Chapter 102 - The Painting
"Where have you been?"
The question definitely did not pass through her brain for proper processing and thinking before blurted it right out of her mouth.
It felt too embarrassing to acknowledge that she had indeed said that without thinking, so she refuse to turn and look at him, scared that she might find a contented look on his face. It wasn't like she cared about him. She just wanted to confirm what Gwen had said. It was relevant to her mission that she knew his whereabouts. It would certainly help her in finding out how to feed the content of the tiny bottle to him.
How?
Well, that wasn't necessary right now. She would figure it out along the way. What she knew was that it was important that his whereabouts were known to her and that was that.
"Why? Did you miss me?"
"No." She answered way too quickly.
It was the bond. It was the influence of that thing that was making her stupid. He didn't matter to her. He never would.
He hummed slightly before he spoke again. "I see the painting interests you."
He was standing behind her, a little too close because asides from the way his scent flooded her brain, she could hear his voice vibrating as he spoke and the goosebumps that laced her skin was annoying, the fire that lit in her veins needed to just not do that.
"You painted this?"
"My mother did."
His mother.
She blinked, staring intently at the painting.
"She has quite the talent."
"She did."
"I like the stars." She said in a light-hearted, already feeling comfortable and forgetting her need to put her guards up.
"Which one do you like the most?"
She smiled, looking at the glittering things on the painting, trying to pick the one that interest her the most. "All of them.
He chuckled. "Then you must like my name."
She looked back quickly before looking away immediately, her heart leaping at the sight of him.
"D-do you paint?"
She stuttered. Why did she stutter?!
"A little."
She felt him draw closer and she tensed up.
"It's been a while but I think I can paint you." His hand moved slightly above her hair, picking some strands inbetween his fingers. "I think I can find the right shade for this."
"It's black."
"There are different types of black. This has a blue tint to it." He paused slightly before he continued. "Deep blue."
She chuckled, her nervousness slipping away, like it was never there to begin with. "Do you have other paintings?"
"Mine or my mother's?"
"Both." She declared, her excitement hard to hide.
"Will you like to see them?"
"Right now?!" She looked back at him, reaching for his hand, her eyes glimmered with excitement then she caught herself.
What was she doing?
She frowned, realizing she was enjoying the conversation. She immediately blamed it on the mate bond as usual but somehow it didn't feel like it was the mate bond's fault this time. The mate bond most of the time usually deals with sexual needs and cravings, and this wasn't sexual.
She cleared her throat awkwardly.
Finding something else to blame this on.
Ah! Her mission. She was only doing this because her mission required it, not because she felt like talking to him, nor because the sound of his voice made her feel completely at ease, his presence wasn't something she particularly enjoy too either.
This was strictly for her mission, nothing emotional. There was simply no way that she would have feelings for him that were not influenced by the bond or anything else.
It was impossible.
He was her enemy.
The happiness in him deflated as she pulled her hand away from his. Right there he had thought they were getting along. He had been happy about that but it had quickly been confirmed that he was, yet again, wrong. Maybe she was angry because of what had happened in the room that night, besides he still hadn't apologized yet.
Gwen had taught him many things and one of those things was that apologizing mattered when one had done something wrong.
Gwen and all those tiring books that he had to read.
They were largely boring, yet he couldn't deny that they had been helpful.
He had wanted to apologize the very next morning after the incident, but there had been an issue with the traitors in his Kingdom.
Dens, so they called it.
One of his Generals suspected that they were raising and he had to quickly look into it. It was surprising that Laura hadn't been the one to bring it to his notice.
A den of them had been executed already. It had fed his bloodlust and calmed his anger, with the amount of souls he had seized and devoured. Although, the fact that he still had people wishing for his father's presence instead of his, felt seriously bothersome.
The only thing keeping him were the people by his side and hopefully, soon enough, his mate would be one of them.
"I am sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have been aggressive with you. I won't say that I will try to understand why you keep placing the unwor--" he paused, recollecting himself, "them over me. But still, I shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. Forgive me."
Zezi's frown deepened, as she turned his words over in her mind.
He should stop saying the right things! He had to start giving her more reasons to hate him instead of this!
After a while, the King shifted one feet to another.
Wasn't this the part where she would accept his apology? All his training and he still had no idea what to do next.
Feeling at a lose, he turned and started walking away. He would just quickly take a look at that book and come back.
"I'm sorry too."
He stopped dead in his tracks, throwing her a puzzled gaze.
Did she just apologize to him.
"Ever since I came here, I have hated you without knowing you. I have been after your life."
He frowned.
"Your soul. Whatever makes you die." She shrugged and a smile broke across his lips.
"I have never given you a chance and you have tried your best to be understanding with me."
He frowned, stepping towards her, his eyes searching to see if she had any lethal weapon on her. He wasn't worried about him, he was worried she was about to harm himself, like the last time she had tried to pull a fast one on him for her unwor--those wolves.
"Ah, my words are so strange you consider them suicidal."
He relaxed.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. It's my fault."
She took a couple of steps towards him.
"I want to you give you a a chance."
He froze, rasing a questioning eyebrow at her.
"A fair chance." The words sounded foreign to even her own ears and it was as if she wasn't the one speaking them.
But it was her voice and those were her words.
"I will stop fighting you and I will try to make this work too."
He froze, then the next minute, he held her head in concern.
"I have to call the physician."
"Your Majesty."
"You are sick." He declared. "Sickness of the mind," he added horrified.
"Not--"
"You hit your head, didn't you?"
"I didn't."
"You don't have to lie to me, Zezi."
It was so good to hear him say her name again.
"I'm not."
He paused, then and he looked at her. Really looked at her.
Then he pulled her into an embrace, his cold body against hers, seeping out warmth moments after, the fabric of his robe soft againt her exposed arms.
Her hands went around him instinctively, she felt a urge to pull him closer till he dissolve right into him, or her into him, whichever way. They just had to become one because holding him like this didn't feel enough.
"Thank you."
She could hear a glimmer of tears in his voice and her eyes watered.
When he pulled away, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She had never seen his black eyes glassy before. Her fingers moved the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead, feeling the need to touch him.
"I must go now. I will show you the paintings later, I promise."
He was leaving? Already?
Why did it seem like these days he was always leaving her too soon?
"Already?"
He chuckled. "I like that. I hope to hear it more no matter how long I stay with you. I hope you won't get tired of me and everytime I leave, you'd say 'already?'."
She smiled, looking away from him for a brief moment.
"I have something to attend to. I wish I could stay longer but I will be seeing you soon. I promise."
He leaned in, his gaze on her lips, her heart skipped a beat when he leaned in for a kiss but he pressed his lips against her forehead instead, scared that he might be moving too fast with what he had in mind.
Her hands dropped from him, and she watched him as he walked away.
"Wait."
He stopped, turning back to her immediately.
"I still don't know your name."
He smiled. That could easily be remedied.
"Valerick."
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