Surviving His Royal Highnass, Prince Ashton

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Old Hag

Evelyn's POV

A heavy silence fell amongst us after we greeted Lady Arabella Devereux, Ashton's grandmother. Adele and Aunt Claire drifted to the background as the elderly woman peered at us through her thick spectacles. I rarely saw this woman while growing up, so I thought she had passed a while back. Oh, was I wrong. Her face seemed to be permanently contorted into a sneer by the folds decorating her face. She hasn't changed much since I've last seen her, when she chastised us for our rudimentary behavior during our honeymoon.

"You seem fine." She sniffed.

"Actually, I have a rather large scar on my lower abdominal region, but it wouldn't be proper to show you." Ash answered. Sarcasm tinged his tone.

She sharply exhaled, "Child, you best be back on duty."

"The physician just recently gave him permission to move freely, he can't—" Aunt Claire got interrupted.

"Enough. He is his father's son. Ashton, the longer you are away from your throne, the greater the threat of being usurped. Those hyenas are just waiting..."

"Hyenas?" I spoke up.

A wry smile formed on her face, "Where there is a lion, there are always hyenas around."

Ash leaned in and whispered, "I told you she's senile."

I refrained myself from nudging him in the ribs, knowing full well that could be the worst act to commit while he was still injured.

"But you, you shouldn't be worried about the hyenas. When will I see my great grandchild? I need to die in peace knowing that the Devereux will reign for years to come."

I squirmed out of embarrassment.

Ash sighed, "Grandmother, we are not going to rush anything simply because you're starting to feel your old age. I will take care of this kingdom well, I promise you. There's nothing to worry about."

His grandmother looked up at him, "I trust that you will."

With that, she took her leave, even though Aunt Claire invited her to stay for dinner. Before getting on her coach, however, she turned to me and took my hands into hers.

"I know these people think I'm harebrained. But you, child, there's something different about you. Please take care of Ashton. I am serious about the hyenas. Don't let them get to him. Not every attempt of theirs will fail like this." She said in a hushed voice.

I nodded, not knowing how to respond.

She then looked around and leaned in, "I also want that great-grandchild by my next visit."

I gave her a shy smile, "We'll try our best."

She patted my back and laughed. With that, she was off.

Aunt Claire started grumbling the moment the old lady was out of earshot, "She was always unbearable, but her old age is really tiring everyone's patience now. Ash, dear, don't pay her any mind and focus on recovering fully before you take on anymore stress."

Dinner proceeded as usual, except Ash was dawning more wine than normal as per the physician's opinion. Something about helping the scar tissue heal faster. Ash and I started walking back together after dinner. Well, his walk was more of a sway. I was scared he'd stumble before we made it back to his room, but fortunately that didn't happen.

My thoughts wandered back to Lady Arabella. Despite everyone's distaste towards her, her advice sounded rather wise to my ears. I mean, the threat was still out there.

I must have looked concerned, because Ash cleared his throat to call my attention.

"What did she say to you before you left?"

I pursed my lips, "Same thing she said earlier."

He raised his eyebrows, "You mean?"

I nodded, "She's rather impatient to have a great-grandchild."

I regretted telling him as a smug expression dawned on his face, "Maybe we should grant her wish before she kicks the bucket. It would only be polite."

His fingers traced up my arms as I steadily backed away, stopping only when I felt the wall. His feather light touch sent satisfying shudders down my spine. He leaned in and kissed my collarbone and slowly moved up, leaving a trail of kisses behind. I hissed and reached up to stop him.

"Ash!" I chastised.

He looked into my eyes with his own, the blue in his glazed over with desire, "Hm?"

"We can't. Not now."

He let out a low whimper, "Then when?"

"You know what the physician said about physical exertion!" I protested, panicking.

He's never been so persistent before.

It was the wine.

He waved his hand to the side, dismissing the expert opinion, "You'll be gentle, won't you?"

His voice was dangerously low. It affected me in ways that I couldn't control. It took all my strength to push him to the side.

I exhaled, not even realizing that I had been holding my breath.

I turned to leave, but he pulled me onto the bed with him. He then proceeded to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me as close as possible. I felt him.

"This is what you do to me, Evelyn." He muttered.

I fidgeted in his grasp, "Ash, you're not in your right mind."

He mumbled into my hair, "You're not in your right mind. Who would ever dare to reject..."

His voice trailed off into nothingness as sleep overcame his senses, much to my relief. Only my deep breaths penetrated the silence. I felt bad, but not bad for rejecting him. I felt bad for rejecting my own desire. 

He should know his limits, but he lost sense of his inhibition in this inebriated state.

If he ever dares to touch wine again...