❛WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE THE TEN MOST POWERFUL GODS ALIVE PLAY A GAME OF MUSICAL CHAIRS WITH ONE SEAT?❜
They fight - to the death.
They fight over three crowns and a throne with steel spiked maces. They despair a little more everyday keeping thei...
"And so do I," Edwina swore. "Thirteen nights from now, I swear by Uranus. We will get them back."
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CALCHESTER CITADEL, STEFFITH.
EDWINA
I CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND Eric with a soft sigh and turned back to the wedding suite. The decorations from the wedding night were still up. A lone god lingered against the balcony, leaning on the handrails in peaceful solitude.
Quietly, I made my way to Tristan. His back was still to me, but his voice was still first and foremost in my head. It kept on booming in my ears, his voice.
The way you keep on hurting me, woman, it doesn't make you any different from the rest. You're just more of the same.
He was casually leaning on the balcony, observing the gardens down below. His white hands drummed restlessly on the marble, his jet black hair ruffling in the breeze like silken flags. I bent down quietly to observe his face. It was impassive, still as white marble, devoid of emotion. The only color came from his magnetic eyes, gleaming with misery like the depths of the deepest ocean.
"Valmont?" I whispered, picking my words with care. I had an apology to make.
"What?" he snapped brusquely, and his head whizzed up. The dark eyebrows frowned again in anger. "Come to hurt me some more, Tremayne?" Tristan hissed.
"No."
"Let me guess, then. Here to hurl some more insults at my dead sister?" he asked solemnly, turning his gaze to the gardens below, refusing to meet my eyes.
"I come to... ask for forgiveness," I said softly.
"There's nothing to forgive. Not that you've left anything," he laughed cruelly, misery cloaked right into his voice.
"Forgive me," my voice rang in the hollow silence. "Forgive me for a tongue sharper than poison. For being too full of chaos. I never meant to say what I said to you, Valmont. I didn't mean it. I should have respected the memory of your dead sister, and I didn't."
He said nothing.
"I'm sorry," I gently whispered into his ear, my fingers itching to lose themselves in his messy black hair.
"She's dead," Tristan said hollowly. "Your father killed her."
"Kill me," I whispered, putting a hand around his shoulder and pulling him up. "Kill me, Valmont. Get revenge for your sister. My father killed her, you should kill me. Go on," I pressed, as he turned around to face me, his expression radiating an unknown aura.
