West found Sasha in her villa three days later, his face filled with outrage.
"You said you will only be here for a day," he told her as he stormed into her parlor while she was writing a letter.
"I had matters to attend to," Sasha said, turning her head to face him.
West frowned. She looked different, guarded.
Then she smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
She stood and kissed him. "I missed you. How did it go with Willoghby?"
West blinked and sighed. "The bastard is not talking," he informed her. "It seems he enjoys the torture."
Her brows cocked high. "Torture, really?"
He looked over his shoulder and reached for her hand. "Finish what you have to do. I want you home."
Her weak smile caused him alarm. "West, will I still be your Belle?"
His brows fused. "You will be my wife."
She smiled and turned away.
Turning away from the conversation and him. West always knew what he needed to do, but with Sasha, he always found himself lost.
He watched her gather the letter and ring for Iyana who arrived fast.
"Please send this to Belcourt, Iyana."
Iyana nodded, gave West a quick bow. "The gratitude of the household is overdue, but we still desire to thank you for saving her life, sir. We owe you ours."
West did not reply and simply watched Iyana exit the room.
"I wish to go home to Everleigh," Sasha said behind him.
Home and Everleigh were the two words he only wanted to come out of Sasha's lips, but a nagging feeling was telling him not to be swayed.
He faced her. "Why?"
She grinned, her eyes glistening. "I wish to see the meadow. I am certain the flowers are in full bloom by now."
Something was not right. "Sasha, are you quite all right?"
She nodded. "Yes. I am... I simply have a hard time trying to understand everything."
His jaw tightened and he nodded. He had spent the last few days planning and she could have been doing the same.
Something happened while she was in the Palace and he could only assume the worst.
And while at the carriage, West could not help but think that he might be losing her.
She seemed distant as she looked out the window, pretending to enjoy the country landscape.
He had time, he thought. She would not disappear like his mother did because she was different.
In time, they should trust each other.
A soft rain poured before they reached Everleigh. West followed Sasha up to his bedchamber where she immediately discarded her pelisse. Clad in her light blue muslin dress, she went to the window.
West followed, wrapping his arm around her from behind as he nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent. "Tell me what is wrong."
He felt her shook her head. "Nothing is wrong, West. As I have said, I had much to understand, but I believe I understand them now."
He took a sidestep, turning her with him until he was leaning against the windowsill and she turned to face him, her palms resting on his chest as she gazed at him with searching eyes. And there was also something there.
Was it longing?
He could almost feel the dread looming over. He narrowed his eyes. "You look at me as though you are about to say goodbye, Sasha."
"You are too selfish, are you not, West?" she asked, her voice filled with meaning. "With many things."
"Only around those I care about," he replied truthfully. He gently kissed her, resting his forehead against hers. He did not feel the need to make love to her now. He just wanted to savor her this way, here with him. Now.
How could he ever ask her to leave Belcourt? But then, how could he when both of them were keeping secrets? How could he when he was determined to destroy the only home she had ever known?
She brought her hand up and interlocked her fingers at his nape. Then she tilted her head and kissed him, her mouth growing insistent and hungry as he answered the kiss.
He moaned in protest, wanting to delay the moment to go to bed, but she pressed between his legs and whimpered against his mouth.
"Love me," she choked, voice desperate and needy, her fingers unbuttoning his shirt.
West undressed her there by the window, the sound of rain gently tapping against the glass, the light of the midday sun shining through the dark clouds streaming over her naked form.
They took their time to reach the bed, leaving a trail of clothes along their path. He worshiped her with his mouth, trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, the side of her waist, and the scar that would forever remind him of the night he nearly lost her.
Wrapping his arms around her, West held her tight. And as their bodies joined, he realized that he was experiencing a vivid moment, one he wanted for the rest of his life.
He felt a lump in his throat as he moved with her. His eyes were open, watching her flushed face and her parted lips as she panted, softly calling his name.
Swallowing hard he kissed her nose and her eye. He tasted salty tears and he muffled a sob in the crook of her neck, his hands digging into her skin. She was wonderful.
He felt wonderful.
Yet he also felt doomed.
*****
That afternoon, the rain was over, leaving naught but the fresh smell of grass and dew.
It was the perfect time for a walk.
"Do you remember our hike at the Sailor Garden?" he asked. "You were wearing the same hat."
From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head to look at her.
He could sense it, she thought with certainty.
She had bought them enough time, she thought as she stopped in her tracks to look around the meadow. The trees were lush and green, hiding its little secrets behind its leaves as they chirped their afternoon songs. The grasses were damp, droplets of rain dangling at their tips. Various flowers thriving together in one large bed of soil, so carefree and wild, bold and fearless after the light rain and until the next season.
How different from how humans lived, how so natural and free.
"You have to tell me what it is, Sasha," West's gentle voice said behind her as she continued to aimlessly walk into the meadow.
Sasha stopped and closed her eyes.
For days, she had done naught but think until she grew tired of it.
Slowly, she turned and faced him.
He looked magnificent and her eyes filled with tears again.
"I went to the Royal Theater."
For the first time, she saw something in his eyes change. Anger, she was familiar with. Tenderness, yes. But this one was different for she could not tell what it was. He just suddenly... shut off.
The empty look in his eyes was unnerving, not what she had expected for she expected rage.
"I told you not to trust me fully, did I not?" she added, fighting the tears in her eyes.
West's light blue eyes never wavered as he flatly said, "I was wondering when you will figure out, but now it is clear what your trip to Belcourt was all about."
At his words, at the callous way he said it, her tears fell. "You are working against the kingdom."
His jaw clenched. "All I can say, Sasha, is that I am loyal to the true king of this kingdom."
Sasha fought the whimper that escaped her lips. She fought the shaking of her shoulders by clutching her skirts with her fists. "Then you are like your father after all."
His face was completely unreadable, telling her that he knew this was coming and he was prepared. "No, I am never going to be like him. He died a damaged man, but he passed a silent hero. It was his fault, but I do not intend to follow his path."
Sasha shivered at his words. "Why? Because he fell in love with a traitor?"
His jaw tightened. "My mother did many horrible things against the previous monarchy, Sasha, but that is all I am willing to say for it is clear you have made a choice."
She slowly nodded, accepting. With a bitter scoff, she looked around the meadow, their beauty no longer potent as the truth of what she had to do dawned on her. Closing her eyes slowly, she felt the warm tears roll down her face.
Lifting her lids, she searched for his face. "It is a shame. I would have loved to see this place in the fall."
He remained quiet, his eyes impassive. He was stiff as stone and at that moment, Sasha would have wanted him to be enraged. But he was not. He was accepting everything.
She inhaled deeply and swallowed and a small whimper escaped her lips as she let out a shaky breath. Her heart was being crushed, clenched dry as she was forced to maintain a strong resolve. "Your club will be raided tonight." Good God, how could he maintain such a blank face, Sasha thought. "I am telling you this because I want to play a fair game. You saved my life and we are now even. It is my parting gift." She paused, searching his eyes. Nothing. There was nothing there. "Know that I do not blame you for keeping your secrets. Our worlds molded us to be loyal first and foremost. Emotions are rendered useless in our worlds, are they not?" she asked, tasting the bitter taste at the back of her throat. "It is merely a shame we have been loyal to two opposing forces."
Finally, he spoke and it was a question. "Is that what you intend to do then, Sasha? Play at the opposing side?"
She squared her shoulders and finally spoke her decision in the only words she could summon. "I intend to win and like our many little games, West, you are going to lose again."
*****
Things happened fast.
For West, it was too fast he could no longer remember what happened before the other.
But one thing was for certain: she had planned it all.
She wrote Belcourt the letter before inviting herself to Everleigh.
A carriage arrived with Gabrielle behind the reins and now, he was staring blankly at the back of her carriage driving away from him.
Before she climbed into her carriage earlier, she walked up to him, her eyes strong and determined. "Your membership into Belcourt is now revoked. After this day begins the last game we will have to play. Both of us are sore losers but may the best player win." And then she raised to her toes and planted a soft kiss on his lips. "It was nice to be your first and last Belle, West Blackwood."
A strong hand was clenching at his chest. It was not too painful that he was rendered incapable of other things, but he knew that it was the kind of mellow pain that would pester, one that would remind him of her in every waking moment. Perhaps he could live with that for a long time. He had to, he thought, for he had to go on and play a part in a bigger game.
And he had to be ready for Sasha did not intend to be the pawn anymore. He respected her for it, proud of her for it. But her choice was different, forcing him to play a game that had the potential of destroying them both.
As her carriage disappeared at the end of the road, West stiffly turned and walked back into his empty estate.
He walked up the grand staircase and back into his bedchamber.
She had taken everything she owned with her, leaving him nothing.
Face hard, he slammed the door behind him.
And then he scoffed.
A game between Belcourt and the Royal Circus was about to start.
And it shall be a long one.