A Bastard's Allure-Chapter 140: A Lesson About Humans

The die was cast.

Elena’s hands rested on her temple as she watched the votes being counted. The stack against the war was tall, almost shadowing that in favor. The chances of rescuing Gabriel with a human army were bleak. Still, she hoped something miraculous would happen.

The herald placed the last vote on the towering stack of those against the war. Clearly, Elena had lost. There was no need to hear the herald’s melodious yet spirit breaking voice on her failure to rescue the only person that mattered. Instead, she stormed out of the throne hall leaving the council in murmurs.

Gabriel used to say humans were a selfish species. Elena didn’t believe him until now. And how could she not have seen this? From her brother selling her off like some cattle to the council refusing to aid the only person that stood between their life and death. She knew she had to expect the worst from now on.

Her feet took her to Darion’s room. On knocking, she entered and found him strapping a sword around his waist. He was still weak but there was no other way.

"I suppose...," he said, straining to buckle the belt, "your honorable councilmen did you dirty, as expected of humans."

"Vampires say the easiest way to defeat humans is to make them believe they’ll lose something they love. Guess that was true all along."

"We also say your species is the most democratic. As long as you have a royal prick, the vampires are wrapped around your finger."

Elena chuckled at the statement, momentarily.

"I should come with you," she blurted.

Darion smiled. "You are brave and I like that. But your people, these selfish people, they need a leader."

"There’s nothing left for me here. I mean... What good am I as a Queen if I can’t even raise an army to rescue my husband?"

Darion placed his hands on her shoulders. "You’re the last of the Thornharts. If you leave, the whole kingdom will rise against each other in a civil war. Everyone will want to take the throne for themselves."

Elena thought for a while. If she did leave, the possibility of her being dethroned for defying the council’s verdict would be high. Darion’s thesis did make sense.

"I’ll stay," she gave in. "But I’ll have to send someone with you."

Darion’s brows creased before he rubbed his nose in discomfort. "Who?" He snorted.

"The princess of the underworld," Elena whispered loud enough for Darion to hear.

"Of all the creatures, a fucking demon?" He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

"She’s strong and weirdly obsessed with Gabriel. Trust me, I wouldn’t pick her if there was a better choice." She narrowed her eyes at the memory that flashed across her mind.

"Are... You okay?" Darion asked nervously. The state Elena had on her face right now, he’d never seen anything like it. "You don’t have to bring her if..."

"She’s our only chance," Elena said with finality. "I’ll meet you at the stables."

She was about to leave when she halted and turned around to face Darion. "I’m sorry I yelled, and thank you for agreeing to this."

Darion just stared back at her and nodded in affirmation. He watched her retreating figure until she disappeared out of sight.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he poured himself a glass of wine. He savored the taste, every drop of it. This was a suicide mission. He might as well enjoy his last glass while he still breathed.

But his moment was cut short when a knock sounded on the door. ’For fuck’s sake,’ he cursed before he called in.

Drowning the last bit of the wine in one go, he placed the glass on the table and turned to see who had entered. His action of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand suddenly freezed as his eyes bore into the sight before him.

Jophiel stood there, her hand resting on the door she had just closed. Her eyes were fixated on the floor while her other hand played with the dress. Yes, a dress!

She was no longer clad in her maid’s attire but a yellow dress that clung to her figure like a second skin. Her hair was let loose in waves cascading to her back and her face lit.

Darion was lost for words. If the Jophiel he knew was still beautiful as a maid, then this version of her was a goddess!

"Heard you’ll be leaving soon," she said to break the thick silence. Her eyes fluttered and Darion’s heartbeat grew like a wild stallion. The fact that she was avoiding his eyes and acting all shy made her more gorgeous.

"I like your dress," he admitted.

She lifted her eyes to look at him, fluttering those lashes again. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? And to think that he was leaving... this! Why was he so blind all this time?

"You do?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"Her Majesty made me a lady in waiting. Said I had to look presentable," she explained.

’Did she do this on purpose?’ Darion thought.

"I came here first after being dressed. I’m glad you like my dress," she added.

’Is that meant to flutter me? If yes, consider me fluttered.’ Darion monologued. He stood and took a step closer.

"I like your hair too," he said. Instinctively, his hand reached out and put the stray strands behind her ear. He caressed her cheeks and held her face in his hands, their eyes locking.

"I like you too," he whispered, inching closer towards her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her since the moment she walked in. He saw her close her eyes as she anticipated the brush of his lips against hers.

For some odd reason, he couldn’t bring himself to kiss her. How could he have forgotten the way he treated her, yet here she was, throwing herself back into the inferno again. Was she not afraid to burn?

The kiss landed on her forehead instead, jolting Jophiel’s senses to life. She could’ve have sworn to kill him that very moment!