51 | ACT II, SCENE XXIII

P R E V I O U S L Y

A horrified gasp burst from my lips as I uncovered the pitcher.

There was no water in it.

There was only the cube.

HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.

TRISTAN

"STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC, VALMONT. What are you, twelve?" Edwina snapped as I leaned against the parapet, crossing my arms with a frown.

"On a scale of one to ten, yes," I tersely bit out.

"You," she continued with determination, "will thank Celestina. She got you the antidote. It's just two words, why in hell can't you speak them?"

"Oh, I can," I rolled my eyes. "I just don't feel particularly thankful to her."

"Shut up. Now come with me-" Edwina argued, quickly taking my hand and leading me to the hall.

"I don't want to thank Celestina!"

"You will," she growled fiercely. "I'll go back to Dracnesse if you don't thank her."

Blackmail. I looked at her, trying to hide a sullen smile and resisted the urge to kiss the daylights out of her. Such a charmer, my wife. I'd never met a more stubborn headed person.

I relented, sighing.

"Fine. I'll thank her."

As if on cue, Edwina nodded to one of the guards who opened the doors and brought the newest addition to our family in, trembling with fear.

"Your Graces," Celestina swept into a deft bow, and the silk frills on her atrocious pink gown quaked with nervousness. She stood up, and those bright green eyes shone with the overeagerness to please, disgusting me more than ever.

Edwina nudged the point of her elbow into my side, a snide smile on one corner of her lips.

"I wish to... thank you. I owe you my life," I muttered grimly, looking everywhere else except for Llewellyn's new wife. Venom was biting my tongue more harshly than insults coated in poison, but I carefully held them back.

"What - what is wrong?" Celestina asked softly, chewing her lip with increasing fright.

"What?"

"You look like..." her voice trailed off into a garble of incoherent words that disappeared into air, "...like you want to bite my face off," she whispered, cheeks reddening with shame.

"Forgive me," I hissed. "That's just the way my face works, dear cousin."

Her eyes widened even further, and the shade of her face began to match the roguish lipstick staining the corners of her mouth, and she nervously began to clutch at her hands in the sudden wake of fear. I deliberately ignored her with coolness, stepping past her towards the door as Edwina angrily began to hiss into my ear again.

"That was very rude," she chided, stomping behind me as steam blew out of my ears.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you're the politest person to exist, woman," I shot back with a sulk, opening the door into the corridor for her and closing it behind us both. "Forgive me if I can't stand her. Or don't."

"You're impossible," she muttered under her breath. "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," I growled, going down the steps to the next floor as she followed.

"Your Grace?" a little voice near my left suddenly reached my ears. I turned back to find the golden haired Miriel hiding behind a tall flowerpot that matched the lilac in her young eyes.

"Yes, child?" I asked, my tone softening as I took her in. The girl was gentle enough, staying out of the way of trouble, usually surrounded by heaps of flowers in the meadow, gamboling with a white kitten she'd found in the forest. I couldn't help but feel a sort of protectiveness for her - perhaps it was her dependence on me alone, something about the way she wholly trusted me after I'd saved her from Deimos.

"Are you - are you okay? I heard that... that someone shot you," she mumbled, wrapping her fingers around the golden tangles of her hair.

"I'm perfectly alright," I smiled at her, bending down to level with her tiny form, calmly stroking her hair. "Justaline's arrow did not fulfil its purpose."

"Oh," Miriel breathed to herself, suddenly startling as she saw me and Edwina staring at her.

Then she gathered up her skirts and ran away to the open lawns.

"Queer," Edwina frowned to herself, scratching her head as I joined her side, confused. "Who is she, though?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," I answered carefully. "She seems quiet but... a bit insane."

"She's harmless enough. God knows what sort of perilous things Deimos would have done to her if she was still in his clutches."

"Speaking of that," a voice broke into our conversation. "What are we going to do about the Rotavelles?"

We both looked up at the visitor. It was Eric, dressed in his usual light blue with his golden hair slicked back. "They tried to kill you. And killing a guest after offering them your bread and salt-" he disapprovingly clicked his tongue.

"We should put up wards," Edwina spoke instantly, emotion in her strong voice. "The Rotavelles won't be allowed to use any powers as long as the magical wards are up."

"For quite some time, I dare say," I added, peering at her.

"That's too cruel, Tristan," Eric shook his head at once. "You can't - you can't punish a whole House like that!"

"Excuse me?" Edwina screeched. "The whole House was ready to poison me. Did you know that?" she wildly shot at him, which caused him to step back a few paces, putting up his hands.

"You're not serious," he said.

"She is," I aggressively took her side. "Unless we punish the Rotavelles, this won't stop. Do you know just how many times they've tried to kill her now? Would you rather your Queen were dead?"

"Uranus, no," Eric breathed out. "All I'm saying is that we can't be so cruel. Keeping the whole of Allington under magical wards is... beastly."

"He deserves it. Emerick brought this on himself," Edwina harshly offered as I nodded.

Eric sighed.

"Fine," he muttered. "Never thought I'd live to see the day where a Valmont and Tremayne agreed on one single thing."

"Hmmm," Edwina nonchalantly purred, then tugged at my arm with a bored flick of her hands. "You were going to show me something, Valmont. I'm getting impatient," she muttered, tapping her foot on the ground. Eric raised his eyebrows so high that they disappeared under his blond hair.

"The lady desires my company," I breathed out a laugh as Eric grinned wider than a Cheshire cat.

"You better get going then," he muttered, no longer trying to hold in his laughter. I smirked at him and wrapped arms hand slowly around Edwina's slender waist as she smugly waved at Eric, who smiled back and disappeared in a whirl of light blue.

"You smell like last night's yogurt," I sniffed carefully, preening at her and pretending to look very surprised.

"There was no yogurt last night, Valmont," she mischievously smiled at me.

"The night... before that?"

"No. Try harder," Edwina threw back her head and laughed as I marveled at her delightful voice.

"Really? How hard do you like it?" I grinned, stopping and leaning against the wall, my hand trapping her in the corner. She placed her hands on my shoulders as I lifted her up and sat her on the windowsill.

"Is this going to constitute another one of our wild, frenzied make out sessions?" she purred into my ear, slowly tracing a hand across my jawline and feeling the throbbing pulse of my blood.

I lifted her chin with a demanding finger and placed a feather soft kiss on the corner of her crimson lips.

"I'm beginning to think you just like me pinning you against the walls, my darling," I silkily whispered to her as her aroused keens rang into the air.

• • • • •

EDWINA

"This," Tristan began with a wild glint in his blue eyes, "is for you," he finished, handing me a long object wrapped in blood red velvet. I carefully took it from him as he smugly regarded it. Curiously, I felt the heavy object and looked at the shimmering velvet, then at him.

"What is it?"

"Something you'll hopefully not cut off my head with," he casually laughed, running a hand through his dark, windblown hair, eyes solemn yet shining with proud excitement.

My curiosity got the better of me as I sat down, hands travelling to the golden wrappings that held the crimson velvet together. Quickly, my fingers unraveled the ribbons and rolled the long object out of the fabric, and then-

"Oh god," I breathed, amazed.

Long and handsomely strong, it glittered back at me. The sharp, precise edges wore the burnished shimmer of fresh forged metal that caught the light of the chandeliers and scattered it around the room like rainbows of cut crystal. The hilt was a dangerously seductive gold, encrusted with coronets that were the size of huge marbles.

A sword.

It was so wickedly beautiful, such a beauty I had never beheld.

"Oh god," I whispered softly, slowly picking it up and feeling my fingers close around the hilt, embracing the grasp. It was light. Lighter than my old sword, Seraphine, but twice as wicked and infinitely more dangerous. "Ekrite?" I muttered to myself, my voice full of never ending worship and awe.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly, closing his hand around mine, and my flesh felt more alive than it had ever been, united between metal and man.

"It's so beautiful," I croaked breathlessly, my voice hitched, close to a sob. "It's so, so beautiful."

"Of course," he grinned proudly, mischief lighting up his eyes. "I forged it. Of course it would be beautiful."

"Pompous brat," I muttered under my breath with a roll of my eyes and climbed on top of him, wrapping my arms around his solid chest as he hid me into a warm hug. He pressed a tender kiss on the top of my head as I pressed my body harder to his, every inch wrapping around his strong frame and wanting to mark it as my own.

To have him as my own. To shows all those women who kept on eyeing him that I hated sharing. To have him be by my side, day and night - forever and ever.

"Thank you," I breathed in Tristan's ear, my voice a sultry croon. He laughed and skimmed a white finger down my neck, and the lustful fire raging in his eyes was hotter than anything I'd ever seen or felt.

"I really didn't expect something as modest as a weapon to bring the high and mighty Queen Regnant to her knees," he purred into my throat.

His voice was a thunderous rumble that made my nerves hum and sing and burn with anticipation. My sensitive skin vibrated at his touch, at the feeling of his strong hands slowly travelling down my back. As they traveled lower and lower, I felt myself beginning to get drenched with the torturous and equally sinful way Tristan Valmont's eyes were undressing me.

He paused for a second, and a lazy grin curved up my lips as he smirked and neared my face, slowly sliding his alluring lip against mine. I wrapped an arm around his neck and slowly bit down on his soft lip, savoring his masculine scent of brushed leather and the crisp aftershave.

"I spent hours polishing that weapon. Just so you know," he delightfully murmured.

"I'd like to polish your weapon," I answered in a seductive croon, lightly smacking the tip of Tristan's nose as he began to smile like a maniac. "Talk about making me get on my knees."

"Hmm," he snidely hummed, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Will you come to me, then? Or do I have to... make you come?"

Blood rushed instantly into my cheeks as my arousal reached an even higher peak, threatening to burn me alive and make me shatter right in his arms. Our gazes locked in ferocious and ardent passion, and his eyebrow tilted ever so slightly as he delicately sniffed my arousal in the air.

I almost melted, then and there.

"Do you really expect to keep that flawless face of yours if you don't shut up and I plunge this sword right into your heart?"

"My dear, dear woman," Tristan silkily answered with a devil smile. "You have such clever ways of telling me you're attracted to me."

• • • • •

Hope y'all liked thus because this is literally the last happy chapter in this book for a very long time. Please put your seatbelts on because things go downhill from act 3, which comes after one last chapter of act 2!! I love you peeps, and please don't forget to vote ❤❤