Chapter 30 Eveera #2
I lead the two of us out of the castle through the passageways, snapping for her to keep up with me as she trips over every loose rock her feet can find. Her balance got no better the moment we were outside, and as we approached the woods, I worried I might have to drag her the rest of the way.
"I thought you'd have wanted an audience when you brought me out to my death," Pruella calls out.
"Why does everyone think I intend to kill them today?"
"Your reputation precedes you, your Majesty." She snaps.
A smirk crept its way across my face at the comment I know wasn't meant as a compliment — yet I'll take it that way anyway. "Stop fussing, I didn't bring you out here to die, princess.”
My pace starts to slow as we come up onto the clearing, the princess nearly colliding into my back when I stop.
I turn my head slowly, angling my chin to look up at her.
Her usually worried face is twisted into a look of frightened confusion as I level my gaze and press my fingertips to her shoulder, pushing her backwards.
"I came out here to show you something."
"Show me something?"
I bob my head, threading my fingers through my hair and twisting it into a braid, out of my face. With that taken care of, I pull on my Wield and allow the magic to take over.
After weeks of Ezra's tampering, the power feels that much more intense, almost as if it's become an entirely new entity separate from me. I suck in a breath, and on the exhale, tendrils pour out — splitting off into several different directions through the trees.
Pruella fidgets in her place, the scent of her fear filling the space of the clearing and my head. "A-hem. I've seen your magic already." She claims loudly, doing her best to sound confident and unafraid — pity I know that she's the opposite.
"You've seen parts, Princess — not all," I say, my fists closing as I yank down on the tendrils.
They pull back, each of them dragging a tightly bound creature.
Her face goes white as she sees the decomposing monsters gnash their teeth, fighting against the magic.
"Halt," I command, each of the beasts going still in their place as I unwrap them.
"What is this?" She asks, shakily, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Apparently, this is a byproduct of me — my Wield." Her head whips in my direction. "And this is what will happen to you if you do not cooperate."
Pruella's ruby lips part as she looks between me and the creatures. "You can do that?"
"Oh, I can do far worse than these, my dear," I taunt, slicing through the creatures with one tendril as I accost her mind with another. Her knees give, her willowy frame collapsing onto the ground, flailing as she tries to both mentally and physically remove me.
It doesn't take long for me to root around and find the one memory that seems to have the most visceral effect — but the memory does surprise me. The fear that comes to light is a singular image of her father, and he's staring at her with anything but the love and affection that a father should.
"P-please."
Reluctantly, I tug on the thread and pull it out, Pruella’s body falling face-first into the damp dirt. "Interesting."
She glares up at me through her lashes and spits at my feet. "What? Surprised to find I was honest about who raised me?"
"Up," I demand.
Her head tilts to her left, peering past me until she gets an eyeful of the shredded bodies littered on the ground. “But those–” she starts to mumble.
"There are more of those things, and they'll come even without me beckoning them. Now, up."
The princess wastes no more time scrambling to her feet; her exhaustion replaced with adrenaline. "Was there a point to all of this?" She shouts, her voice cracking on the question.
"Did there need to be?"
"I-I'm not a real threat to you!” My feet still, as she cries out, “I’ve never challenged you. I just wanted out, out of that–”
My brows pull tightly together, "not a threat?" I ask, getting hung up on that one little word. She huffs, catching up to where I stand, and nods. “You are the biggest threat. The longer you stay here in my court, the more likely we are to lead your father here with his army.”
“Well, you want him here anyway, don’t you? Isn’t that why I’m your bait?”
“I want him here on my terms, not his. I want him here on my agenda, not his.” Control, my conscience whispers.
I want control, but I don’t say that in so many words.
“Your living accommodations have been adjusted, but make no mistake – you’re still my prisoner.
And tonight was merely a reminder for you not to get too comfortable. ”
“I’ve lived in gilded cages before, Queen Eveera.
” She whispers, her face growing haunted, “You hardly need the demonstrations.
You're frightening enough without them. My father and King Eiser already know that — it's why he felt the need to drag Vellar into negotiations quicker than he'd planned.” She sighs, her head dropping to look back at the field of carcasses.
“I already told Rorin this, but now I'll tell you, you are more than just a bedtime story in the kingdoms without Wields. You are the biggest threat out there, not me. You came out of the woodwork, and suddenly the entire Realm trembled in fear of a faceless Queen, and… with good reason.”
I turn on my heel, not caring to listen anymore, but her final words hit my back anyway.
“Do you know how many times I wished I were you? That I could draw out the fear in my father that you have?” Her voice quivers, and I swallow the lump of emotion building in my throat.
“I certainly don’t like you, but… I don’t have to like you to envy you. ”
That didn't exactly go as I'd planned. I think sourly as I drag myself back to my room, where Rorin waits.
He’s pacing on the other side of the door — the seal wide open and allowing me to feel everything he is. Frustration, confusion, worry.
Pressing my ear to the heavy wood, I debate when I should go in there. “Your Majesty,” Merritt leans over, his voice nervous as he addresses me.
“Hmm?”
“This is the quietest he’s been in…”
“Hours,” Knowles interjects.
Merritt bobs his head up and down, “hours. I’m sure it’s safe for you to go in there.”
I smother the laugh bubbling up with a hand and look seriously between the boys. “Thank you, though I’m not too worried about my safety around here.”
“But we are,” Knowles adds, his expression equally as serious. Teenagers. I think, patting each of their shoulders, before setting my hand on the doorknob.
“You both are dismissed." Neither moves, and I sigh, putting my back to the doors, and twist. "Go. Now." The command firm as I push the doors in.
I don’t wait to see if they’ve listened, because the moment I’m in the room, Rorin whirls on me. His eyes flash with fury, and the stress I’ve caused him is evident in the lines of his face.
"What?"
His jaw drops, "what?"
"Look—" I say, spinning in my spot as my hands gesture up and down at my body, "I came back, and I'm in one piece."
"Get on the bed."
"I'm sorry?" The question sputters past my lips; his demand throwing me off. I couldn't possibly have heard that right.
Rorin's hands fly out to his sides, "bleeding gods Eveera!" his voice rising as he crosses the short distance. "For once, do what you're told and get on the fucking bed."
The heat in his eyes sends electricity through my nerves, and I slip out from underneath his arms. My feet back up slowly until the fabric of my dress hits the end of the bed.
Grabbing my skirts, I slide my ass up onto the blankets and prop myself on the edge.
"Now what?" I taunt. He rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging slightly on the cropped curls, before rushing back across the room.
A wicked smile graces my lips when I feel the sharp, cool, metal point of his dagger poised right underneath my chin. Hot breath fans across my cheeks, sending goosebumps all over my body as I whisper, "well… ?"
Rorin's head tilts slightly, and I watch the challenge light in his eyes before the sound of fabric tearing hits my ears. Stunned, I look down to see what was my gown – is now a robe. "I really liked that dress."
"I'll buy you a new one." He quips. Using the tip of his dagger, he flicks either side of the now split fabric, causing it to fall open. The only thing between us now is his clothes, and the thin slip underneath my dress covering me.
Rorin drops down to one knee, his other quickly following until he’s— "What are you doing?" The pitch in my voice rises as he grabs hold of my scantily clad body, pulling my ass an inch closer to him.
His rough palms slide over the crease of my hips and fan over the tops of my thighs. "You've tormented me enough today — I think it's only fair that it's now my turn."
My stomach dips the longer he looks up at me, gripping firmly onto my legs. "And this is your idea of torment?" Because it's working.
"Absolutely."
I gawk at the two of us and our almost position. "What if I say no?"
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes darkening, "then I'll find a different way to drive you as mad as you've driven me." A beat of silence passes between us before he fills the space with, "are you telling me no?"
I shake my head, and that's all the invitation he needs to slide his right palm over my stomach, pulling the slip up with it. "Fuck…"
"Such language over such a simple thing… and we haven't even begun yet." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of my leg, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
A breathy laugh escapes me as my head falls back. "Is this my punishment—" I gasp, as he nips at the other side, his hands traveling back to my sides until his fingers are digging mercilessly into me, "the teasing?"
He shakes his head, his hair tickling my leg. "I— ah— expected you to yell at me for disappearing without mention again or at least some kind of argument."
Rorin looks up through his lashes, a devious look painted across his face. "It will be hard to argue with my mouth full."