"W-Whatever you say, my liege." I found my voice.
He stayed quiet, just watching as if I were a new species before him, and that maybe he might see what I was made of.
"I’m being serious, or do I not look so?"
Didn’t the rumor ntion that his ti in the war has left him mindless? He looked and sounded sane. If anything, he was like a...gentleman.
His smile got wider. "Maybe I didn’t make myself more clear. I won’t eat you, Eloise."
He said my na as if he owned it, and I’m not sure I was comfortable with that. My na was the only true thing I ever owned.
I picked it up from one of my favorite heroines I read about. She was a warrior, and she could do things I couldn’t. I’ve always admired such strength, and I loved reading about them.
When Father brought into the castle as a baby, he gave to Stepmother, and she didn’t have the morality to na and called a girl until I could read and write.
One day I told her I wanted to be called Eloise, and she got angry, hit , and scread in my face for doing sothing without her consent. But it was a win on my side because, at the end of the day, she used it—distastefully, I might add.
"Forgive , my liege. I’d prefer you call wife, as it’s proper."
I was no less than a thing, after all, what better na to call his pound of flesh?
"Is that so?"
I tensed and began to mull over my choice of words. "F-Forgive , I—"
"Co sit by ."
"Huh?" I replied like an idiot.
"Sit by ," he reprised.
I narrowed my eyes, pondering his actions, but there was nothing to read or uncover. He just wanted to sit by him?
Okay.
Mustering all the courage from the skies above, I rise, too slow and careful because of the moving carriage, and I find myself next to him.
I tried my hardest to stay still like a sculpture, my hands clenched on my lap but I couldn’t keep them that way because they were shaking.
What now?
"May I touch your hair?"
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"Yes?" I replied skeptically.
He took so tousled curls, fingers playing with them, peering at them as if it were a rare sight.
This close, I noticed how long his dark lashes were, his hair shrouding them and it was the perfect blend, like ink.
"You’re right, it is proper, but I do have a problem."
"Problem?" I muttered.
"I want to call you whatever I want, title, your na, and anything else I find desirable, as your husband, don’t I have the luxury to?"
I gulped audibly, trying my best to hide my annoyance. "A-Absolutely, my liege."
"You’re quivering," he assessed. "Do I scare you?"
I didn’t answer; I figured silence was the best for a very obvious answer.
He chuckled, and it was like a warm thunder. "How else are we supposed to enjoy our wedding night if you’re scared of ?"
My face went ghostly pale. Wedding night? Enjoy? I think I know how I’d die now, and it’s very unpleasant to picture.
"I’m not scared of you, my liege."
He raised an eyebrow, even I felt like slapping myself across my face because that was the fakest words I’d ever uttered.
"Do you like flowers, Eloise?" he suddenly asked as if he hadn’t instilled terror in by ntioning the inevitable night.
"Yes," I replied.
"Which?"
"Tulips, I like pulling the petals."
He shot a questioning look, and I found myself speaking like I was compelled.
"I pluck the petals like a ritual as I decide my fate or what I’ll do next."
"Hmph, that is an interesting habit."
There was a twinkle in his eyes that I found myself drawn to.
"How about this, then, let us decide how this night will play out with it."
I blinked, a bit in awe at his words. Did I just hear right?
I got more baffled by this gentleman beside . He’s acting completely different from the stories I’ve heard and read about.
He was known to be ruthless, a war breed, and utterly despicable to humans.
Was my spouse by chance switched upon the wedding?
"We’re husband and wife now, surely you get a say in every matter concerning our marital bliss."
What on earth?
"A-As you wish, my liege," I answered suspiciously.
Flashing with what seed like his best smile, he tapped his knuckles on the window lightly, and the carriage stopped.
Footsteps were heard, and a shadow blocked the door. Amidst this, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
"Bring a tulip."
My racing heartbeat beca the only noise now as we waited for whoever was sent to bring the flower. We must’ve ridden far from any garden; it was a slim chance they would find one.
"My liege?"
"Drevon," he corrected. "Call Drevon."
"My liege, as it’s proper. I don’t want to disrespect you."
Saying his na was far too...intimate. And why would he want to call him by na? None of this makes sense. He doesn’t make sense.
He closed the distance between us again, and I found myself trying to remain as still as possible so that I wouldn’t leap out like a cat.
"You won’t." He pulled back and stuck his hand out the window to take the flower.
The carriage moved, and nausea ca again. I’d felt faint the entire ti since the ride, but I did my best to ignore it.
Drevon gave the flower, and I took it by the stem, feeling the soft petals with my fingers.
"Wedding night or no wedding night," I started.
My hands quivering beyond recognition, it took a few tries before I could pluck one petal out of the way. I lifted my gaze to him, and the intensity with which he observed had rethinking everything.
Why do I get the feeling I’ll lose this?
And then it hit. I’ve felt this before, so I knew. That feeling when you know you’re dood inevitably, and no matter how much you try to change or do sothing, it won’t make any difference. Just like the day Father summoned to his study and told about the alliance.
I chewed the inside of my mouth, as dread bled into . I’ve got a chance to escape this, so I made a choice.
I plucked two petals discreetly. Then I got to the last..."No wedding night."
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