Page 32 of Earth Dragon
“This was a mistake,” she mumbled.
“What was that?” he asked.
Her annoyance got the better of her and she turned it full force on him. On his seemingly endless supply of calm control. She wanted to shatter it. “I said this was a mistake,” she repeated, loudly this time.
He furrowed his brow. “Oh.”
That was his only contribution.Oh?She scoffed, pulling the shirt over her head, the breeches already on and sagging around her waist. They were too big for her, even though belts and straps had made them fit snugly.
“Are you… mad?” he asked.
“Yes, of course I’m mad,” she said. At herself. “This is a mess. Why did you kiss me?” She grumbled the last.
“I would have stopped if you hadn’t returned it with such fervor,” he snapped, tossing the covers aside and getting out of bed.
“Fervor?”
“Are you denying it?” he exclaimed, walking stark naked into the room.
Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.
She grabbed a belt off the floor, wrapping it around her waist, eyes on the buckle as she started to thread the leather through the metal.
“That is my favorite belt,” Ewan declared. “You wore the other one yesterday.”
“I do not care,” she said, keeping the belt on and tackling her boots next.
He watched in silence. “So that we’re clear, you wish us to pretend this never happened,” he said.
Her hearts stopped beating.
“I do,” she stated, pulling the second boot on and stomping her foot into it as it was, unlike all the rest of the clothes, half a size too small.
“Splendid. We are seeing eye to eye then,” he said. “It was indeed a mistake.”
“Yes. It unnecessarily muddles things, wouldn’t you say?” she asked.
It did. This was the right course of action. He was clearly an absolute asshole, and he did not care about her even a little bit or wouldn’t he fight for her? He did not trust her, and he never could. This might not have been solely about her looks, going on how he had made her feel the night before. As though she was more. As though she was everything.
But even so, it had most certainly been about control. And she had given all of it to him without thought. Submitted, as though she couldn’t see farther than the foot of his bed.
She had lost her head, when she typically let it guide her in all things.
“The agreement stands?” he asked.
Of course, that would be what he cared about.
“It stands,” she said.
But with one twist at the end that he would not see coming. Before her ‘love’ had secured the completion of the trial and a crown on both their heads, she would find the opportune moment, and she would make her escape. If she took herself out of the equation, then surely her father would lose whatever upper hand she had secured him. Perhaps it was the cowardly thing to do, but she could see no other solution. She would run.
“I shall need a dress,” she said. “Or would you rather I stay in my room and avoid the hubbub of this evening?”
“No, of course,” he said. “I shall have a dress brought to your rooms immediately.”
“I have no time to get ready,” she said. “I may not be as well put-together as would be expected.”
A year ago, the thought of not having at least four hours to get ready before a function would have made her refuse to go. Now, she didn’t even care. She would have no touch of makeup on her pale cheeks, no coal to line her eyes. She would barely have had a wash. Part of her wanted to crawl into her own bed and sleep for a week, but another part stood defiant in the face of those who would judge her.
