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Red resumes his meal merrily. “If you have issues or need someone to talk to about your relationship with the queen, I’m here.”
His offer is as unnecessary as his existence.
Our relationship—if it can be called that, has improved immensely over the last couple of days, especially after our training together. But I still can’t get past her walls…
“Still think she’s not fit to be queen?” he asks, making small talk.
“She cares too much…” I mutter quietly.
“Rhianelle is kind therefore she is weak?” Red arches a brow.
“I never said that,” I snarl at him. But yes, her tender heart is a fatal flaw that could lead to my wife’s undoing.
The guy studies me, chewing his stupid pancake silently. “Have you ever considered that maybe she is kindbecauseshe is strong?”
My eyes widen.
I can’t think of a damn thing to say to that.
I’m surprised Red manages to say something that struck a chord to my heart. I mull over his words until I glimpse a flash of silver hair over the white stone precinct.
There she is.
Rhianelle is always a vision to watch, clad in her viridian dresses, heavy robes, and grand headdresses. My pulse plunges into a chaotic rhythm at the sight.
A goddess.
I’ve never been religious in my existence, but I’d worship her.
Red was right, this spot does have the best view. She moves along the portico, discussing something with her fellow council member.
Nel seems so vulnerable and small amongst those battle-hardened warriors. The more I look at her, the more I realize she doesn’t belong in this den of wolves. The entire world seems unsafe, filled with dangers and traps lurking in the next corner, waiting to ensnare my little fawn. I feel a sudden need to steal her and keep her for myself. I force the burgeoning desire at bay.
Something is off.
The pacing of her heartbeat is too smooth and regular. I catch the brief knitting of her eyebrows as if she’s waiting for it all to be over.
She’s hurting.
No one notices that look because Rhianelle wears her mask so damn well.
Suddenly, nothing else matters. I get up from the booth and leave the tavern in a haste. I don’t care for the eyes cowering in my presence, the poor souls who are in my path. All I know is I need to get to her urgently.
“Where are you going?” Red asks, catching up with me from behind.
I don’t listen to him as I storm the compound.
Fuck, fuck, where is she?
The building’s frontage is within sight, but Rhianelle is no longer there. I run over the mosaic tiles along the entryway. I can feel she is close, but a figure stands in the middle of my track. Eyepatch’s entire face shifts the moment he sees me approaching.
No one will stop me from seeing Nel. My muscles tense with the anticipation of violence.
“What are you doing here?” the silver-armored knight asks, unfazed by my threat.
If he insists on being an obstacle, then so fucking be it.
The dull white walls of this building could use some scarlet paint.
