death is the only ending for the trash queen

Part 18

Cale really couldn't care less where the worthless king shoved his dick.

For all she could care, he could be fucking every goddamn maid and butler in the palace and she wouldn't give a rats ass about it. There was absolutely no reason she'd ought to give the slightest fuck about what Alver did.

She was only upset because he'd exposed their four year old daughter to debauchery. That was all. It was irresponsible and stupid of him. What could Penelope have witnessed to have told her that? How much had he already traumatized their innocent daughter?

The fiery rage that filled her completely had nothing to do with caring about what he did or who he did it with.

Still, her?

Of all people, her?

Cale's fists clenched as the words he dared to utter echoed in her head.

"What's wrong?" She asked back coldly, her entire body exuding an aura of rage. "You would like to know what's wrong?"

Cale was a complicated person.

While it was true that she had acted in a great many ways that most people would dismiss as morally reprehensible. She mistreated and used others, she would lie as easy as breathing, she manipulated for her own goals and never cared about those who were left in the wake of her cruelty, she was truly a cold and villainous person with debatable morality.

But she did have morals. And ones with which she adhered to ardently.

There were obvious ones.

Anyone who was considered her family was always prioritized above herself and everyone else, to be protected at any and all personal cost. It was a selfless virtue taken to such an extreme that it had long since become a vice.

And then there were her less obvious virtues.

Cale was loyal, faithful, and devoted.

Perhaps those virtues were the very reason she was prone to such extremes.

But she took vows seriously. Even ones she'd never wanted to or intended to make.

When she swore a vow of fidelity at the altar to her husband to be, she had every intention of keeping it even if it meant a lifetime of abstinence. And she did just that. Even through every hateful meeting or lamentable disagreement.

She'd never so much as looked at another after the beginning of their marriage.

One of the very few things she'd always thought she could depend upon Alver for was his adherence to that same vow.

Obviously she didn't care where he put his dick. Obviously. Why would she? But she always had a certain appreciation for the fact that there were never rumors of a lover or a concubine or other nonsense. If for Penelope's sake if nothing else.

She thought they were of one mind when it came to this.

For reasons she couldn't even begin to comprehend, Cale felt like crying.

And so, in a pure and absolute Cale fashion, she funneled all of that emotion into a boundless rage that consumed her entire heart and mind.

Mindless of her plans to make nice with the king and her own position at his mercy, without even a regard for how it might be considered treasonous, Cale dragged Alver down by the collar and bashed her forehead against his own, reddish brown eyes glaring ferociously into shocked blue.

All of the surroundings melted away as there was only the pair of them and Cale's fury. Perhaps that was why her dangerous hiss resounded so clearly in the ears of those presents.