Chapter 17 Eveera
Eveera
I hate how glad he looks at my pinning him up against the wall.
Despite the fact that he's aware these restraints could become blades the minute I will them to be.
I could turn him into nothing more than pulp, and he's thrilled.
I can sense a bead of fear coursing through him, but fuck, I swear the intention behind that is the fear that I'll let go of him — not that I'll end his life.
And right now, I most certainly could.
When I finally came to after Marjorie freed me of the bloody mage shackles, I could feel the strong sense that something was off inside my court.
Then I found out I had been married off.
I thought the feeling would wear off after that news was discovered, sure that that was the “wrong” I’d felt.
But it didn't. Thankfully, my staff is nosey, and not a single person around here can keep their damn mouth shut.
Thus leading me to the dungeons and to her.
Pruella — bloody fucking heir to the Hadar throne, and she’d been underneath my feet for days.
In the dim glow of moonlight, I could barely make out her thin frame. She sat curled up in a ball, her body pressed tightly against the damp stone with her long red hair stuck to her sickly pale skin, whether from sweat or whatever is leaking in her cell, I didn’t know.
I'd loosed one curious tendril out to slink along her floor and cup underneath her chin. The princess tried to jerk against the feather-light touch, but she was unsuccessful against my Wield, and I forced her chin to look my direction.
"Well… aren't you certainly unexpected, hmm?" I asked, a grin curling up my face as she gazed at me with her hollow eyes. She'd shuddered against my touch, the scent of her fear overwhelmingly… delicious.
But when I stand here holding Rorin in a significantly more dangerous position, I don't get fear… I get thrill or excitement. And dammit, but when he shudders, it is painfully obvious that it has nothing to do with being unnerved and all to do with…
"You're a bastard, you know that?" I snap, my teeth clacking together.
He shrugs as best he can underneath my Wield before saying, "what did I do this time?"
Everything, I want to bark at him, but I knew if I did, we'd be standing here five minutes longer than I wanted to. "Give me one good reason not to slit your throat and your wrists here."
"You'll miss me too much." He grinds out, my tendrils tightening again, like a serpent coiling around its prey.
"Mm, trying again, princeling. My patience is waning at a rapid pace."
He snorts out a laugh through his nose, "I give up." He admits, tone casual.
ARGH! BASTARD! "How could you bring it into my territory?
" Rorin tilts his head, confused as he tries to put together what information I'm demanding.
I heave out a long sigh, "how could you bring her into my territory?
" His smirk melts off his face."Not feeling so smug now, are we?
" I bark into his mind, his pupils dilating at the sudden intrusion.
"Who told you?" He grits out.
I cock my head to the right, a cynical laugh escaping my lips as I pull my Wield back. His knees instantly give, a hand throwing out a hand to stabilize himself against the wall before he ends up on the floor. He rubs at the red mark already blooming across his throat, while I dust my hands off.
“The better question would be, why didn’t you tell me?” Rorin looks up at me from his prone position. His hair, now cropped, no longer hangs in front of those piercing hazel eyes, allowing me to see every emotion that flickers through his face. And right now? Right now, he looks guilty.
I step away from him and stride over to the passageway door.
“Eveera.” He calls, and I tilt my head over my shoulder.
“Are you coming? Or are you no longer desperate to spend time alone with me?” He gives me a pained look and falls into step behind me.
The dungeons were a far cry from spacious, so I had the princess moved up to my Room.
Her fear permeated the air of the passageways the closer we got to the exit, and a chill ran down my spine.
"Eveera," Rorin warns as he takes in the sight of the princess sitting in the center of the room.
"Buh buh buh." I chide, cutting off his argument. My nails find the spot I’d scratched raw earlier, my Wield writhing underneath the thin layer of skin. "I want to know how you managed to put me in this position — put my kingdom in this position."
He lets out a resigned sigh, his heavy footsteps echoing with his strides toward me. He sidles up to my left, bowing his head to my ear, "I didn't have a choice."
I angle my chin up, looking at him through my thick lashes, "you did, and you made it. But it was the wrong choice. Because now, you see, I am put in the most uncomfortable spot of having to make a different choice."
"And what would that be, Nightmare?" He whispers, his words pouring over me like salt on an open wound.
I grind my teeth together and snap my head back to the princess, "it’s simple.
She’s a threat, and she must be put down, just as all the ones who’ve come before her.
” The princess whimpers, and I turn sharply on my toe.
His hand snaps out, wrapping around my bicep, and halting my pursuit towards the weapons table. “Let go of me.” I grit.
"We can't kill her yet." Rorin hisses.
"YET?!" Pruella sputters loudly, and I release a tendril, fastening it tightly around her chapped lips before staring back at him. His eyes are soft, that sad look returning to them.
"I can, but try and tell me again that I can't do something in my own home." I snap.
"Eveera, she's our leverage. We can't." I let out a strangled laugh, his grip growing lighter, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of my arm.
"Is she now? Will you force her into a marriage next, then?"
His brows crinkle together, "what?"
"I was your leverage the last time we were together, remember? And now look at us."
Rorin’s eyes flash with hurt, and a cruel grin spreads across his cheeks. He drops my arm like I've burned him, both hands forming fists at his sides."Let her go, Eveera. We have more important matters to deal with than your need for play."
I turn back to the stricken princess and drop the tendril from her mouth.
She gasps in a few obnoxious breaths while I walk around her, unlocking the leather straps binding her wrists and ankles.
When they fall, she sucks in a deep breath, her body falling off the stool a nd onto the floor.
"Up," I demand, and she looks upwards at me.
For the first time, I see a new emotion on her face other than devotion or terror.
This time, I see hate.
I pull her up by her collar and shove her forward. "Where are you taking me now?" She squeaks out, her voice trying pitifully to sound confident.
"We have dinner."
“Millicent.” She hums in response, too busy plaiting her blonde hair loosely down her back, to look up right away at the sound of my voice.
“Millieeeee.” I sing out, her green eyes finally lifting.
Her head snaps around when she realizes it’s not just me – but the princess and me reflecting in her mirror.
Her head whips around, mouth opening and closing several times as I run her through my plan, and why that plan includes who I’ve brought to her.
“I– uhm…” Millie sputters, pushing up from the bench so fast that it topples over. “Sorry,”
“Sorry for?”
Flustered, she steps over the bench, “sorry to the bench.”
I roll my lips together, smothering my snort, “you’re apologizing to the bench?”
Millie whines at me, jerking her hands towards the girl in the grip of my tendrils. “Forget about the bench! This is insane.”
I sit into my hip, and use my tendril to push Pruella forward. She stumbles at the force of my magic, placing herself between Millie and me. “Just… fix… this.”
“I— mm.” She starts, circling us until she’s shoulder to shoulder with me, where we stare with a mixture of disgust and disdain. Pruella’s hair is matted against her scalp, the pale hue of her skin appears sickly, and she keeps her shoulders turned in, pronouncing the shape of her spine.
“Must you two stare at me like I’m some animal?” She hisses, her voice like nails on stone.
“Oh, so she does speak. Pity I was so worried you’d gone mute.
” I droll, my eyes rolling back. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be staring at you at all.
But, Rorin has decided we’re all playing house.
” Millie quietly mouths an ‘ah’, the understanding coming together quickly. “I wouldn’t usually ask but—“
She raises her hand to me, cutting my sentence short. “I’ll fix it.”
I nod, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before leaving the two of them be.
The door clicks shut and loudly echoes in the otherwise empty hallway.
My head drops gently against the wood as I take in a deep and shaky breath.
Her room is at the end of my hall, and from here I can see the alcove where Max and Orem’s room is.
A twinge twists in my chest when I pass it, heading for my room.
We still haven’t spoken since we returned, neither of us knowing what to say.
In fact, I’d hardly seen anything of Armond either, now that he’s taken on more with Matthis in my absence.
He waited outside my doors until I woke up, but as soon as I was conscious again, he disappeared back to the barracks for training.
That decision led to my two new squires. My two infantile squires. “Boys,” I say loudly, their fear hitting me staunchly. They're drowning in their armor, the metal clanking loudly as they scramble to dip their chins.
The one now taking Axel’s post hobbles over in an effort to grab the handle, but I make it there first and lean in to the quivering soldier. "Merrit," His brown eyes dart up, "get this fitted. You're very noisy." I tap the top of his helmet, and his visor clatters closed.
"She knows your name?!" The other squire squeals, his panicked voice amplified by the helmet surrounding his head.
A smile twitches at the corner of my mouth while I click the doors shut and press my mouth to the seam between the doors."I know everything, Knowles." He gasps at my voice, and I laugh, hearing their armored bodies clamor back to their designated spots.
I trudge forward and collapse on top of my bed, the plushness of it puffing up around me. I breathe in the blankets, and the faint smell of Rorin accosts my senses.
Rolling over, I huff and stare at the billowing fabric of my canopy.
"It's decided. This is all his fault." I say to the ceiling, I'd been living so comfortably and quietly before him.
My hand flies out, and I grab onto a pillow, slamming it down over my face.
The scream of sheer frustration that tears its way out of my throat is muffled by fabric and feathers, probably best considering the men outside?
The ones who are meant to keep me safe? They look to be about twelve.
I lay there a minute longer, the heat of my breath becoming suffocating, before I lifted the pillow off my face and scraped myself off the mattress. “Dinner. Getting ready for dinner and people.” I sneer, strolling into the bathroom.
Someone thought it would be a good idea for the council to have dinner. That someone was the ever level-headed Felix.
I resent him for it.
There are only a few things I hate so much that I actively and routinely avoid them.
One of those is having any sort of meals with my council members.
While some of them aren't too bad, most of them are stuffy aristocrats whose patience for me exists purely on their love for my parents.
But the more time passes, the more their love wanes.
Apparently, everyone is forgettable — even their noble and selfless sovereigns.
My fingers thump across the tabletop as I wait for everyone to settle down, and I feel the soft brush of fingers smooth down the back of my hair.
I pitch my chin up to see Felix smiling at me, sliding down into the chair adjacent to me. Armond and Felix are the first, both of them walking over to me. “Why are you sitting over there?" I ask, my eyes bouncing over to the chair directly beside me.
"That's no longer the place for me." He says quietly while everyone finds their spots.
Max, Bennett, and Mousy are the last three to file in, looking stiff and uncomfortable. That makes all four of us. I grumble inside my head. Looking through each of the chattering patrons, I notice one distinct face missing.
“Where–”
"Eveera." His gruff voice interrupts, the buzzing conversation coming to a halt as he marches his way to the empty seat.
I angle my head and give him a forced smile. "Parasite." He doesn’t acknowledge the jab, his eyes landing on the still-empty seats. I can see he wants to ask who they’re for, but I wave at the staff to begin our dinner, and count the seconds until I see Millie.
She turns into the room, Pruella on her heels, the clatter of a few utensils hitting their plates mixes with the conversation, a wave of satisfaction rolling through me at the disruption.
"What are you playing at, Nightmare?" Rorin hisses from my right, not being in the least bit discreet.
I shrug and stab a potato, shoving it into my mouth.
I take my sweet time chewing, tampering with his patience as he does mine.
Scooping up my goblet, I clink it against his untouched glass and lift it to my lips.
The acrid liquid burns down my throat, and I peer at him from over the rim.
"Oh, I'm not playing at anything, dear. See, if you recall earlier, you said we have more important things to tend to than my need for play.
And well, as you can see, the state that she was in was hardly diplomatic of me.
" I toss him a saccharine grin and stab another potato.
When we return our attentions to the collective council members, they’re all staring at us, their faces a mixture of shock and confusion. Including Felix, who I now have confirmation, based on his stricken look, that he too had no idea the princess was in our cells.
I pat his hand, "remember to breathe, Felix." I lift my brows at the noblemen and women, and shovel another piece of food into my mouth. "Don't ask me—" I tell them between bites, stabbing the prongs of my fork at their newest sovereign, "ask him."