Credits to MR.LEE'S for the poster! |
“Darling,
what did you do that for?” Theo grunted while crawling towards him.
She was
about to pin him onto the bed again, but the muscular man had mumbled,
“Th-th-there is someone at the door.”
Theo glanced at me before scoffing, “Do not
mind her. She is just here to spoil our amusement.” Tugging at his arm, she
suggested, “Let us continue.” She grazed her tongue along his cheek and to his
ear, where she took the time to nibble at them.
“S-s-stop,”
the man now stammered.
“I know you
like that.”
“I-I-I
cannot!”
Off the man sprinted in an almost
naked manner. In fact, he had even tripped over the thin sheet that covered the
latter half of his body and hastily dashed out the door. I just laughed at his
embarrassment and his stupidity. If he was concerned with others knowing about
his relationship with Theo, then he should not have even entered the room.
There were maids that were already circulating rumours, yet for some reason,
when he was composed with some form of clothing, he would be able to accept all
sorts of stories. When naked, however, he would not be able to tolerate the
truth. He had to confront the truth when all the lies, and support had been
stripped from him. Naked, he became and vulnerable, he now felt. Rolling off of
the bed, Theo reached for her silk night gown, which lay on the tiled, marble
floor.
“You really know how to destroy
fun, do you not?” she snubbed.
“I would
not have if Trenton had not asked me to see you,” I argued. “He wanted to tell
you that he was sorry—“
“I do not
want to hear it,” she cut me off.
She frantically searched for her
opium pipe with trembling hands. She was looking through every drawer, almost
tossing everything to the floor just to find her drug. I had never seen her as desperate
before, and I had never imagined her to become so addicted.
“Bull! Frieda! Frieda!” she
shouted.
The maid
who had initially guarded the door rushed in the room. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Have you
seen my pipe?” Theo demanded.
The
frightened maid was afraid to look at Theo. “The Count of—“
“Trent,
that devil!” She screamed in fury. “Frieda, I want you to go to the market to
buy more opium. Get me a new pipe too. All the goods. Hurry!”
Suddenly, I
had remembered what Trenton and I had discussed.
“We all know how destructive Theo can be.
She does not tolerate change very well.” He had laughed at himself now. “We had
even promised to stay together forever. Just the three of us . . . immature, I
suppose?” Once I nodded, he had continued to say, “Even with this silliness, I
would like to at least care for her.” His eyes had casted downwards and his
hands fidgeted with each other. “I-I know of her circumstance with Verrill and
his . . . I just want her to cope with this in a healthful manner.”
“So, what would you like me to do?” I had
asked.
“Watch over her for me, will you . .
. please?” I had never seen Trenton so disheartened before, so discouraged. He
was looking at me now too intently; he never liked to make direct eye contact
with anyone. I saw that lump being gulped down his throat as he progressed to
explain, “In the future, I cannot help her anymore. I would have a family of my
own, so for the time being—“
“I understand, Trenton,” I cut him
off before he almost choked own his saliva. “I will try.”
Were my
attempts futile? I did not know, but I knew that his seemed to be fruitless.
“Theo,” I advised, “you should
not continue this habit.”
She tilted
her head to the right, and placed her arms on her hips. “You know nothing, so
do not tell me what to do . . . and go tell Trent to stop bothering me! He
should just go screw that cherry!” I could not resist a cackle. My head even
flung backwards while I indulged in this joke. “Why do you laugh?” she
questioned.
“What if I
told you that he already has?” I snickered.
I saw her
hands hugging her body tensely. I saw her eyes darting. She had to have been
disappointed, but I was not entirely sure once I heard her laughing. Whipping
her hair backwards, she scoffed, “Men are all the same! All whoremongers!”
For some
reason, I had to defend Trenton. I could not allow this misunderstanding to
persist. There was no need for misunderstandings in this case. He was innocent.
He was just innocently in love . . . just like I had been before.
“He had to,” I told her. “If he
had not, then he would have married the Duchess instead. Would you rather him
be with a bloody pig?” Sitting on the edge of her bed, she only sighed. “You
wanted him to always be by your side, am I correct?”
Slowly, I
approached her. The method that a person employed to approach a victim or a
criminal was critical. Actually, it might have been the pacing that was more
important. A systematic set of steps was necessary. Not too slow, but not too
fast.
“I knew
that one day . . . the three of us would separate, but I always thought . . .
perhaps, we would not,” she answered. “We would be together forever.”
I knew
exactly what she meant. I always thought Thayne, Adriana, and I would never
separate. We were friends, the best of them. We hung out with each other for no
reason. She helped me patch my relationship with Thayne. She would always tell
me to forgive him because he truly loved me. I still remembered the biggest
fight I had ever had with Thayne. I had accidentally mistaken his cell phone as
mine, and so the most recent text message he had received.
Baby, I love you too.
Then, I looked back at his older
messages. He told her he loved her, and that he missed her. He told her that he
couldn’t be with her because he had to be at my father’s birthday party. She
told him that she could understand his situation, and that she would always
wait for him. He asked her not to wait for him because he had to be with me. I
wouldn’t be able to let him go, and that he still loved me. He had an obligation
to take care of me. After all, I had no one else, but him. She said that she
could never leave him, and like she had always promised, she would wait for him
for eternity. Even if she were to marry, she said, she would always love him
the most.
I never confronted him. I sought for
Adriana’s help. She combed her fingers through my hair and looked at me
solemnly. Then, she uttered, “This is nothing, sweetie. He clearly says that he
loves you the most.”
“But he loves her too!” I shrieked
with tears bawling from my eyes. “These texts . . . have been going on for
months or heck, even years! How could he—“
“Just trust him,” Adriana reminded,
“and forget about this. This was just a fling, and nothing else.”
“How can I—“
“I’ll confront him for you, and I
promise you that it’ll all be like before,” Adriana noted.
“How can I know that he won’t
contact this ‘Ruth’ again?” I shouted. “How can I even . . . trust him again?”
“Because, trust me,” Adriana
repeated, “he loves you the most.”
“He loves
you, Theo,” I stated. “He does and even if he were to love the Countess, he
would always love you the most.”
Theo
planted her head on my chest and collapsed in tears that drenched my dress. I
was not sure how long she had sobbed. I just remembered my arms growing sore
from patting on her back. I also remembered eyeing Frieda to leave once she had
returned from her excursion.
What Theo needs is comfort, so please . . .
comfort her.
Trenton had been right. He knew her well. He
knew her too well. It was unfortunate that she would never realize just how
much he had comforted her, and how much he loved her. Love was better off
served wordless. I scoffed at myself while watching the raindrops platter onto
the window pane. I knew, in my heart, that who loved who the most was a stupid
statement to make and a silly question to ask. The most? That meant more than
one was loved. I didn’t need that again. I didn’t need to remember love once
more.
-------
Chaotic and
ironic.
That had to
be the words to describe Raul and Trenton’s situations. Eleanor’s bump and
Paulette’s love for Raul had developed much earlier than I had anticipated. The
Duke of Frayedon was absolutely astounded when these two events occurred almost
simultaneously, but he was content. Who would not have relished the fact that a
daughter of his was to marry a royal Duke? There might have been a chance for
Paulette to become the Queen. As for Eleanor, whose actions were promiscuous,
she had married well too.
The Duke of
Frayedon, thus, became the catalyst of these two reactions. He pushed for their
marriages to be held as soon as winter ended and even on the same days. As I
had believed, the King had agreed, probably for two reasons. He wanted to Raul
to challenge Cael’s growing authority and he also wanted to reduce the Duke of
Minon’s presence at court. The classic killing of using two birds with one
stone.
“Brilliant
plan of yours,” Cael commended when he visited my chamber the night of the couple’s
wedding.
He had chosen to rest for winters
were extremely rough for him. The coldness was too much for his weak body to
bear, so Beau substituted for Cael during large events. On the other hand, the
King had forced Calla to replace me for the evening’s festivities. I believed
that he wanted to prevent me from meeting any suitors; I had to follow his
choice of marriage.
I was
perched at the corner of my favourite spot by the window with a novel in my
hands. I glimpsed at him, asking, “What plan?”
As he
advanced towards me, the candlelight resting on the window sill revealed his
cunning smirk. I leaned backwards, worried what he had in mind, and just when I
thought he could not come any closer, he grinned in the same manner.
“Fear is
only present in guilt ridden people,” he whispered in my ear before relaxing on
a cushion beside me. “Thank you though,” he added. “My preparations will fall
in place accordingly.”
Curling my
feet, I mumbled, “Are you here to inform me of my role?”
“Precisely.”
He leaned forward to interlock his digits and then glanced at me. “Continue to
support Raul. Build his ego until it explodes on its own,” he said with the
most chilling smile , revealing too much of his teeth.
“You want
him to cause his own demise? You are the Crown Prince—“
“Which is
only a term, a term that can always be removed,” he reminded and grabbed his
jacket to leave. “Ah, yes, before I forget, do not initiate schemes without
consulting me. Fortunately, your plan was beneficial. If it were detrimental .
. .” Again, he took too many steps to face me directly. This time, however, he
announced, looking straight at me, “If it were detrimental, then I cannot
guarantee that you will always remain my sister.”
I turned my
head to another side and scoffed, “You never guarantee anything, dear brother.”
He laughed
at my reply. “And you do?”
I watched
him leave, knowing that I could never answer his question. Were we too much
alike? I was tempted to say that we were different because . . . unlike him, I
had a conscience and a heart, but I could not. I could not even argue. If I had
compassion, then I would not have lived for so long. I would have been long
dead and maybe, someone would weep at my funeral. Now, no one would cry if I
were to die. However, people would remember me. Perhaps, out of hate?
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