The Evil Ladies Form An Alliance

CHAPTER 26:I Hope It Was Real

Valerie’s turquoise eyes brimmed with tears, glistening like the morning dew on a spring leaf. She blinked rapidly as if trying to dispel the disbelief clouding her vision. Was it truly him? The man she had been waiting for? Standing before her, disheveled from his journey, his dark hair fell in untamed waves that framed his sharp features. The faint light from the hall lanterns caught the silver color of his iris, making them gleam with an otherworldly allure. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, his jawline strong and defined, and his skin, though kissed by the sun, bore a smoothness that contrasted with his rugged aura.

Her breath hitched as her trembling hand reached out. Fingertips brushed his chilled face, the coolness of his skin a testament to his long ride through the brisk night air. Relief washed over her, softening the tension that had gripped her heart. A gentle smile played on her lips as she stepped closer, closing the space between them. Without a second thought, she threw her arms around him, her slender frame leaning into his broad chest.

“Ashton,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, “welcome home.”

Ashton stood frozen, his body stiff with shock. He could scarcely believe what was unfolding. This was Valerie, the woman who once couldn’t bear to be near him, the woman who had declared her disdain for him with cutting words, now holding him as if she feared he might vanish.

A faint aroma of wine wafted from her, pulling him from his daze.

“My lady,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the chaos within him. “Why are you here?”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression hazy but tender. “Your voice…” she said, her words slightly slurred.

“Pardon?” he asked, confusion flickering in his silver eyes.

“Your voice is so beautiful,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on him as if he were the only thing in the world.

His heart swelled, threatening to betray the restraint he had so carefully cultivated. But then, like a knife slicing through the moment, her past words echoed in his mind:

"I hate everything about you—your shadow, your voice, everything!"

The memory tightened his chest, grounding him in the present.

“You’re drunk, my lady,” he said softly, though his tone carried a trace of melancholy.

She pouted, her lips trembling. “Because you didn’t come home immediately. I wanted to show you…” Her voice faltered as she gestured clumsily at her rumpled gown and smeared makeup. “I wanted you to see me in my beautiful dress, with my hair perfect, my face radiant. But now…” She hiccupped, her eyes filling with tears once more. “Now, you see me like this. It’s so unfair!”

Guilt tightened Ashton’s throat. She looked so vulnerable, so unlike the composed and sharp-tongued woman he had known. Her voice, though rambling, was like a melody he had longed to hear, each word stirring something deep within him.

“My lady,” he began, his voice laced with concern, “you should rest in your room. Please, allow me to call a servant to—”

“No!” Valerie exclaimed, clutching him tighter, her arms firm around his neck. “It’s not right to wake everyone in the middle of the night.”

“But, my lady—”

“Take me,” she interjected, her voice softer now, almost pleading. “Take me to my room.”

Ashton hesitated, his breath hitching. “Are you certain, my lady? I… I cannot enter your room.”

“Who says you can’t?” she countered, her voice a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

“You did,” he reminded her, his tone hesitant.

Valerie blinked, her cheeks flushed with both alcohol and embarrassment as fragments of her previous coldness toward him flitted through her mind. “Th-that was before,” she stammered, her grip loosening slightly before tightening again. “Please… c-carry me to my room.”

Ashton’s chest rose and fell as he struggled with the weight of her literal and emotional words. Finally, he nodded, his resolve softening.

“As you wish, my lady,” he said, his voice quiet yet firm. Carefully, he bent down, sliding one arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, lifting her with ease.

Valerie rested her head against his shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as exhaustion and the warmth of his presence lulled her closer to sleep. Ashton carried her with measured steps, his expression unreadable. Inside, however, his heart was a storm of emotions confusion, longing, and a quiet, aching hope.

Ashton carefully lowered Valerie onto her bed, his movements gentle as if handling fragile glass. Her arms, delicate and frail as if they might shatter at the slightest force, clung to him tightly. The desperation in her hold spoke volumes, refusing to let him go.

“My lady,” he murmured, his voice steady but soft. “You must rest now.”

“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling yet firm. “If I let go… you’ll leave me alone.”

Her words struck him like an arrow in the chest. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, his heart beating erratically. “My lady,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re drunk.”

He tried to reason with himself, telling his racing thoughts that her actions were nothing more than the influence of alcohol. Tomorrow, once the haze of intoxication lifted, everything would return to the cold, distant normalcy she had always maintained. Yet, despite his words, his resolve faltered as her arms tightened around him.

“My lady,” he whispered again, his deep voice tinged with vulnerability. He hesitated, his emotions battling within him before he finally gave in to the longing he had buried for so long. Wrapping his strong arms around her trembling frame, he held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his chest. “You’ve made my wish come true. The truth is…” He paused, his voice catching in his throat. “I’ve always wanted to hold you like this, to talk to you as though we were just… ordinary. Like any other couple. But I know how much you hate me.”

Her body trembled against him, and he felt the wet warmth of her tears soaking through his shirt. She clung to him even tighter, her delicate fingers gripping as if he were her lifeline.

“No!” Valerie cried, her voice breaking with raw emotion. “I didn’t hate you! I never hated you!”

Ashton’s heart ached at her words, but he forced a bittersweet smile. He couldn’t allow himself to believe them—not like this. “My lady,” he said softly, his voice weighed down with sorrow, “I hope you’ll forget everything that happened tonight.”

“No!” she protested, her tears falling freely now.

“If you remember,” he continued, his tone gentle but firm, “then please… forgive me for crossing your boundaries.”

Valerie pulled back slightly, her turquoise eyes locking onto his. They shimmered with an intensity that both terrified and captivated him. “How can I prove to you that I don’t hate you?” she asked, her voice trembling with desperation.

Ashton smiled faintly, though his expression was steeped in melancholy. He shook his head gently. “You don’t have to prove anything, my lady. This is enough for me. I promise to make my presence invisible again, just as you’ve always wanted.”

Her gaze hardened, determination flashing through her tear-filled eyes. “No,” she whispered, her voice steady and resolute. “I want to see you… every hour, every minute, every second. I want to be with you always.”

His heart swelled with emotions he could barely contain, yet he forced himself to push them aside. “You’re just drunk, my lady,” he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his sorrow. “But thank you. Hearing that… even if it’s fleeting, it makes me happy.”

Valerie suddenly loosened her grip, her trembling hands reaching up to cup his face. Ashton froze, his breath hitching as her delicate fingers brushed against his skin. Her touch was soft, yet it carried a gravity that rendered him powerless. Before he could react, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that left him utterly astonished.

Ashton’s mind raced, his body stiff as he grappled with what had just happened. Her kiss wasn’t tentative or shy—it was filled with raw emotion, a declaration louder than words could convey.

“Stay with me tonight,” she whispered against his lips, her voice unwavering and full of command.

Ashton’s breath caught in his throat. For a fleeting moment, he was tempted. The vulnerability in her eyes, the longing in her voice—it called to him, tugging at the depths of his soul. But reason and duty quickly overwhelmed his heart.

Without a word, he stood abruptly and grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed. Wrapping it around her small frame like a cocoon, he ensured she was snug and warm before stepping back. Her confusion was evident, but before she could protest, he bowed his head slightly, his voice low and trembling.

“Goodnight, my lady.”

And with that, Ashton turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Once outside, he leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. His hands clenched into fists as he fought to steady himself. The memory of her touch, her words, her kiss—they would haunt him, lingering like a bittersweet dream he could never allow himself to indulge.