F0ck Me Or Kill me, Your Secret Is Safe With Me

2

ELARA

I had exactly three seconds to fix the fact that I looked like I’d just been tossed around by a hurricane before the General decided to execute Julian right in front of me. My heart was pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird, and my skin was still burning from where Julian’s hands had been just a second ago, but I couldn't think about that. I had to be a b***h. It was the only thing I was actually good at.

I didn't wait for the General to ask again. I yanked the door open and shoved past Julian, nearly knocking him over, which was basically like trying to move a brick wall.

"Because he’s a clumsy i***t, that’s why!" I shouted, making sure my voice was loud enough to hurt everyone’s ears.

Julian was standing in the hallway, looking like he wanted to either punch me or throw me back into the room. His tunic was a mess, his hair was sticking up in the back, and his amber eyes were glowing with a look that said I am going to kill you later.

The General didn't look convinced. He looked at Julian’s wrinkled uniform, then back at my flushed face. "Disheveled, Julian? And Elara, you’re shaking. Is there a reason my best guard looks like he’s been wrestling in the mud?"

"He dropped my wine!" I yelled, pointing a shaking finger at the red puddle on the floor inside my room. "I told him to stay by the balcony because I heard a noise, and he came charging in like a brainless bull, tripped over the rug, and soaked my favorite nightgown. Then he had the nerve to tell me it was my fault for being in his way!"

I looked at Julian, daring him to say something. He took a slow, deep breath, his jaw tightening so hard I thought his teeth might actually c***k.

"She’s right, General," Julian said, his voice dripping with a sarcasm so thick you could have cut it with a knife. "I forgot my place. I was so worried about a possible intruder that I didn't realize the Lady Elara is perfectly capable of being a disaster all on her own."

"Excuse me?" I snapped, stepping closer to him.

"You heard me," Julian said, looking down at me with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "You’re a nightmare to guard. Maybe if you didn't spend your time throwing things, I wouldn't have to spend mine dodging them."

The General let out a long, annoyed sigh. He looked between us like we were two annoying kids he had to babysit instead of the daughter of the revolution and a fallen prince. "Enough. Both of you. Julian, fix your tunic. You look like a common thug. Elara, get back in your room and stay there. If I hear another sound, I’ll have you both locked in the barracks together. Maybe a night in a damp cell will teach you both some manners."

"I’d rather sleep in the stables," I muttered, turning around and slamming the door shut.

I leaned my head against the wood, closing my eyes. My whole body was trembling, and it wasn't because I was angry. I was terrified of how much I’d liked it when he’d pinned me against that door. I walked over to my bed and threw myself onto the silk sheets, letting out a long, frustrated groan into the pillow.

A few minutes later, the side door—the one for the servants—creaked open. Mira, my head maid, walked in with a bucket of water and a look that said she knew exactly what I’d been up to.

"You’re a terrible actress, Elara," she said, kneeling down to start scrubbing the wine out of the rug. "And you’re an even worse liar. You look like you’ve been kissed, not like you’ve been arguing."

"I wasn't kissed," I snapped, sitting up and hugging my knees. "He was... threatening me. There’s a difference."

"Mm-hm. And I’m the Queen of the Republic," Mira replied, not looking up. "The General was in the hallway for five minutes after the door shut, listening. He’s not as dumb as you think he is. He’s looking for a reason to get rid of that boy, and you’re handing it to him on a silver platter."

"I saved his life, Mira! If I hadn't yelled, the General would have seen how guilty he looked."

"He didn't look guilty, honey. He looked hungry," Mira said, dumping a bunch of salt onto the stain. "And you look like you’re ready to be the main course. You need to pull yourself together. Tomorrow is the Gala. Your father wants you to look like the perfect little symbol of his power, and Captain Vane is going to be there. You know he’s been asking your father for your hand."

I made a gagging sound. "Vane is a snake. He smells like cheap cologne and bad intentions."

"He’s a powerful snake," Mira reminded me. "And he’s the one who’s been tasked with overseeing the guard rotations. If he thinks Julian is getting too close to you, he won't just report him. He’ll have him sent to the border mines. Nobody comes back from the mines."

The thought of Julian in a mine—away from here, away from me—made a weird, cold lump form in my throat. I hated him, I really did, but the idea of him being gone felt like the world would suddenly get a lot more boring.

"He’s not getting close to me," I lied, even though I could still feel the phantom weight of his body against mine. "He hates me. He calls me a brat every five seconds."

"Because you are a brat," Mira said, standing up and wiping her hands on her apron. "But he’s a man who has lost his kingdom, and you’re the most beautiful thing in the one that took it from him. That’s a dangerous combination. Now, get some sleep. You’re going to need your wits about you tomorrow."

She left, and the room felt twice as big and ten times as empty. I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence of the palace. But it wasn't silent. I could hear the rhythmic clink-clink of Julian’s armor as he paced the hallway outside my door. He was still there. He was always there.

I spent the next hour tossing and turning, my mind replaying the way his voice had sounded when he called me "Prince." I wanted to provoke him again. I wanted to see that fire in his eyes.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I got out of bed, my bare feet silent on the wooden floor, and I walked over to the door. I didn't open it. I just leaned my forehead against it, listening.

"I know you're there, Elara," his voice came through the wood, startling me so much I almost fell backward. It was low, rough, and sounding way too close. "Go back to bed."

"I can't sleep," I whispered, my heart starting to race again. "It's your fault. You’re too loud."

"I'm standing perfectly still," he countered, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Maybe you’re just obsessed with me. It’s okay to admit it. Most women are."

"You are so arrogant," I hissed.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lady," he said. I heard him lean against the other side of the door, and for a second, it felt like he was right there with me. "But remember what I said. Tomorrow, at that Gala, don't let any of those Republic dogs get too close. I’m the only one who gets to ruin your night."

"You’re the enemy, Julian," I reminded him, my voice shaking just a little.

"I know," he rasped. "And that’s the best part, isn't it?"

I didn't answer. I just walked back to my bed, my head spinning. I was supposed to be the one in control, but it felt like the world was shifting under my feet.

~~~~~~

The next morning, the palace was a zoo. Servants were running everywhere, flowers were being delivered by the truckload, and Mira was currently trying to squeeze me into a gold dress that was so tight I could barely breathe.

"Suck it in," she grunted, pulling the laces.

"I'm trying!" I gasped. "I think I’m going to pass out."

"Good. Then you’ll be quiet for once," Mira said, finally tying the knot. She stood back and looked at me, her expression softening just a tiny bit. "You look like a Queen, Elara. Try to act like one today."

I looked at myself in the mirror. The dress was stunning—metallic gold that caught the light, with a deep neckline that felt a little too bold for a "daughter of the revolution." I looked powerful. I looked untouchable.

But then the door opened, and Julian walked in to escort me to the ballroom.

He had a new uniform on, crisp and clean, but the way he looked at me didn't have anything to do with duty. His eyes traveled from my toes all the way up to my face, and he stopped for a long second at my chest. He didn't say I looked pretty. He didn't say I looked like a Queen.

"You look like trouble," he muttered, stepping aside to let me pass.

"And you look like a servant," I snapped back, though my heart was doing a happy little dance in my chest.

The Gala was a blur of loud music, fake smiles, and men in uniforms trying to impress my father. I had to stand on a platform for three hours, nodding like a bobblehead, while Julian stood two steps behind me, his hand never straying far from his sword. Every time a man came up to talk to me, I could feel the energy coming off Julian—it was cold, sharp, and absolutely terrifying.

Finally, it was time for the dances. I saw Captain Vane walking toward me, a smug smile on his face. He was older, with greasy hair and eyes that always felt like they were measuring how much I was worth.

"Lady Elara," Vane said, bowing low and reaching for my hand. "I believe you owe me a dance. Your father was very insistent."

I felt a chill go down my spine. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want him anywhere near me. I looked back at Julian, hoping for... I don't know, something. But he was just standing there, his face a perfect mask of duty.

Vane led me out onto the floor, and the second his hand touched my waist, I wanted to scream. He was too close, his breath smelling like stale tobacco and mint.

"You look exquisite tonight, Elara," Vane whispered, his hand sliding a little lower than it should have. "Your father and I have been discussing our future. I think you’ll find that I can be very... generous to my wife."

"I'm not your wife, Captain," I said, my voice cold.

"Not yet," he smirked.

The dance felt like it lasted a century, but finally, the music stopped. Vane didn't let go of my hand, though. He leaned in, his face inches from mine. "I’ll see you later tonight, for a private toast. Your father has already given his permission."

He kissed my hand and walked away, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I turned to find Julian, but he was gone. He wasn't at his post. He wasn't anywhere.

I pushed through the crowd, my gold dress heavy and hot, and headed for the quiet hallways of the South Wing. I needed air. I needed to think.

I made it to the library, a massive room full of old books and shadows, and I slumped against one of the shelves, trying to breathe.

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself," a voice said from the shadows.

Julian was leaning against a bookshelf, his arms crossed, looking at me with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"I wasn't," I said, my voice shaking. "He’s disgusting."

"He’s your future husband, apparently," Julian said, stepping into the light. He looked furious. "Is that what you want? A man like that touching you?"

"Of course not! But what am I supposed to do, Julian? My father runs this country. I don't have a choice!"

"There’s always a choice," he growled, stepping closer until he was looming over me. "You could have told him no. You could have walked away."

"And started a political scandal? My father would lock me away!"

"Maybe that would be better than being with Vane," Julian said, his voice dropping. He reached out, his fingers grazing the gold fabric of my dress. "Because if he touches you again, Elara, I’m going to kill him. And I won't care who sees it."

"You’d die for that," I whispered.

"I’m already dead," he rasped, leaning in until our foreheads were touching. "I lost my family, my home, and my name. You’re the only thing left that feels real, even if you are a brat."

I didn't have a witty comeback. I didn't have a snarky remark. I just stood there, looking at him, and for the first time, I didn't see the enemy. I saw a man who was just as trapped as I was.

But then, the heavy wooden doors of the library creaked open.

"Elara?"