Chapter 30

She took her clothes off her face and was astonished by what he had done. He saw him staring at her with a cunning beyond her own. He raised an eyebrow, challenging hearing more of her grumblings or tricks.

She exhaled, throwing her arrows at him, her eyes burning in anger, and she began to wear her clothes with emotion, excused her mission, so she took advantage of that by displaying her charms, and then concluded the show by cursing him with a despicable one.

"Oh, how I've been waiting for this slip from you Celine, just wait till I finish Damian first, and then I'll take care of you."

She rolled her eyes mockingly, "Ah, what are you going to do?"  Will you fight me too?”

"You'll wish!" he smiled, promising to lead her out of the suite.

I sat her on a seat designated for her in the corner of the hall where Damian will be duel. The attendance is limited to the people of the palace, who knew of Damian's action.

Usually such a duel does not end except with the death of one of the duel, but Kayden does not intend to take his brother's soul, it is just a rehabilitation for him and his wife in front of those who witnessed the kidnapping incident and his sustenance from her blood.

Damian entered the room, accompanied by Mark and Larissa, who took her place beside Celine, saluted and sat down next to her in an exploit of silence.

Celine clenched her palms nervously, watching Kayden and Damian facing each other, they exchanged vague glances for a while before they began to disarm and put them on a table next to the wall, and then each handed over his sword, taking a defensive position opposite the other.

She held her breath, unable to stop the noise surging inside her, a mixture of the echo of her heartbeat and the acceleration of blood in her veins, feeling like a time bomb about to explode at any moment.

"Calm down, they haven't started yet, of course you don't want to distract your husband with your anxiety," Larissa whispered to her, watching the husband prepare for a duel.

“I don’t want to be here, I can’t watch any of this,” Celine said sternly, “and did Mark force you to come?” I asked her in a sympathetic tone, not for a moment thinking that Larissa could see anything of violence.

'No, he didn't, but I can't be anywhere else, I need to be close to Kayden so my heart may be at peace with him.'

Larissa's spontaneous response took Celine out of her will, she loses her patience, so she rises from her place, dancing in anger, roaring in a high tone that reached everyone's ears.

All eyes turned to the husband, watching Celine raging in front of Larissa and about to pounce on her, and Larissa shrunk to herself in shock, not understanding the reason for Celine's violent and rebellious reaction, who responded hysterically.  »

Kayden interrupted his wife's revolution before she could utter an irreversible word, muzzling her mouth preventing her from completing her sentence in conjunction with lifting her off the ground and hurrying out of the hall.

She fidgeted in his arms, ferociously resisting his grip, kicking the air with her feet at random madness,

She found nothing but his palm that was covering her mouth in order to pour out her anger on her, so she clenched her teeth on her, biting her with brutality comparable to the overwhelming anger in her hollow.

Cursing Kayden, he feels her teeth clenching into his palm in a brutal way he hasn't promised her before, but he only releases her when he gets her to their ward.

He freed her teeth from his grip, watching the torrent of his blood fall on the antique Persian carpet, and she turned to him and faced him with a mouth swimming in his blood, jumping with anger, so he shouted:

"Calm down, what on earth happened to you?"

She passed her palm over her mouth, wiping away the traces of blood oozing with him too. “I don’t want to see you joust Damian, no, I don’t want, and I hate Larissa, I hate her so much and I’m jealous of her, I am jealous of all those centuries you spent together, I am jealous of the books I bought for her and the paintings I made for her.”  .»

She raised her forefinger at his face, screaming, her throat filled with compulsion and jealous jealousy. "You didn't even tell me you were painting. You didn't give me a single painting. You didn't give me anything at all.  Tell me, and do not say because I am more beautiful than her, because I know that I am not. I want the whole truth, and do not lie.”  She shouted her last sentence in a wounded tone tainted by determination.

Kayden stood in front of her watching her revolution, a revolution befitting her, angry, angry, demanding the truth, a fact he wished he would not reveal.

Would you believe the sincerity and depth of his feelings for her if she knew the reason for his marriage to her?

Will she believe that he married her because he loved her and not because she was the only one who could give birth to his offspring?

He sighed with helplessness and anguish, taking a few steps towards her, trying to calm her eruption and extinguish her raging volcano, so she pushed him violently from her, refusing to be near him, but he did not submit to her desire and pulled her into his arms by force, rushing behind his urgent need by reminding her of his love and need for her, and that he is here with her and her, no matter what happens and whatever happens.  And he will not acquiesce in her request to part, for whatever reason.

She resisted him with all her determination and strength, pushed him away, screamed and rebelled, kicked him with her feet, waved in her arms, erupting like a raging volcano, ready to burn everything that crossed its path.

He tightened his fist around her body, trying to stabilize her. She kicked, kicked, and cursed him until she was overwhelmed by fatigue and exhaustion.

He waited for her breathing to catch up a little, then loosened his fist a little and whispered to her:

“I forced Larissa to marry Mark on your wish, just to make you live your life free from doubt and insecurity. What else do you want from that poor woman?”

“I want her away from the palace because she still loves you and wants you.”

Cayden shook his head, disapproving of her request, staring at the top of her head buried in his chest.

She fidgeted in his arms, so he narrowed her down, saying, “And whoever told you that I didn’t give you a painting, I gave you dozens of paintings, but I didn’t know your address to send them to you, so I hid them until you came.”

She was struggling to break free from him, but she came back and recovered the moment she understood what he said, she raised her cloudy eyes and watched him questioningly, her innocent and promised looks hit him to the core, realizing that he would break her heart and soul when he told her the truth, but it seemed that there was no escape from telling her, and he stood pulling her with him from the ground.  He grabbed her little palm and pulled her back downstairs.

He took a detour to his office, and from there he stood in front of the gigantic stove. He moved the operating knob, and the stove opened, split in half, revealing a stone staircase in the middle.

He took her hand again and led her into the narrow basement, whose lights gradually began to appear.

After a slight hesitation, he opened it and invited her to enter in front of him, so she turned around to be able to see something in the midst of the deep darkness, and as the lights illuminated the place at once, startled, she snatched her breath from the horror of what appeared in front of her.

She stood in the middle of the room stunned, unable to express any reaction to what she saw around her, she gasped trying to regain her composure, watching her surroundings in astonishment, dozens of paintings, stacked along the width of the walls, paintings of her, of her alone,

Her expressions of panic covered her features, her while she was sleeping, sitting in the sun, smiling meekly, and another with sad, teary eyes, and another with different clothes through the ages, as if she had been present in every period of time that Kaiden lived, long dresses dating back to ancient times, there are even paintings of her in the bathroom where she met  Its the first time.

Kayden stood watching his wife watching her surroundings with amazement tinged with shock, as if she could not comprehend what she was seeing.

She always stood between him and Larissa with confidence and pride, imposing her presence by force, and still is until now.

He let her watch her surroundings without interrupting her, as she would need months and months to study the details of each of these paintings, which was inspired by a single scene that was repeated in his imagination, the scene of the bathroom where the fortune-teller foretold him to see her for the first time, bringing it back every time he holds the chain with his fist.

He lay on a comfortable sofa, which he had specially placed in the room to be used whenever he wanted to seclude himself, spending it contemplating the paintings, as the hours passed without noticing, waiting for her to come to him by herself with her flesh and grease, and not just an illusion he saw through time...

I approached him, immersed in his embrace, and muttered with glee, "I don't understand anything, how do you draw me when you haven't met me yet."

He held her in his two arms possessively, kissing her forehead tenderly, savage pain, cruel and violent, sweeping over him.

He lost it before he lost it.

“First of all, I want you to know that your difference is what distinguished you from any other female I knew before, and it is the reason that made me fall in love with you and your love. You are a very special and very different female and my love for you is as special and different as you are.”

He told her to remind her of his love for her, not wanting her to forget as soon as she heard the truth, adding, "Celine, please, no matter what happens, don't doubt the size and sincerity of my feelings towards you."  Three and a half centuries ago, when I refused to believe her prophecy, she showed me the scene of our first meeting in the bathroom, my wife sent from heaven, the only able daughter of the sun....” He was silent, unable to complete his sentence, afraid of her reaction.  The reaction will be...

"Able to what?"  I asked him to play with his shirt buttons

“Able... to give birth to my offspring”

He whispered, feeling her stiffness against his.

She raised her face, watching him questioningly, or trying not to understand, rather she did not want to understand, and quite calmly she freed herself, withdrawing from his arms.

She stood in front of him, watching him for a long time, in silence that exhausted him, and with her lips parting in a wide smile, she snorted laughing, laughing hysterically, raising her head up.

She giggled, agitated at her misfortune that mocked and tampered with her as he wanted, at the love that foolishly won her, at the mighty attitudes that destroy all our dreams with a word to be said or not to be said.

He stood trying to reach her, stunned by her unexpected reaction, afraid for her, so she raised her palm to his face to stop him, she tried to stop the hysterical laughter that seized her, muttering amid her sobs:

“Oh, needless to say more, I got it, yes, now I understand,” I told him, laughing deeply, adding, “If I hadn’t been the only one who could have your children, you wouldn’t have been waiting for me all these centuries, but you would have gotten rid of me without hesitation as soon as you found me, I wouldn’t have been  To give me an opportunity to prove to you that I am not like my successors, you would gladly cut off my head and throw me away without the blink of an eye.”