A Wicked Game [The Crown Saga II] (Under Editing)

Broken Promises

Evie would've been furious if she'd seen me dragging my feet like this, but for the time being, I remained alone in these empty halls.

Dinner had been served less than an hour ago, which meant that the majority of the suitors would either be in the Parlor with Evie and the royals or in their chambers.

The chances of encountering anyone before I reached my room were so small that I'd decided to ditch the noble facade and freely express the misery my body was in— or maybe I'd simply reached a point in this damned competition where I no longer cared if I was caught or not. I barely even cared for the cameras catching glimpses of me passing their assigned rooms.

Kaoru had cured me and expelled Raatak's poison from my system. At that moment, I'd never felt more alive, yet Art had insisted on me taking it easy.

He'd banished me to the backseat of the Zephyr, where I'd been ordered to sleep.

I hadn't slept once. Instead, my body had surrendered to the unpredictable motions of the car, causing me to puke into the sea more times than I cared to admit.

Every part of my body cried out for the mercy of the numerous pillows in my divine bed with each step I took. My legs were shaking, and I could barely walk in a straight line.

I sighed as I mentally counted down the number of corners I still had to round before reaching my room. I'd been walking for what felt like an eternity, yet I hadn't even made it halfway.

"You're back already?"

An annoyed groan escaped me when Tarkan's smug face appeared before me.

Tarkan snorted like a satisfied idiot. "You don't seem happy to see me," he said with an arrogant smile on his handsome face.

I'd been on the verge of death less than four hours before, yet seeing him made me want to leap out the nearest window. He'd already made my mandatory participation considerably more difficult than it should've been, and not even the strongest of my bones could deal with his hostile criticism.

"I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now," I said, walking past him without offering him as much as a decent glance. "The day has been long enough already."

"I could imagine," he said, chuckling so self-satisfied I had to bite my lip not to turn around and smack him. "I'm surprised you made it back here without as much as a scratch."

That remark seemed to act as the missing oil to the corroded gear inside my mind. The scream—the thing that caused Raatak to awaken was his doing!

I spun around to grab his uniform and slammed him against the wall in a moment of rage.

"That was you, you bastard!" I shouted, not caring if anyone should come by and see us. I'd had enough. "Do you have any idea how much damage that little trick of yours could've caused? You could've killed me if Art hadn't—"

I stopped myself before I revealed more than I should've. According to Art, the Templars were the only ones who knew about Kaoru. Tarkan was no exception, and I had to keep him in the dark. That was the price I'd had to pay in exchange for my life.

"Now, now, Wildcard; no need to get violent."

A low growl pressed through my throat. "I'm done with this game of yours. I only agreed to this game to avoid the iron shackles around my ankles if Art ever found out and to show you that First-bloods are no less than those who call themselves Iridis, but this is taking things too far. I'm not a toy for you to play with to satisfy your sadistic thirst for amusement, and I'm certainly not willing to put mine or anyone else's life in jeopardy for your sake. I'm telling the king."