Sweet Tooth

I eyed him shortly before sitting. He adjusted the chair properly for me, then took his seat.

I glanced at the delicious setup and found myself salivating already.

"Is there anything to your liking?" Drevon asked.

I stretched my hand for a cream puff.

"Ah…the sweet tooth."

I shrugged. "Don't judge a lady for her choices."

"I'll not," he promised.

"Hmm," I hummed and took a big bite. It's as tasty as it looked! I gave a satisfying moan as the flavors melted on my tongue.

I rarely had any pastries, mostly Fiona's leftovers and my regular two-day meal, which was no different from what the maids had. This was a nice change.

"I still cannot shake the image of you wearing that nightgown."

I swallowed far too fast, taking a moment before I glared at him for ruining my bliss of sweetness.

"That's too bad, my liege, I had it burned." I took another bite and licked my fingers while watching him like an aggressor.

I might have annoyed him, but so far, I didn't care anymore; my fate was already in the hands of the gods since the moment I cheated him.

"I can have more made, many more."

"I'll burn them all."

Drevon snickered. "Why so defensive?"

"I'm not defensive if I'm trying to counter your inappropriate remarks."

"Inappropriate? Is it wrong to think of my wife…" he drawled, eyes decently eyeing my body, but it felt as if he'd burn my clothes off. "...bare?"

I almost sputtered in response, but I found the courage to remain poised. "I'm not the type of woman you bed, so I can't say anything on that matter." I took more pastries and filled my plate. "It's alright, you've got such wild taste."

I recalled the way Rose was dressed, and it suddenly made me wonder if he liked women with more flesh on their bones and impeccable shape.

Great, my mood is ruined. I blame myself for that.

"That's where you're wrong, little wife."

I dragged my eyes back to him. "Am I?"

"Yes, because ever since I laid eyes on you, I've desired nothing else," he conceded bluntly.

My face morphed into awe as I allowed his words to sink in.

He continued his recount. "There you were, shivering. And I thought to myself—I should take my cape off and cover her, but it's tainted with the remnants of battle, and I didn't want to tarnish such a glow. Nonetheless, it was mostly because I thought you weren't real, so I had to touch just to make sure, and when I did..."

Drevon leaned away from his seat, toward me, until our faces were inches apart. "I still didn't believe you were, but you were right there, existing yet so unbelievable. Then I made a decision that went against everything."

"What?" I had no idea where I found the voice to speak, I was too overwhelmed, for I knew there was no lie in his words, even when I wanted to convince myself so.

"I came to Beloria to conquer it. The vampires were sluggish to do so for centuries, and the Archduke gave me the opportunity I needed."

What in the name of all the gods did he just say?! He never entertained the idea of a marriage alliance?

"W-Why did you change your mind?"

An irresistible smile spread on his fine lips, and he uttered one word that changed everything. "You."

My heart skipped a beat, and I forgot to breathe for a moment. Drevon monitored me with a far deeper passion than I had ever seen.

I found myself melting, faster than any thought of defense I could muster.

Yet, I blinked away, preventing the process before it had the chance to take root. "Such sweet words you have, my liege. Perhaps you should be a poet."

If he truly spoke the truth, does it mean that Beloria should have been erased?

I inwardly smiled. That country deserved what they had coming for them. They should be grateful for my sacrifice, because of me, Beloria will strive and take back its lost lands, and Fiona will marry the man of her dreams, they will all have their happy ending.

All because of me. The bastard daughter.

My looks darkened as a feeling coiled my insides. Am I a cruel person for wishing bad upon them? To wish doom for the country that never liked my existence?

No matter how much I searched my soul, there was no kindness I could offer for that place. It's depressing.

"You wound me, little wife."

My lashes fluttered as I was brought back to reality. "How so?" I met his eyes again.

"Because I'm no poet."

I swallowed a forming lump in my throat. "You confuse me, my liege."

"How so?"

"With everything," I narrowed my eyes. I tried to make sense and not lose myself to modest words.

"Eloise," he muttered softly, placing a hand under my chin. "I'm not making any jest. I'm a man of my word, I swear this in the name of the moon goddess."

Don't fall for it.

His hand moved and brushed away the curls framing my face. "Have I told you how much I adore your hair?"

I said nothing, just gazing upon him like he was some alien that had been created from dreams.

"There's no way you do, I don't even like it." I looked away from him, suddenly upset.

"Why?"

"That's a personal question."

"Is it wrong to ask my wife such a question?"

Ugh! Why does he always play that card? Because I find myself surrendering out of duty.

"That's not fair."

He grinned in reply, and something told me he did that on purpose.

Fine!

"From where I come from, such hair is scorned because I'm…"—I paused, choosing my words wisely—"Different. It's difficult living that way."

He listened, quiet and engrossed. I found myself telling more.

"I tried cutting it once, and I must say I'm not a very good hairdresser." I forced a smile. "It grew out with the silver blue ends, I can't seem to get rid of it."

I looked away as my eyes stung. I had no idea why I said something like that to him, and I hated myself for that. It felt like I was sharing too much with a stranger.

"My liege, I shouldn't—"

I felt his hand braced at the piled-up curls held tightly by the hairpin. I dragged my eyes back to him, and I found myself doused in those molten crimson eyes of his, highlighted by the rays of light streaming into the tent.

"There's no need to cut your hair out of spite. Ever. Wear it with pride, not because you're different but one of a kind."