His Weakness
“How dare you pretend to care about her now that she is gone,” Rafael spoke with his teeth gritted, his voice although low, was laced with anger. “If I remember correctly, not once did you leave your chambers when she was being given away in marriage.
The third prince rarely made an appearance. Maybe once or twice in a year. But Rafael was aware that he was aware of every situation and that he was a follower of the crown Prince. He was like a snake, seeking alliances on both enemies' sides.
“Aye. Relax, brother.” The smile on Soren’s face disappeared, replaced by a scowl. He closed the distance between them so that he stood only a few inches away from Rafael. Cocking his head slightly to the side, he continued. “You are not a saint either. You watched it happen. Now that she’s dead, we should forget it and move on.”
“You know the truth.” It wasn’t a question. Both princes stared at each other as if trying to read what was on the other’s mind. They didn’t mind the eyes that stared their way or the whispers from the guests at the ball. “You know what happened to the princess.”
“Of course I do. Childbirth. She died because of the trash she was trying to deliver."
Rafael let out a chuckle. “I see you’re still as daft as I remember.” As he said that, Soren stepped backward and tore his gaze off Rafael. “Perhaps even more foolish and readable.” He took a step forward. “Did you forget I can read you like a damn book? Certainly, you know that. The princess’s death is no coincidence and believe me, I can force that answer out of your throat in an instant… but I wouldn’t do that.”
He heard the third Prince gulp down a lump in his throat with his eyes roaming everywhere but him. He had a guilty expression on his face yet he didn’t back down. Swallowing hard, he forced his eyes to glance at Rafael only to pull it off again as if his gaze had burned him.
“If I find your involvement in this,” Rafael continued. “I’ll make sure you pay.”
He was about to retreat backward after his threat, but his brother’s next words caused him to pause.
“The second princess is gone forever. You shouldn’t be worried about a dead person or trying to find the cause of death. I believe you have greater things to worry about.”
He took a pause and stared at a certain spot in the room. “Like the life of the little bunny over there.”
For a minute, Rafael wondered what he meant. It was only after he cocked his head to look behind him only to find no trace of his wife did he traced Soren’s gaze. His eyes darkened and the wind thickened when his eyes caught sight of Elora a few meters away.
And she wasn’t alone.
She was with a man. Not just any man, it was the Viscount Dean. The man whom she’d regarded as ‘kinder.’ A word that still threw him off the edge even after so many days.
He watched as Elora smiled at something the Viscount whispered into her ears, her cheeks reddening like a cherry. She tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled even further while conversing with the man.
His blood boiled.
He remembered how he’d warned her not to leave his side. Yet, she’d disobeyed him for a thwart. How crazier could she drive him with her stubbornness?
“I see. You finally have a weakness, Brother.”
And then Rafael felt a woosh of air brush past him, his brother disappearing out of sight. He pulled his gaze to the spot where Soren had once stood.
Weakness? He thought. The word was never in his language book. It had never occurred to him. He was the only existing half blooded vampire. He had no weaknesses. He had defeated almost a thousand soldiers in the previous war a few years ago. He’d avoided anything that threatened as a weakness to him. The princess surely could not be a weakness to him. She was a mere human, one he would discard once everything was said and done.
Yet he glowered when his eyes as if in contrast with his mind turned to catch the Viscount tuck the stubborn strands of hair to the back of his wife’s ears. And she… she didn’t stop it. In fact, she looked as if she enjoyed the attention he gave her.
His mind flashed back to her words that day. She’d called him a kinder man. Could it be that….
Before he could process the thought, his legs began to move toward them. He swarmed through the guests, ignoring them as they greeted him. Snatching a filled glass from a server’s tray, he reached Elora and pretended to lose grip on the glass, causing the contents to pour on her dress.
“Oh my,” Elora gasped.
“Shite,” he faked a groan. “Forgive me.”
The viscount had a worried expression on his face. “Lady Elora. Are you well?”
He attempted to hold Elora’s hand and examine her but Rafae beat him to it. He stepped before him and pulled Elora to his side.
He examined the side of the skirt that the liquid had touched. “Are you okay?”
“I’m…I’m fine. I’ll go clean it off in the restroom.”
“I’ll go with you,” Dean butted in. “I know the corners of this…” He clamped his mouth shut when Rafael cast him a glare. He was beginning to piss him off. How dare he try to seem kinder to his wife? Thinking of it carefully, it could be his intention. The Viscount was known for pulling women with his good looks and kind words.
His glare deepened even further and Dean took a step backward, his head lowering in resignation.
“Come, darling. Let me take you there.”