Cicatrice

Chapter XIX

QUEEN ESTELLE BELSHAW

ONE MONTH LATER

The last few weeks had become an utter, traumatic blur. After father died, I could not remember anything, it was like my brain just shut off. I had a huge sense of guilt in the pit of my stomach as if I were the one that had caused his death - and yet, after all of this time, his assassinator still had not been caught.

The fact that I was now an orphan often kept me up at night. With Malcolm's forceful arms wrapped around my waist made it even harder. Usually, I would be able to put up with it, but tonight, I simply could not. My heart was once again in a battle with my brain.

Struggling to scramble out of Malcolm's embrace, the cold air brushes up against my skin. Gazing out of the window, I notice the radiant moon dancing in the sky, casting a dim luminescence on the grass below my tower. Malcolm snores quietly and peacefully on the king-sized bed, wrapped in blankets as if he were an infant.

What catches me out of my trance is the smell of pastries baking. It had to be at least midnight, so the fact that either Marguerite or Eddie would be baking at this hour would be rather odd. Curiosity took over me as I amble quietly out of the bedroom down the hall to the kitchen. I did feel relatively famished at this hour.

Gazing around the corner, I notice Eddie in the dim light, using a rolling pin to make presumably even more pastries. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing his slightly muscular frame and veiny arms.

A small smirk forms onto my lips. "We have lights for a reason, you know," I remark quietly, watching him slightly jump with fear in his eyes. Chuckling at his reaction, Eddie doesn't say a word as I lift myself up on the marble bench, my legs dangling.

"What are you doing up at such an hour?" I question with furrowed eyebrows. I deserved an answer, after all.

"Your majesty, I know you have been an insomniac for quite some time now," he whispers, a faint glint in his blue eyes as he inches closer to me. "I just wanted to make you something nice. You still like pastries, don't you?" he enquires, taking me by surprise.

He didn't have to do that.

Letting out a small gasp, I can't contain how surprised I was– that he would stay up just to make me some of my favourite snacks, knowing I could not sleep.

I simper, flattered. "Why, of course, Eddie. I can't fathom that you would do this for me," I grin, feeling my heart flutter in my chest. Nobody often did anything nice for me, unless there was something in return for them. That was of course, beside for Marguerite.

I am afraid she would give up her life for me.

"I thought you deserved it. You deserve happiness, your majesty," he whispers, a small grin on his face. "Please, Eddie, you don't have to address me like that. It's Este," I giggle briefly, my face lighting up in joy as he smiles lopsidedly in obedience.

He believed that I deserved to be happy. But I had the opposite opinion. Why, of all things, should I deserve happiness? I was disloyal. Eddie especially should have understood that.

I stare at the tiled floor.

"What is it?" Eddie asks in a comforting tone, and I can see the light of his eyes in the corner of mine. I shake my head, tears welling up in my eyes as I purse my lips together. "I don't deserve happiness, Eddie," I state, gazing into his baby blue eyes that say otherwise.

He rests his warm hands on my freezing ones. "Este... look at me," he demands when I look away, but yet again, I'm hypnotised in his eyes. "You. Deserve. Happiness," he says slowly. My eyes fluttered closed, and just for a second, I start to believe him.

When I open my eyes, his eyes still remain on me, a curve on his pink lips. He looked perfect tonight. More perfect than usual. With a small strand of hair dangling over his forehead and his tired blue eyes, I found perfection in his flaws.

"Do you feel like having the pastries right away? They're almost done," He asks gently as smoke rises to the ceiling from the opened oven.

"That sounds nice... would you care to join me?"

⁂

We sit eloquently face-to-face in the formal dining room, metres apart. Candles dimly light up the middle of the table, and I could tell Eddie felt out of place. It was just us, feasting at midnight, enjoying each others silenced company.

Holding a glass of red wine up to my lips, I sip the bitter liquid. This was the calmest I had been since my reign as Queen. I felt safe in Eddie's company. We never really talked much after I had gotten married, so it was nice knowing now that we were on good terms.

Although my heart wasn't.

The night wrapped up. "I think I should head back to bed before Malcolm awakes," I murmur, without thinking, grabbing his hand. The feeling that had slowly strayed away came back within an instant. I quickly let go of his hand, yet he didn't say a word, however, he just stared at me with adoration.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I question uncomfortably, feeling my cheeks grow a bright red.

He sighs, a small smile on his lips. "Because you are beautiful, Este," he growls lowly as I feel my stomach flipping. I succumb to his touch, his lips delicately gracing mine as he softly caresses my face. I did not want to let go; ever.

With our lips breaking apart, our foreheads touch as we stare into each others eyes.

"Take that as a good night kiss, love," he faintly whispers.