Page 93 of Queen’s Gambit

“Yes, you married me, but as I mentioned downstairs it was only to get away from a pervert. So don’t act like you’re not getting anything out of this arrangement. Wasn’t it you who said this was the best of both worlds? A marriage of convenience and no strings?”

“Well, yes, but I still thought we would have an heir. That’s expected of us. We can just do it until I get pregnant, and then….”

I held up my hand, stopping whatever she was about to say next.

“No. If you want a sperm donor, I can ask Marcus. He’s drunk enough to fuck you. Or you can find a clinic, and I’ll claim the child as ours. But you will never have my heir, Patricia.”

She crossed her arms and pouted like the princess she was, but underneath it all, I saw a swirl of something darker. Good, now she knew exactly how I felt, or at least understood it better.

“Never ask me again.” I turned to leave, then stopped and looked at her. “And if you ever try something so stupid as to drug me or sneak into my bed at night, make no mistake…I’ll kill you. Goodnight.”

In the room down the hallway, I made sure my door was locked. As much as I wanted to wash away the events of the day, I didn’t bother to change or shower. Instead, I pulled out my phone.

E: God, I miss you more than a sunrise after a thousand days of darkness.

Y: How am I supposed to compete with that?

Biting my lip, I laid back on the bed.

Y: I hear the ceremony was beautiful.

E: No, you’re beautiful. It was ostentatious and annoying. But it’s done, and I hated every fucking moment.

Y: I love you, Eddie.

E: I love you more.

Y: Impossible.

One Week Later

Yulianna

As hard as I tried, I hadn’t been able to get my wedding date moved again. It had always been a long shot, but I’d hoped that Christov would give up or my father would see reason and change his mind. Neither had happened as both men were stubbornly persistent on this arrangement going forward.

I hadn’t spoken to my parents directly since my tantrum in Father’s office. All my messages had been sent via notes or my guards, but today…today, I was going to have to speak to my mother.

She had at least tried to see me, even though I refused all of her requests. Now, here I was, swallowing my pride and asking for help. If my mother really wanted to make amends, this was the way she could show her support. But she could also tell my father what I had planned. It was a risk I had to take because there was no other way to accomplish my plan without her.

The only time I didn’t feel restless was when I was holding a paintbrush, and it helped me focus my rage, so I turned back to my latest painting. The subject was my father’s new stallion. I’d watched him from my window being worked in the paddock. He was a handful, rearing and striking at his handlers. His midnight black coat and the wildness in his eyes had caught my attention the first day he arrived. I’d snuck down to the stables in the middle of the night to see Bucephalus up close and could feel his pain. He wanted to be free, not pacing his stall and snorting in protest to his captivity.

A knock at the door pulled me from the memory. I turned as Vlad ushered my mother inside. She looked sheepish as she looked around. I’d stripped all the expensive paintings from the walls and put them in my old bedroom. After a fresh coat of paint, I hung my art on all the old hooks.

“Yulianna, you look….”

“Like what,” I asked defensively as the hairs on my neck stood.

“So mature,” she said. I relaxed and turned back to my painting. “It’s been almost a year…I…I’m so sorry for everything.”

Sighing, I set my palette down and walked over to my espresso machine.

“I’m making myself a cup. Would you like one?”

“You don’t have the staff do that?”

“Why would I? I have two perfectly capable hands. I make all of my own meals now as well,” I said and then stared as my mother blushed and looked away.

“Yes, I’ll have one.”