Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 59.2: Twin wounds

They made it down a hallway in silence before Aedion pulled her into a stop, near the ballroom entrance.

"Wen," he called gently. "Look at me. Are you alright?"

He held her hands, balled up tight. Ella looked down, realising her claws were still out, her entire frame trembling with residual violence.

He uncurled her fists, softly running his thumb over her palm, where Moira's bracelet had cut into her skin. Tutting, he massaged her fingers, stiff and achy from the force she'd used.

"Are you alright?" he repeated. Concerned for her, like her injuries weren't from near-mangling someone.

Ella barked out a creaky laugh, stark in the silence of the hallway. She shook her head.

"You should have let me finish," she muttered. "You should have let me rip out her throat."

He hummed, conceding. "I'm sure you could have managed it nicely. However, I doubt Callan would have been happy if he'd had to wage a war to retrieve you from captivity for murdering a Princess of the Crown."

"I don't give a damn," Ella said hotly.

Callan had said she could spit on a prince if she wanted. Was it too much of a leap to strangle a princess? Ella was sure he would have understood.

"I don't give a bloody damn," she repeated. "She shouldn't have touched you. She had no right. Thinking she could speak to you in such a way—"

She cut herself off, closing her eyes tight to pace herself. Her body flushed hot with rage, her fingertips still tingling.

"No, she shouldn't have. She had no right," Aedion agreed, his tone placating. "If I pulled you back, it was only because I did not think her worth getting your hands dirty. It is beneath you."

Ella huffed dryly. "It would have been worth it—just to take her down a notch. And anyway, you can't tell me anything. Not after what happened with that guard."

Aedion shrugged, unapologetic. "He deserved it. I'll be rotting dead before I ever allow anyone to speak to you in such a way. Moira is simply fortunate I refuse to strike the weak. That is all that spares her."

He spoke plainly, not an ounce of hesitation. An undeniable truth—he would defend her tirelessly, come hell or high water.

She knew she would do the same. Had done the same. There didn't exist a world in which she would ever allow anyone to speak ill of him, much less raise a hand against him.

What that said about them, she wasn't sure.

Ella swallowed thickly and nodded. Strangely subdued. "Well, thank you."

Aedion paused for a moment before speaking again, guarded, as if approaching a skittish animal.

"What you heard Moira say—that was all a long, long time ago. None of it is recent."

His words were a sobering dash of reality. An ugly reminder of what had happened before the events of the gallery.

Ella tried for a casual tone, looking somewhere to the side. "It's alright, no need to explain anything to me. I merely intervened because it didn't seem like you wanted her advances. As for what you do willingly," she shrugged stiffly, her chest hurting. "Well, it's none of my business, is it?"

She tried to pull away, eager to leave with some dignity intact. Aedion, however, firmly held her hand.

He tugged her back, his gaze tense, frustrated.

"You don't believe it, do you?" he insisted. "That I would do such a thing?"

Ella looked up defiantly, clenching her teeth to keep her chin from trembling. "What, take up with another woman?" she shook her head, almost choking on the words. "Does it matter?"