❛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...
"You made your choice," I snapped. "I am never, ever, ever setting foot in Stormholt again."
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DILSTON CASTLE, KNAVESMIRE, DRACNESSE.
EDWINA
"I AM SORRY, YOUR GRACE, but the Queen has given orders to-" Francis tried to reason, before Tristan angrily cut him off.
"Where did she go? Tell me!"
"Your Grace, I-"
"LORD FRANCIS! THE HIGH KING OF ENDOLLON, THE KING OF GODS, COMMANDS YOU TO TELL HIM WHERE HIS QUEEN HAS GONE!"
"Your Grace-" Francis sounded shocked, the voices grew fainter as I leaned against the door of my room, listening.
Apollo thought I was having affairs with other men? That I was flinging around. That I had not given him an heir because I was whoring around.
He had called me slut.
I was a virgin.
It hurt. It hurt so badly that someone could make such assumptions about someone else. Because words were sharper than swords. Most of all, it hurt that people like Apollo were allowed to live. To breathe this air, to drink this world's water, to laugh and sing and talk and be free while my mother lay dead, cold and stiff in her silent grave.
It should have been his grave, not hers.
"Open the door," I heard Tristan knock the wood thrice, speaking in a low voice. It teetered on the edge of barely restrained anger and forced gentleness, yet he struggled to keep it even.
"No."
"Open the fucking door, woman. Before I break it down."
"I'm sitting right near the door, mister Valmont. So if you want me to be in one piece, I strongly suggest you rethink your decision!"
A minute passed. I heard him slide down to the floor on the other side. A scuffle of robes as he shifted and pressed his head to the other side of the door.
"Edwina."
The way he spoke my name burned into my skin, as desire crept up my spine. Some twisted part of me wanted to hear him say it again.
Ed - wi - na.
It sounded smoky, alluring, inching into my blood like a knife through butter. The temptation to open the door and let him in waved in my face, but my seething anger at Apollo put it back into its place.
