Only A Northern Song ~ Game of Thrones / Willas Tyrell ~

Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: A Mess

Willas remained silent, while Eddmina remained seething. 

She dropped the letter and turned back to the table, only to be greeted once more by... by betrayal.  

She'd certainly been betrayed worse, but in that moment she couldn't think of a single occasion. She'd opened the book out of sheer curiosity after noticing it on Willas' desk for over a week. For a man who read books as quick as some read letters, it was odd for one book to occupy him for so long. She wanted to know just what was so special about such a dull sounding title to occupy him for so long, only to quickly discover that it was nothing to do with the book but what he was hiding inside. 

He had rarely kept secrets from her, not when they were married and not while they were in the middle of whatever strange affair their were enjoying, but she felt overwhelmingly like a fool the longer she flicked through the many documents he'd written as she realised he'd been keeping a ridiculous amount of secrets. He'd been incredibly thorough, to give him credit. There were  multitude of pages written explaining every part of the Lord of Highgarden's role, documents advising what to do about harvests, tenants, and trading, and letters to each of his immediate family members explaining just why he was doing what he was doing.

She didn't bother reading those. She didn't need to. She didn't want to know just how he was justifying such a stupid plan, because to her, it was nothing more than a betrayal. 

Did he think her so weak and foolish that he had to abandon his own purpose to shadow her? Did he not see that such a thing was an undermining insult? He was a clever man, how had he not thought that his plan was a betrayal, or was that his plan all along - get her to trust him again then abandon his own kingdom in the name of taking over hers? Everything she had stood for in the year since inheriting her brother's crown was being insulted, because it was obvious he thought she couldn't be trusted to do a good enough job alone. Why else would he betray his own home and title if not to betray her?

Not that he was acting like it. She'd expected him to return drunker than he seemed, but as she glanced him over, she saw any sort of merriment leave him, a light-hearted smile dying on his face, his eyes sharpening. He let out a long exhale, and offered her a fleeting guilty smile that lasted hardly a moment.  

She could feel something bubbling up inside her, her fingers itching and her whole body tingling as if it needed to do something but couldn't figure out what. Her chest tightened, her head spun, and yet she did not feel conquered by nerves. She was furious, but did not feel the familiar black cloud sweeping over her, ready for her rage to black her out from the world. Her fists clenched and unclenched, her breathing hitched as her gaze darted between each of Willas' carefully crafted documents and letters and then to the man himself.

As she felt like she could barely catch her breath, she marvelled that he seemed so calm. Well, his cheeks were slightly reddened, and he was looking at her with adoring concern, but apart from that, he looked nothing out of the ordinary. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing his curls, and Eddmina hated how handsome he looked, and she hated how he had undone his top buttons around his neck, exposing the skin she had been kissing only hours before that morning in bed, the glint of his silver chain catching in the light. She hated how looking at him made her stomach flip, and she hated just how calm he looked.

He was giving away his kingdom and yet he was stood there looking like he didn't have a single care in the world? He was undermining her, and yet stood there looking as if he wanted to hold her close and kiss her?

That was what made her scream at last, grabbing hold of the closest letter she could reach, balling it up and throwing it at his head. He didn't even flinch as it bounced off his temple, as if he'd been expecting it, which only angered her more. She turned back to the table, her eyes darting over everything he'd secretly ben working on, every night while she slept or looked after their children. What had he been doing, making love to her, whispering sweet things to her, then immediately going behind her back to do the absolute last thing she would ever want? Her skin burnt to the point she nearly tore her gloves off in the desire to scratch at her somewhat-healed hands, but she replaced the thought quickly by sweeping the papers away onto the floor, seizing the book in her hands and brandishing it in the air like a weapon.