Chapter 19 The Fear Of The Unknown
Chapter 19 The Fear Of The Unknown
“You’re friends with the president’s daughter?” Cillian asked, his tone had humor.
His other hand rested on my thigh, while the other one was on the steering wheel.
His touch left me with heat and urge.
His entire profile was beautiful, exuding gorgeousness at every angle.
“Stacey? Met her at college, she might appear dolled up, but she’s down to earth and funny.”
Cillian nodded. Driving in the middle of the night with him was intimate; it held meaning.
“So how did you find me?” My interest piqued.
He glanced at me for a moment, and my heart raced.
One look, one kiss, and I was falling for him all over again.
“Sloane, have you heard of CCTV cameras?” His inquiry was genuine.
“Are you mocking me?” I retorted, a bit annoyed that I hadn't realized his home had cameras.
“No, Flower, where did you learn to climb and jump like that? You’re the last person that would do that in my mind,” he reasoned out.
I moved my head towards the car window, and blues covered me.
He would never remember, would he? Why am I the only one coming back to the first time we met?
My curse was that I had all the memories, and the pain dwelled in me; the wounds would never heal. I had to learn to live with them.
“Sloane? Are you sleepy?” he asked, rubbing my thigh.
“Just tired.”
I had nothing left to give; I kept bleeding and mourning our love. That feeling of not moving on, that I was the person stuck in time.
Cillian was my greatest love, but today he was my greatest sorrow. And the worst part?
It was never his fault.
Not planned or intentional, just pure bad luck and twisted fate.
The car stopped, and Cillian reached for my hand, helping me to get out.
“How could you be so pretty at night?” he confessed, showering me with compliments.
“I’m not,” I responded, shaking off the harsh emotions spiraling in my head.
He lifted me into a bridal style. “Cillian!” I fought.
“Be still, wife. You said you’re tired, you can thank me later.”
I was sinking. His thoughtfulness was slowly killing me.
Thank him later? A flashback of our intimacy replays in me.
He planted a flick on my forehead.
“What’s that for?” I glared at him, sending daggers through my eyes.
“We have plenty of time making babies, Flower. Tonight, you rest, for tomorrow, you’re no longer an employee.”
I gazed at him, and the haze hit a nerve. “No longer your employee?”
“You’ll be my wife, for real this time.” Cillian lowered me to the bed, like a child being tucked into bed.
“Are you going to read me a story too, Daddy?” I snarled at him.
His face squinted, and his midnight-blue eyes radiated passion.
He dabbed his finger to my nose, clearing his throat. “Stop being cute, Wife, and go to bed, before I—”
I leaned forward, pressing my lips to him. He was stunned, unable to move.
“Thank you for everything,” I whispered, twisting my body away from him.
He touched me on the shoulder one single time. The sound of the closing door was hoping to lull me to rest.
I was wide awake, my senses out of control.
I had a bad feeling that something very unfortunate would happen soon, but I didn't know what or when.
I feared the unknown, and hopelessness clung to me like vermin.
Past
The food was tasty, but my tongue could only take bitterness.
I slid my knife over the meat on my plate, forcing myself to put food in my stomach when, in spirit and truth, I wished to vomit.
Staying at the Grand Palace, far from my home, made me sick and a little lonely. Everything I did here was out of the ordinary for me.
“Is the food not to your liking, Queen?” the royal chief asked.
I forced a smile, and Cillian and his beautiful, judging eyes stared at me with interest.
“Woke up on the bad side of the bed,” I replied, biting at my bland food.
“Is that so? We'll tell the royal staff to offer you a relaxing massage before your first night with the King begins later.”
The grand queen announced the news, breaking it to everyone at the royal table.
“Tonight?” I asked in a shaky tone. My palm was damp with sweat.
“Rinoa, it's your duty to bring heir to the royal court.”
And what do I know about duty? I was never born royal!
My heart broke. Was duty important when I was constantly losing myself?
“Of course, my grand queen.” I was livestock, like a pig in the barn.
The idea of sleeping with Cillian washed me white, all the color of my horizons turned blank.
“The royal court will witness the consummation of your marriage, and for the historian to write it—”
“What?!” I stood up. “What do you mean, witness?”
Cillian growled like the wild beast that I knew he was underneath his royal clothing.
“Sit down. No one disrespects the court on my watch.”
I glared at him; I was not prey for him to circle and make a meal of me.
“Disrespect? The only person who’s disrespectful here is you!” I yelled.
I ignored the gasps in our midst.
“Queen, please sit down,” the grand queen pleaded, her hand over her chest.
“No. Spending more time in your presence will slowly snatch life out of me, and you—” I threw the king a sharp gaze.
“How could you expect to bed a woman without her consent? Like you own all the good damn living things on this planet?!” I accused him; my words were harsh.
Cillian banged the table. “You are reading this out of context, my queen! You are not just a woman, you are the mother of this nation! You are my wife!”
“Are you hearing yourself?!” I yelled. I had had enough of him.
I was suffocating.
“At least I know my place, and it’s time you learn yours.” He pulled himself from his chair and walked away.
“Clear the tables,” the grand queen commanded. “Queen, go to your quarters and rest. We will pretend this never happened, and the plan will proceed.”
Finality coated her ruling. My head couldn't fathom anything.
The rules that I had to follow,
The King and a husband that I had to obey,
The nation that craved my care,
And the life I truly desired vanished.
I was a fiasco, a walking nightmare. There was nothing here worth fixing or saving—
Not even myself.
Our breach was far too broad, and no one could free our souls.