Marry or Kill

47

M I N A

Abandoning Atticus where he lies, I push through the crowd, eager to find my way around the building. My heart skips a beat when I realise the ballroom is still busy—people laughing and chatting, unknowing about what's going on.

If Atticus is knocked out, someone will notice, and that means I need to leave. And quick.

As I manoeuvre through the crowd, I catch sight of Evander, his sharp gaze fixed on me like a predator tracking its prey.

I make a deliberate effort to avoid him, but when I turn my head around, it's apparent he's hot on my trail.

My dress trails behind me like a dark pool as I dart into a corridor. Panic grips me as I glance over my shoulder once more. My feet pound against the floor, the echo of my heels reverberating through the dimly lit corridor like a dark chant.

Sensing Evander's presence behind me, lurking in the shadows and trailing my every move, sends a shiver down my spine.

I press on, my pace quickening, until a chilling voice echoes down the hall, its dark resonance bouncing off the walls with such force that it feels like the very foundation might crumble beneath my feet.

I freeze in my tracks.

"You will assist me in taking the bounty off my head," Evander booms, and I pivot to see his eyes locked onto mine like a layer of ice has frozen over.

The edges of my mouth, shaded in deep red, twist into a sinister smile. "Do you honestly think I'd ever stoop so low as to help you?" I take a slow step forward. "After you insulted me in front of everyone?"

Shifting slightly, Evander moves onto his other foot—he must have not expected this from me."This bounty serves no purpose but to escalate the feud between The North and The West," he replies. "It's simply shortsighted."

I tilt my head slightly to the side. "Do you always insult people without meaning to?"

"Do you find offence in everything, even when none is intended?" Evander counters.

A laugh ripples through me, stroking the anger in Evander. "The feud between The West and The North has always been present, with no resolution in sight," I reply. "Because of leaders like you and Atticus."

"Do you truly believe Elias possesses the qualities of a commendable leader?" he asks. I hesitate for a moment, before he opens his mouth again.

Evander, shrouded in the dim light, lets out a soft, mocking laugh underneath his breath.

"Despite being my son, or someone I only share blood ties with according to him," he adds bitterly, his voice steeped in anger, "he has aggressive traits. A single misstep, and everything crumbles under the weight of his temper."

That's big coming from him.

"Why should I entertain your opinions when all you have done is create chaos?" I ask, a hint of amusement colouring my words as I acknowledge his hypocrisy.

Evander, fueled by alcohol-induced rage, has always been volatile—his own jealousy and desires leading to his downfall.

"Such coldness," he slyly comments. "The North will corrupt your character more if you're not careful."

A brief pause of indecision grips me. "The North offered more than The East ever did for me."

"Your father never pushed you into leadership, even when you resisted," Evander replies with a shadowy grin. "That's a privilege not everyone has."

"My father then traded me off as a wife because I refused to take on that role," I seethe.

"And provided the opportunity to kill Elias in the process."