Three thousand seventy-four meetings later
Seriously, I don't know why I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest, but I was going to drown the hell out of this feeling with alcohol and probably spend the night in bed. Whether it's resting or sex will be decided later.
I needed to talk to Helena to see how she felt about the whole thing. I didn't really care if someone would see.
I was still masked so I could meet her as usual. I could get away with being around her, to be honest. I did it more than I should probably.
That meant that I knew where I needed to go and where exactly she had gone. Walking past the gardens into the main room of the larger mansion, I found one princess trimming the bushes into a shape.
The gardens of the house were always one with the building. If it continued to grow, so did the house itself. It was alive of its own volition.
I did not speak with an air of nonchalance or the cheeriness that I wanted to bring, but an emotion that I did not often associate myself with came up: burning hot rage, the kind that I bottled up and pushed right into the depths of my mind to never think of.
"What. the. fuck. happened?"
My voice was laced with me claiming cold efficiency. Helena turns to me, her eyes red from tears already dried. She is putting aside the shives to the plants. "It doesn't matter. Not my choice, remember?"
I barked, "Like fuck it is!"
For the bare of seconds. I saw something flash in her eyes, but it was gone in a second. Her the straps of her dress were tugging down, bearing her shoulders, slouching down with every word. "You know that I don't like him, but it's not ideal, but I talk to Dad about this and …"
She shrugged as if her future were not in the balance, but I knew her; she was a decent liar when she wanted to be. Then the justice of it shocked me; her father loved her to the bone; he cared about her opinion more than anyone. And I knew he wasn't opposed to her choosing a husband.
Flexing my hands, trying to grip hold of this emotion and hold on. "I thought that your dad would be giving you a waiver with choosing a husband."
She laid her back towards the concrete encasing the plant. "Victor is different. He's more… persistent."
Something encased with that word note fear?
"Tell me if he is hurting you." I did not say it as if it were a question. It was a promise. Because if he were hurting her, it would not be an option… that I would consider.
Her bright eyes glared at me as if installing herself with unspoken words: "Promise me one thing in exchange."
"What?"
She turned fully to me in her hands, holding one rose unclipped from all its forms, thorns bare to the world. "Kiss me."
I opened my mouth to disagree, but she just shook her head, and please, I breathed out, inching closer towards her and feeling my breath on her neck. Right now, she didn't really know who I was, so it could be okay just to steal this one moment. I cupped her cheek in my large hand, bringing it to my mouth, chasing the taste of her with my tongue and gulping it with one breath. She visibly shook as she tried to reciprocate, but I pulled away. She grabbed my hand, "Don't stop it. Don't stop me from going through this."