55 | ACT III, SCENE III

P R E V I O U S L Y

"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I've got you, you've got us. Your secret is safe with me. Sleep. I'll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you."

HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.

EDWINA

I HAD NOT SLEPT SO soundly since a hundred years.

Soft morning light hit my lids, burning red, as I rolled a bit further, colliding with something warm. Slowly, I opened my eyes and gasped loudly.

I'd been sleeping at the left extreme, Tristan at the right. And now, we both were at the center. My head was on his chest, and I could hear strong, calming heartbeats under me. Another groan, and I realized that under me wasn't a pillow. It was his arm.

I groaned, my hands coming up with fistfuls of his white cotton shirt in my fingers. Slowly, my eyes traveled up to his throat, the arteries pumping blood to those strong, chiseled muscles. His jaw was hard and stubborn as I looked higher up, past his sinful lips and to his eyes.

They were bluer than I had ever seen them, and were watching me with a slight, amused smile as I took in where I was. He looked at me as if the moon and the stars shone out of my eyes.

His face was much better, the colour returned to it, and the eyes no longer looked tired, but happy and well rested. Thank the heavens, I prayed to myself. Thank you for not making him suffer any more.

The stubborn god had propped himself up on a cushion, the other hand was still under my head as he watched me quietly, careful not to move for fear of waking me up.

My leg was over his, our limbs entangled. He still hadn't changed out from last night's shirt. With a flinch of panic, I realized that the hem of my petticoat had crept more than halfway up my thigh, leaving bare skin exposed to the morning air.

"Careful there, Tremayne," Tristan closed his eyes and stretched. I looked in marveled amazement at the muscles that swelled under the shirt. "You might want to consider... less provocative nightwear," he continued, "I might just pull off that pitiful excuse of a dress any moment."

"I'll wear what I want to, Valmont. Keep your lustful tendencies in your pants," my lips curled with a smile, feeling giddy and sated.

"Hmm... someone thinks quite highly of herself," he muttered casually, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Says the man who hasn't taken his eyes off my provocative nightwear ever since I woke up?" I sleepily chuckled, my voice hoarse and throaty.

A smirk lit up Tristan's lips, slowly tilting up in a mischievous laugh. The deep, seductive gaze shining in his eyes made my breath come in harsh gasps.

"Stop testing my patience, woman. Everyday, I resist the urge to bend you over the desk, rip off your dress, shut that smart mouth of yours... and make you mine," he silkily purred in a dulcet whisper.

Flaming heat rushed to my red cheeks as his eyes lingered on the strip of vulnerable skin. My dress rode even higher up my leg, and now there was something primal shining in his eyes - something wild, something hungry.

"Shut up," I muttered in protest. "Kings shouldn't have such lustful thoughts about the ladies in their court. Do you think about Vanessa - about Celestina - like that?"

He licked his lips softly, like a predator.

"A King bows only to his Queen," he breathed huskily. "Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep."

Slowly, he skimmed a hand down my bare calf.

The pillow failed to muffle my aroused groans.

The sensation felt astoundingly intimate, considering that the only place we had ever touched each other was the face and arms. This was completely new and addictive; the feeling of his skilled palm sliding over my skin like rough velvet. His finger lightly walked to my foot, slowly tracing the outline of my sole with touches lighter than a feather.

"You were saying, woman?" Tristan purred softly, his voice husky. He gently scraped a nail against my heel, the touch wickedly teasing.

My only answer was a moan as my back arched off the mattress. All my blood had gathered and pooled right at the back of my foot, the only point he was touching me, carefully stroking the skin like a master musician, playing me like his fiddle.

"Oh - damn - oh damn," I muttered, trying to fight off the desire collecting low in my belly. He took it as a sign of approval, increasing the pace of his strokes as I delightfully squirmed in his grasp.

"Hmmm. What was that I heard?" Tristan cocked his head to one side, innocently pretending to listen as a helpless peal of laughter escaped my lips.

"No idea, Valmont. I'd daresay your ears don't work too well."

"You're not very innocent, are you, woman?" he muttered with a smug smile.

"As if," I snorted with laughter, greedily sucking in a delighted breath to cool my flustered facade. His lips tipped higher with amusement. His fingers walked up my neck and tilted up my chin so that our knowing eyes met.

"No big deal," he hotly murmured in my ear, and I burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter for no reason.

"Big deal? It was an ordeal, Valmont," I glared fiercely at him, failing to hide my grin. "You snore so much, I was pretty sure the whole of Endollon was up all night." Playfully, I shook him off me and grabbed the pillow, burying my head under it to block out the sunlight.

"Liar," he chortled. "You pull away all the blankets to yourself and then tell me you can't sleep? You, Edwina Tremayne," I heard him come closer. "You," he said, "are a fucking blanket hoarder."

At the same instant, he pulled the pillow off my head and I groggily snapped something unintelligent as the light hit my eyes again. Tristan flipped me over so that I faced him, then bent down, lips a mere inch from mine.

Tempting bastard.

"Stealing blankets from the King of Endollon is a very serious crime," he whispered in my ear, as a tremor passed through my body. I wrapped my hands around his neck to draw him closer. "A very, very, serious crime," Tristan continued, pulling off the blanket as well, hands on my shoulders as I looked up at him, giving a longing gasp. A sudden moan escaped my lips as his hands skimmed the pulse on my neck.

"Stop teasing me, Valmont," I huffed, frustrated at the way his touch would transform me into soft dough, willing to be molded and pounded into whatever his hands wished.

His eyes gleamed while an amused grin appeared on his lips as a thrill went through me.

"Is that a challenge, Edwina?"

I got up with a knowing smirk, pulling my sleeves up and flinging my pillow down before pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

"Maybe it is, King Valmont."

Then I skipped out of the room to get dressed for the day, knowing that his face was shining with the same smile mine wore.

• • • • •

I couldn't stop smiling the entire day. A glass of the finest sangria in hand, the morning breezed past as I worked my way through a meeting with my inner council and a lunch with a few ministers. My lips seemed to be permanently lifted in a knowing smirk, try as I might to tone it down.

The morning had left me... flustered, to say the very least.

I entered the dining Hall and put down my glass for a moment only to find Llewellyn and Celestina sitting at the table, apparently in some conversation. Her gaze was soft and hesitant, more lost than that of a baby bird. He seemed worked up about something, and I clasped Llewellyn on the back as they both looked up.

"Everything okay?"

"I... uh - yeah," he muttered, raising an eyebrow at his new wife. She seemed to curl up into her chair with nervousness, timidly offering me a glass of wine. I took a sip and put it down to look at Tristan's younger brother right in his grey eye.

"What's wrong?" I mouthed.

Llewellyn's face turned a deep red and I frowned at him. He finally let out a resolute sigh and motioned for me to come closer, finally leaning in to whisper something in my ear.

"Umm... it's the fact that - uhh, we're married."

"I had no idea," I answered sarcastically. He glared at me for a moment before mussing up his hair and then continue.

"Er - married couples have... duties," he murmured helpfully.

"Ah."

A child. Celestina's parents no doubt wanted her to carry the child of her husband, Llewellyn Valmont, who was in fact... completely enamored with Vanessa.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," I said silently.

Rape was an offence punishable by death when Tristan was King of Stormholt. On becoming the ruler supreme after the coronation, he extended it to the rest of the five kingdoms, too. He knew what Apollo had done to his mother. Tricked her and took her.

And he never wanted any other woman to go through that again.

I respected Tristan. And I loved him for that.

Suddenly, Celestina burst into tears, crying into a handkerchief of peach silk. The lilies adorned in her hair withered as did the roses in the vase, the room suddenly lay stolen of its regal look, as if the furniture had died.

I gently took the younger goddess in my arms, letting her sob into my shoulder. She dabbed at her eyes and at the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm - I'm sorry - it's just that it's a strange place - and everything feels so new here," she whispered. Llewellyn handed her a glass of water with an understanding nod. She gulped it down eagerly. I offered her my goblet of wine, to which she resolutely shook her head.

"It's alright," I told her softly. "You're not a prisoner here, okay? Would you like to see the gardens?"

She nodded eagerly, clutching her husband's arm. He sighed deeply and finally nodded.

"Off you both go then," I ushered them out of the door, leaning back against the chair and taking another sip of my wine.

• • • • •

CARLEIGH PALACE, SUNCAIRN, ELLESMERE.

ERIC

"How are the babies today?" I walked into the room to give Amphitrite a quick kiss on the cheek. She giggled and flicked my nose, settling into the chair to massage her huge belly. Even though she was heavily pregnant, she refused to stay in bed and rest.

Triplets. We were going to have triplets.

"I hope it's a boy this time," she turned to me with big blue eyes as I placed a hand on the soft swell of her stomach.

"Hey, no pressure," I told her, kissing her eyelids, pressing my lips against her smooth skin.

Her eyes shone happily like summer clouds and new bloomed periwinkles. Another giggle slipped out of her lips. She hugged me tightly as I burst into laughter and kissed the top of her nose.

"I have an appointment with Rosalva," Amphitrite murmured happily. "You're making me late."

"I actually need to go talk to Edwina about some work - can you wait till I come back? I don't want you to go there alone. We both know... what happened the last time," I solemnly told her, recalling the old memories of the ambush of Vertgate.

"Of course she's not going alone. I'm going with her," a voice cut in with a chuckle. I turned around to find my father, Eros. He grinned and put a comforting arm around Amphitrite's shoulder. She relaxed with a smile.

"I'm going too," my sister, Vanessa chirped in.

"And me as well. We won't let anything happen to mother," Verona added excitedly. I gave her a hug and looked her in the eye.

"Protect her. Alright?"

"Yes, father," she nodded with eagerness, bouncing on the balls of her feet while buckling a bow and arrows around her shoulder.

"Fine. I have work. I'll be back soon," I whispered to Amphi. She stood up on her toes to kiss my cheek, the scent of freshwater and lilies wafting in the air. I kissed her back and nodded to my family, departing the room and making my way to the lush meadow of Suncairn Palace.

I vanished into thin air, teleporting right to the rolling green lawns in front of Hartington Castle. My feet trudged up the stairs to the entrance, the summer sun burning high up in the sky.

Sweat was pouring down the sides of my temple.

The weather was strange these days, the rains somewhat occasional, but the heat burnt and sweltered. Ever since Titania's death, the seasons had been in a turmoil, for she was goddess of seasons, and without her, the power balance of seasons would not be fully restored unless a new god or goddess was born and got that power.

Or my children.

I wondered what powers would they have. Amphitrite spent all night chatting it up, until I shut her up and pulled her to sleep beside me. She needed to rest, and the heat wasn't doing her any favors.

My footsteps echoed along the corridor as I walked to the dining hall. Edwina would probably be there right now. The issue of destroying the cube was pressing down on my mind, and I needed to know if she was making any progress with it. Helios, Nyx, Tristan and I had tried our level best, but the damned thing wouldn't break.

And it surely contained the Logogram.

I passed Llewellyn and Celestina in the corridors, Aidon walking beside them with the usual manic gleam in his chartreuse eyes. He clapped my shoulder as I nodded, and suddenly stopped as he pulled me back.

"You're sweating like hell, Eric."

"Quite a bit of heat these days. Gets to the head," I huffed, flicking a lock of golden hair out of my eyes.

"Get him something cool to drink," Llewellyn motioned to one of the attendants, who handed me a goblet of iced Merlot. I quickly gulped down the chilled liquid and put down the glass. The cool trail was still burning down my body as I opened the doors of the hall.

The moment my eyes caught sight of Edwina, all my thoughts vanished and went out of the window.

Till date, any person I had spoken to, had not debated for a minute just how lovely Edwina Tremayne was. It was universal. It was acknowledged. It was a truth. All the men, all the gods and goddesses agreed on it. Even men like Deimos, men like Emerick and Favian, men who hated her, they all had openly admitted to one truth.

The woman was striking.

She was a masterpiece.

Marriage offers had begun to reach her since she turned just seventeen, pure and radiant as the sun. Each and every House had proposed to marry their heir to her. Edmund, Alaric, Aeneas, Favian, Llewellyn... my own father had been hell bent on making me marry her, but Lucius Tremayne was cunning. He had rejected all offers over three centuries, waiting and waiting and waiting as proposals came once, twice, thrice. They never stopped.

Then finally, his dream came true seeing his daughter become the Queen. And then, he fulfilled his long held wish of marrying her to the mighty Tristan Valmont, the eldest of the cousins, and one of the strongest.

Day after day, time had done nothing to dull her perfection. Even covered in mud and blood and gore, Edwina Tremayne was the object of every man's fantasy and every woman's jealousy.

And then, I found myself wondering what would life have been like had I married her.

Everything, from the lush curves of her body, the slim hourglass waist. The shapely breasts that filled up her chest, the swanlike neck that held her proud head. And a pair of the most enviable collarbones I had ever seen, just begging to be kissed and worshipped. Her blood red lips quirked up slightly as she saw me, working on a sheet of paper. The gown she wore was sea and salt, her gorgeous lips and her gorgeous cheekbones and her gorgeous eyes. I wouldn't even try to swim in those eyes. I'd just drown in them.

And not only was she just beautiful on the outside. Beautiful on the inside as well, kind and caring and compassionate, excellent with her sword and tongue and it struck me that Edwina Tremayne was everything, everything a man could want in a woman. She was all that, and more. Perhaps that is why her skin glowed so, it was her inner beauty that lit her eyes and softened her features.

She got up, licking her lips, as something in my chest instinctively drew me to her, her seductive eyes beckoning me over without any use of a single word. It felt as if a sort of magnetic field pulled me, for I could not have resisted it even if I wanted to. And why would I resist?

I was fucking jealous of Tristan Valmont.

• • • • •

EDWINA

I felt funny. But a good kind of funny, something warm and burning inside my chest as I saw Eric enter the room.

Why had it taken me so long to realise how good Eric looked?

He had a rugged, boyish charm to him, a smile as wide as the sky. Serious grey eyes, eyes like the storm, stormy and solemn and darkening with desire as he walked to me, smirking slightly. He smelled so good, like the sea and salt and brimstone and sea foam. It felt like the sea itself was standing right in front of me, mighty and vast and powerful, with his aquiline nose and the golden locks that tumbled down his head like molten copper.

And something inside me just pulled me to him, pulling, pulling, pulling me till I collided with his chest, and it was only natural as he slipped a hand around my waist, pulling me to him.

Gods. What would life have been like if I had married Eric? He was handsome. It was like a fish getting caught in a fishing hook, try as I might, I couldn't escape, not now.

"Edwina," Eric breathed, cupping my face in his hands. I couldn't speak, I couldn't fathom anything else but him, him and the sea and the salt breeze around him. His hand was on the small of my back, the scent of Merlot and sea salt clinging to him. Dizzier and dizzier and dizzier... until I could resist no more.

Our lips finally pressed.

He was the vast, mighty ocean. His kiss was deep, deeper than the sea - not a raging tornado, but unyielding ocean. I was lost in his grey gaze.

Suddenly the door banged open and a woman's furious scream rented the air.

"ERIC LEVANE!"

The reverie broken, we both looked up all of a sudden.

Amphitrite was standing right in the doorway.

And behind her, his face just as white - my husband.

• • • • •

Y'ALL. SHIT JUST WENT DOWN.

I love Edwina, but what just happened... unforgivable *clicks tongue* just when everything was getting on, and then BAM! Better be prepared to face a very angry Tristan Valmont next chapter because this was just the worst thing that could have happened *cri*