Cicatrice

Chapter XI

QUEEN ESTELLE BELSHAW

Grabbing the hem of my long gown, I scurry after father who was booming through the palace. "Father, where are they taking him?" I question, tears dripping down my face. I could not bear the thought of anything bad happening to Eddie, especially because of me. 

Father wouldn't even turn to look at me, he would not say anything to me. Didn't he have the right to ever since I became a queen? It was like he did not care. 

"Father!" I bellow.

He turns around so suddenly, anger on his face. "They are taking that dirty scum far away from this palace," he says through gritted teeth, continuing to walk. The fact that he genuinely thought he could take Eddie away made my blood boil. He had no more authority - I did. 

"You can't do that!" I insist.

"I will do whatever I please, Estelle!" he howls.

Turning him by the shoulder, I shoot daggers at my father through my eyes, a look that was extremely rare for somebody like me. A sudden rush of power takes over my body, and I feel as if I can control the world, and that was because I could indeed.

"I am the queen, father. I have the final say," I state blatantly with fire in my eyes. This wasn't a question, it was a demand. If father made me queen, he'd have to treat me like one. With pure shock, he stares, but he cannot say anything because I am right. He dug his own grave and didn't know he was doing so.

"Very well," father murmurs. What I was hearing was unbelievable. Father had always put up a fight, but for once in my life, I thought I had won. "The servant will be imprisoned, and you will have the last say as to what to do," he compromises, and I agree. 

"Now, with that settled, will you go aide to your fiance?"

In the midst of everything, I had almost forgotten that Malcolm was involved, but I could barely care about him - my mind was fixated on Eddie, and I didn't care if he had thrown the first punch. 

As much as I despised to, I obliged.

On the way back up to my suite, I pondered deeply about Eddie. How never in a thousand years would I want him to be exiled from Toulouse or worse - killed at my expense. But I knew things would not go the way I wanted them to - not with Malcolm breathing down my neck like a beast. I knew that from now on, Malcolm wouldn't let Eddie anywhere near me, the queen. 

Subtly knocking on the dark wooden door, it opens slightly where I'm faced with Marguerite dabbing an ice-cold cloth on his left eye, blood smeared across his face. 

"Malcolm-" I whisper.

"What are you doing back here?" he spits, a look of disgust plastered on his face as if he had never wanted to see me again. Making my way closer to my bedroom, I shut the door behind me. Malcolm wasn't the only one who was capable of manipulation. Perhaps kissing his feet was the only way I could get his forgiveness and get out of this dilemma.

"I just want to check on my fiery fiance- you put up quite a fight back there," I say, swaying toward him, the lights dimmed as Marguerite continues to dab his eye. He shoots daggers at me, but I was not ready to give up.

"Marguerite, I can take it from here, thank you," I whisper as she sorrowfully smiles. I take the ice cloth from her hands and scoot behind Malcolm, my lips so delicately close to his cheek as he sits there, quietly. I begin to dab his eye. 

"I'm truly sorry if I insulted you, Malcolm," I whisper tenderly, my lips grazing the side of his face as I hear his breath hitch. I knew the mere way for him to fall head over heels for me was to tell him exactly what he desired to hear. "The manner you fought today convinced me that you ought to be a king," I purr, my torso leaning against his back. 

He swiftly turns his head, smacking his lips into mine, hungrily. He grazes my jaw, pulling me closer as he deepens his kiss. I couldn't have felt dirtier. It was as if I had channelled all of his masculinity for this very moment. He takes my hands, guiding me on top of him where our lips connect once more. Every kiss, every touch we had experienced had made me feel like a dirty pig, rolling in the grass, becoming filthy. 

I did not intend nor was I interested to go all the way with him this night. Instead, I aimed to tease him just enough to prevent him from harbouring ill will against Eddie or me. In a sick way, it seemed as though I was protecting Eddie by doing this. After tonight, I wasn't even sure if he wanted my help.

Malcolms lips reach for the neck, and I try my hardest to pretend its pleasurable. I subtly stop him from tugging the hem of my collarbone as he groans lightly. Every time he touched me felt like I was losing myself more and more. 

"I feel as if we have gone too far, Malcolm. Let's wait until we are wedded," I toy, my forehead on his as I stare into his eyes. He bites his lips and nods. 

Perhaps I had won him over.