His Forsaken Luna-Chapter 94: Tea time (2)

The mention of my engagement to Eryx hit like a blow to the stomach. I stiffened, my hands curling into fists beneath the table. Deyanira saw it. She always saw.

"He will behave," I say, looking to Kharis sternly. He holds my gaze, those eyes darkening, his frustration apparent but his eyes and head drop.

Deyanira watches us, her brows tugging down into a frown but her mask of amusement falls back into place. "How does it feel?" Her honeyed voice does not fool me. She sips from her cup, looking at the one I have not drank from in a while.

"How does what feel?" I ask lightly as though lifting the cup to my lips didn’t cause my insides to burn and shrink. Kharis’ body tenses but he refrains from doing anything. "Mother, you should speak your words more clearly."

The bottomless pits of Deyanira’s dark eyes gleamed back at me. It was a comment she always handed to me when I’d stumbled over words. The good thing from these interactions is that I grew a backbone and knew when to pick my fights.

I feign another sip and shiver ripples across my body at the taste, a mere trickle enough to dull my senses.

"How does it feel to soon be that Barbarian’s plaything?" Deyanira asks, those onyx eyes flicking to Kharis, goading him. It was also for my benefit, to test the waters about mine and Eryx’s relationship.

My cup lowers as I realise, Deyanira has been more cut off from everyone than I thought. She only knows what her spies have informed her of. Eryx announced our engagement, we are a loving couple in their eyes.

As she has only had her spies, Deyanira has called me here, for one last game before her short ’trip’ away and to gauge my reactions. She cannot judge the relationship from afar. Is it real, or is Idalia afraid of Eryx which is why she came forward and aided him and the Southern Weres when doubt fell on them after the attack.

I had seconds to decide whether to act the lovesick chosen mate or the scared one. Which would be an advantage when dealing with Deyanira?

If I was lovesick then Deyanira would deem me a fool and someone still easy to manipulate.

It would be more realistic if I was worried and scared about being mated to Eryx which was why she used the term Barbarian. She knew I was no fool, and had helped strategize with Alaric at times—she didn’t know to what extent I played a hand in this role however.

"Plaything I may be..." I say slowly, watching her expression carefully. "But the peace of our people fall on it." I didn’t want to be seen as the lovesick pup nor the scared one. No, this time I wouldn’t play a role but my own.

Deyanira pondered my words, took in my expression as her blood red lips tugged up into a cruel smirk before she glossed it over and acted softer. "I could help you."

Dangerous words, Queenie. "How?" My head tilts, assessing her openly. She doesn’t like that. Her expression darkens. I can’t help the thrill I feel from it. It was a dangerous game, revealing myself like this especially with the poison working its way through my veins.

"How could you possibly help me?" My tone of voice one of condescension. Deyanira lowers her cup, those sharp eyes narrowing slightly, her black painted pointed nails clacking on the saucer."You have been banished to the Summer Palace."

The tension sucked the air out of this freezing glasshouse as we stared at each other. The clacking of her nails the only sound between us. If I look for too long I’d say she almost didn’t have the white in her eyes. But I blinked and they returned to normal.

The poison must be giving me hallucinations. It didn’t usually but perhaps Deyanira did give me stronger dose. Something to remember her by while she was away. Goddess I hope it didn’t take the length of her time away for me to recover.

"Banished?" Deyanira laughed, flicking her hand in front of her face like what I’d said was irrelevant. "Daughter you do have a vivid imagination. I have grown weary in these courts and seek for more comforting surroundings. Alaric, such a loving and doting son, suggested I rest at the Summer Palace."

Kharis snorted at the Queen Mother and her twisted words, he tried to hide it with a cough. There was nobody else here to listen to the conversation. Was there any need to act so high and mighty? Act as though Alaric didn’t banish her for the punishments she has inflicted upon me?

Deyanira glared at Kharis. "Maybe the Southern Prince’s dog should be taught a lesson."

"You will not lay a hand on my guard," I say sternly, my shoulders straightening more, my eyes steely.

Deyanira looked at me, amused by my words. "Your guard? I thought Soren here was your chosen knight?" She gestured at Soren who had been standing to the side, acting like a piece of furniture. How could he among the winter plants? His armour cast little reflections of dazzling light across the ground.

"How quick you discard them," she mused.

My hand fisted in my lap, something she instantly noticed, and enjoyed. "You took him away from me, mother... Eryx provided me with his own protection in the meantime."

"Eryx? My how you two have grown close..." She trails off, her honeyed words no doubt hiding the shards of ice lingering, ready to impale me. "Well..." She flicked two fingers at Soren, ordering him to come closer.

I watched, my heart tightening, my stomach coiling, and blood roaring from the flames flickering along me from either poison or the disgust and anger, as Soren kneeled beside her, kissing her outstretched hand. "I cannot take Soren with me to the Summer Palace. That would be too cruel to take master and pet away from each other."

Her gaze flicked to me then caressed Soren’s cheek. His head moved slightly, his eyes looking down. It was a power pose, to show how she had my knight at her beck and call. "I will miss this face however..." He fingers moved to his lips. "And these skilled lips." Her hand roamed along his armour down to his groin. "And this huge-"

"I’m sure you have enough to entertain you in the Summer Palace," I interrupt, my gaze on her face and not where her hand was cupping. Kharis was stiff beside me, his hand by his hip where his blades had been taken away.

"If we are done here..." I say in a bored tone. "I wish to retire. The past few nights have been daunting since the attack..."

"Ah yes..." Deyanira waved her hand at Soren, calling him off and discarding him quickly. He backed away, his gaze still on the ground, unable to look at me, shame taut in his shoulders. "Do you who attacked the palace? They must have had such weapons to cause such damage."

Her puzzled tone does not fool me. Her spies do not know who attacked us yet. "Who knows... It could be humans or it could be Weres pretending to be humans. There were still rebels in the mountains last I heard..."

The mountains she would be passing soon. Deyanira’s eyes narrows, catching onto what I was truly saying. "You should be careful. This has been pleasant... I wish you safe passage and a restful time in the Summer Palace."

"Ha!" Deyanira sneered at me as a weight fell on my shoulders, my legs growing taught like led.

The silence that followed stretched taut like a wire, and I felt the room closing in on me—the cold, the tea, the endless watching eyes. My temples throbbed as the familiar fog began to settle over me, dulling the sharp edges of my thoughts.

Before I could blink it away, the doors burst open. Alaric’s tall figure filled the frame, his expression as thunderous as the storm clouds beyond the glass.

"Sister!" Alaric burst through the doors, eyes wide, chest heaving from ragged breaths as he looked between me and Deyanira.

"Son." Deyanira rises the same time I do. She waltzes forward to hug him, but Alaric briskly walks past her and takes my hand, ignoring her entirely. "We are leaving."

I am half led and dragged away from the glasshouse, followed by Kharis and Soren, shocked by my brother’s sudden appearance.