Chapter Seven: A lover's War
527 Words
Alexia sat before her vanity, the firelight turning her hair into molten bronze.
She was still in the crimson gown from the ball. She hadn’t bothered to undress yet.
A goblet of wine rested loosely in her hand.
She swirled it slowly, watching the deep red catch the light.
Blood.
Wine.
What did it matter?
To the happy couple, the toasts had said.
She tipped the wine into her mouth and swallowed.
A knock at the door.
She didn’t turn. “Come in.”
The door opened and closed softly.
Footsteps crossed the plush carpet.
She felt him behind her before he spoke.
“Alexia.”
She smiled at her reflection. “Chase.”
He looked tired. His cravat was undone, his hair disheveled. He smelled like smoke and city rain.
“Leave,” he said roughly. “Leave this city tonight. Don’t make this worse.”
Her laugh was soft and cruel. “Darling, it’s already worse.”
He shut his eyes. “She’s innocent.”
Alexia stood and turned to face him. Her smile faded.
“Innocent?”
She set the wine down. Walked to him slowly.
“Do you think that matters to me?”
She pressed a hand to his chest.
He grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t.”
Her eyes flashed. “You don’t get to say that.”
“I’m engaged, Alexia.”
“Forced to be engaged,” she corrected. “By your father. By her family. None of this was your choice.”
He said nothing.
Her voice softened, turned pleading. “Don’t pretend you don’t love me. Don’t insult us both.”
He looked at her. His jaw clenched.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Silence.
Finally, he let go of her wrist.
She slid her arms around his neck. He didn’t stop her.
“You’re mine,” she breathed against his ear. “You always were. Even before that little girl knew your name.”
He rested his forehead against hers.
His voice cracked. “Don’t do this to her.”
Alexia pulled back, eyes glinting with tears she refused to shed.
“I’m not doing anything,” she said, voice icy. “She’s in my way.”
“Alexia—”
“If she weren’t there, you’d be mine publicly. Fully. Legally.”
He swallowed.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” she said.
He couldn’t.
Her fingers tangled in his hair. She kissed him hard, desperate, claiming.
When she finally let go, she was breathless.
“I’m not going to let them take you.”
He stared at her, horror dawning.
“You can’t stop this,” he said, voice hoarse.
She smiled slowly.
“Watch me.”
Later, after he left, Alexia sat back at her vanity.
She wiped her tears carefully.
Applied fresh kohl to her eyes.
She didn’t like crying.
Weakness had no place in love.
If you want something, her mother had taught her, take it. If someone’s in the way? Remove them.
Alexia sipped the wine, imagining Tasia’s innocent face crumpling.
So fragile. So breakable.
She didn’t want to kill her.
Of course not.
She just needed her gone.
For good.
- Writer
