurt much worse," my answer was sharp. In truth, men found it hard to even get by my blades, but my father and my fighting abilities matched to an extent. He was all brutal strength and cruel endurance, and although some part of it had passed on to me. But then, I was his blood, and whatever swam in those traitorous veins of his flowed in mine too.
"Where is he?"
"He's not coming back," I snarled. "He loses his life if he sets one foot within one mile of you."
She hid her face in her hands, for fear or joy - I couldn't tell. Her frame was wracked with guilt.
"I nearly killed him," I continued, voice merciless. Detached and cold and impassive, the way I was before meeting this woman. "And if he tries to do that to you again, I'll slaughter him with my own hands."
Rage. That was what I had felt when I'd walked into that room that day. Edwina, white with terror and curled with a knife in her hand, and his - his - filthy fingers on her skin. Madness bubbled up in me faster than ever, recalling the mere sight of him touching her.
"His powers are gone," she gulped slowly. "You can't do that. You hindered his work of governing the world as the sun god - it's against the law."
"So was his trying to rape you," I spat bitterly, furious.
"You..." Edwina murmured quietly, her voice breaking into pieces of glass, "...you - you care? About me?"
I let out a loose bark of laughter.
Care? I nearly spoke out loud. How am I supposed to tell you that I get so damn speechless when I try to talk to you? Being around you makes me so nervous I can barely speak. When you smile, my heart literally heart stops. Don't even get me started on your laughter. Your laughter is the most beautiful sound in the world.
Yes, I wanted to tell her. Yes. I do care about you. Sometimes I care so much that I forget to show you.
And yet, all that left my lips was, "what makes you think I care?"
And then I watched the light leave her sad eyes, and I cursed myself for doing this to her.
"How often... do you get those nightmares?" she whispered, suddenly changing the topic.
I stared at her, confused and shell shocked. Surprise colored my pale face as I felt emotion rush into me. She knew, did she? Had she found out what I'd been hiding?
Had she figured it out?
"Every single night," I answered carefully, looking at her to discern if she gave any sign of knowing what I'd done.
"You - you were screaming -" Edwina shook again, trembling violently. "You were screaming. You were asking for her - for her. Elodie."
Oh god. No, no she couldn't know.
"It was... it was terrible - I couldn't look," she continued. Her hair fell over her shoulders like a veil of misery. "I've never ever seen a person in so much pain."
"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I - I usually don't - that's why I can't fall asleep... I'm too scared to let someone see what you saw."
My voice cracked at the end, hoarse and desperate.
"Edwina," I said quietly. "Please. Come here. Come to me."
She slowly got up and pattered over the carpet, her footsteps like muffled thuds. I eagerly made some space for her as she climbed onto the mattress and held out her arms for me.
"Valmont," she murmured. "Tell me. Show me. Show me the worst you can be."
"Absolutely not."
"You're damaged. You need help. Let me help, please," she urged.
"No."
"Tristan."
"No. We're not talking about that," I refused, and my voice began to curl into a low hiss as she snapped up, her eyes shining with fire.
"You - you obstinate fool! Why did you jump in front of the arrow?" she demanded.
Because it would have taken you. Most likely killed you.
"I didn't jump in front of the arrow!" I gritted my teeth.
"Liar," she laughed bitterly.
"See-"
"I don't want to see anything, Valmont!" Edwina said, getting up from her chair. "I am your enemy. I am a Tremayne. Just - just whatever you are doing - stop it. Stop it. I am not worth it. My father killed your sister-"
No, I almost spoke out.
"-I'm not the sort of person you should waste your time on - waste your life on," she continued angrily. "I'm not good. I'm vile. I'm evil. I'm-"
I clamped my hand over her mouth, stopping her mid sentence.
"If you ever," I fiercely growled into her ear, "if you ever talk about yourself that way again, you will answer to me, lady."
The way she cursed herself stabbed a thousand blades into my heart.
"You've been a shipwrecked tragedy since the day you wore that crown. Stop being a shipwreck, do you hear me? Stop running. Stop blaming yourself," I hissed softly, my voice a dulcet caress.
Then I lifted my hand from over her lips and for the first time, I saw moisture glitter faintly at the corners of her eyes.
"Your sword," I continued, "where is your sword?"
"Destroyed," Edwina trembled again.
Destroyed.
Her father had given her Seraphine. She'd used it for centuries. And it was just...
...gone.
"Just like I should have been destroyed," she breathed, her voice now catching in the last word as it did before breaking down.
She got up and bolted for the door.
"Edwina!"
"What?" she hissed.
"Are you going back?"
Another pause as her tired eyes swept the room and finally landed on me.
"You stubborn git," she said, "if I go back, who is going to patch you up the next time you decide to get yourself in trouble?"
• • • • •
EDWINA
Back off, lady, I have a wife.
He said that in his sleep.
The sort of man who would say that even when half dazed and loaded with poison would never leave his wife.
Guilt. I was feeling guilt. Remorse.
What makes you think I care? he'd asked.
I'd been scared to death. Seeing him so helpless and in so much suffering had broken into my defenses.
I thought of the hundred moments we'd spent together, him snapping as I faltered, my left hand unable to swing the sword, him tying my hand, him giving me those tricked flowers every time he saw me.
And in my heart, I knew. I knew that I'd have taken a hundred - no, thousand - such flowers if it would have woken him up.
My body refused to listen to me anymore. It answered to his instincts.
He took the arrow for me.
It should have been me, passed out and dead cold, poisoned and shot. It should have been me. Not him. Every time I fell in trouble, every time I started a fight, he would come finish it up. He fell in danger because of me. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let others get hurt.
Most of all, I couldn't hurt him.
I pushed open the door, blinking back the tears, and the crowd waiting outside for any news nearly threw me back and tripped me over.
"Please," my aunt Celinette wept at my shoulder. "Is there any change? Is he-"
"-he's awake and asking for you, Lady Valmont," I said numbly, not meeting her eyes. I wished I could just disappear without all these formalities. To leave the guilt behind me.
"What?" she cried, "my son? He is alright?" she pulled me down, enveloping me in a bone crushing hug as I stared lifelessly into the distance. "Oh, Edwina, I don't know how to thank you," she cried, plastering kisses over my cheeks, tears of gratitude staining the skin.
"I didn't do anything."
"You did everything," said Llewellyn from beside me, a smile shining in his unreadable grey eyes as I averted my gaze with shame. He gripped me in a hug and wrapped his hands around me. "Thank you," he murmured into my ear.
And when he pulled back, I knew there were tears in his eyes.
"Thank you, but I really have... some work to attend to," I said, detached.
"Of course," he chuckled, finally sprinting into the room as Celinette followed him, giving me a parting wave.
I walked with my hands in my pockets.
I heard murmured thank you's every few steps, but I walked on, in my torn dress. I heard people come after me.
But I never turned.
I had to find Celestina and thank her.
• • • • •
I couldn't destroy the wretched object.
The cube was about the size of my palm. Each face was divided into thirty six equal squares - six by six on every edge. The squares were red, dark blue, light blue, green, purple, white.
Each was the main colour of one of the House flags.
What symbolism did it bear?
The metallic object shimmered prettily, and I shot another tongue of flame at it. No effect. I gathered my strength, using all my might, and shot again. Everything in the vicinity burned up and died.
The cube, however... remained unscathed.
It seemed to repel the flames directly. The fire did not even touch the edges of the cube. What was this cursed thing? I took my knife of Ekrite, holding the object tightly, bringing down the blade. No effect. It did not pry open a single crack. I tried again, harder. No effect. Hmmm...
I didn't even have a sword now.
I picked up the cube, then crashed it on the marble floor. The tile cracked. The cube did not show as much as a scratch.
Damn.
"You wicked thing," I muttered, crashing it again. If I continued any further, I would be making a racket. I lifted it to my eyes, looking closely.
Neither Tristan, Eric, Helios nor Nyx had been able to break it.
The edges were perfect, sharp pointed and metallic. It had the gleam of fresh forged steel from a burning furnace when Aidon was done fooling around. The colors were vivid. Gleaming, and vivid, and so pretty that I wished I could just take them and pour them onto my paintings. It sat there, innocently, as I wrecked it again, using enough force to burn a whole city to the ground.
Nothing happened.
"Don't be so stubborn," I huffed, trying to wrench it apart. It was a true conundrum. So bloody frustrating.
If we couldn't destroy this piece, there would always be a threat of the Logogram being completed. Meaning there would always be a threat that the Titans could come back. We had to destroy this. I had to destroy this for the safety and protection of my country.
I threw it at the wall. It bounced back, like an elastic collision, sitting there, leering at me. Squares arranged in seemingly random pattern of six different colours, over six faces.
Maybe I'd just do this after some time. Or maybe...
...I could just chuck it out of the window and hope it destroyed itself.
I opened the window, the air blowing coolly in the grey sky. The lake was just below. There were ripples on its surface, as if someone had been skipping stones across it. I wondered who it was.
I flung the cube into the lake, watching as it sank, disappearing from view.
• • • • •
I was pouring out a goblet of sangria as I collided with someone, looking up into misty green eyes.
"Hello, your Grace," Celestina said, looking at me with a sad smile. She looked a bit less frightened now, but perhaps it was the liquid that gave her strength.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For - everything. For the cure." My hands gripped the bottle as I poured her a glass.
"It's alright. It's what sisters are for, right?"
"Of course," I smiled gratefully, handing her the glass as she pushed it back to me.
"You need this more than I do, love," Celestina said amicably. "You look like you need a drink or two-"
"-or ten," I corrected, taking a deep sip, and she laughed, primroses sprouting from her fingers. I looked at the dusk colour of the beautiful flowers, and she plucked one and gave it to me. I inhaled the rich scent, sighing.
"Are you alright?" she asked quietly. "You seem shaken."
"Never been better," I sighed.
• • • • •
I spent the rest of the day gathering things back to Stormholt and going about my work. Often, I'd pause in the middle of my steps when I felt the ghost of Tristan's voice calling to me, tugging at my heart. Heartlessly, I dragged my feet back to a cold dinner at Dracnesse and finally came back to Stormholt at night.
The handmaiden, Ava, combed out the tangles in my hair so that it returned to its natural luster. She'd made me sit in a tub of hot water for an hour to wash the grime out from the death wedding. I sullenly donned a silk petticoat for the night.
Even if I slept on the couch, I knew he'd pick me up and get me on the bed once I'd fallen asleep.
Best to spare us both trouble by just sleeping on the damn bed.
'I can't sleep,' he'd said. Why, I wondered.
I was up till I saw the clock chime twelve. Then one. Then two. He didn't come up to our room. The Castle fell silent as everyone went to bed, slowly.
Sadly, I turned up the covers to the bed and sunk myself into the welcome warmth of the mattress. I was so close to breaking into tears and I didn't even know why. The sadness resided in me like a sleeping monster.
I got up to get a glass of water from the bedside table.
A horrified gasp burst from my lips as I uncovered the pitcher.
There was no water in it.
There was only the cube.
• • • • •
I bet you didn't see that coming. There is the fact that the cube can't be destroyed - and you can't get rid of it either. Edwina threw it away and the demonic force brought it back to her. That's creepy asf. ♡