The Villainess was Loved

Chapter Sixty: ‘D’ is for Disaster.

A familiar face.

A smile formed easily on my lips.

“Gods! How wonderful it is to see you!”

I exclaimed, then lifted my arms in a ready embrace only to recall that we were not nobodies in the woods, but he, an heir to a dukedom, while I, a countess to a savage island, subject at every turn, to gossip.

“Sorry, force of habit.”

I explained as I lowered my hands then tucked them safely across my chest.

“What uh, what are doing you here?”

“Me? I thought for sure you’d never be caught dead in such an establishment.”

“Gods, do you think I’m not fancy because I pee in the woods?”

“Wow…that’s… Peeing in the woods isn’t exactly the epitome of civility.”

He responded, a deep chuckle lacing every word he uttered.

I should hate or at the very least be indifferent to Wreigner, but I like his smile.

He looked more handsome that way.

Kat was or perhaps still is convinced that we should have tried dating as teens before adulthood forced its whims on us, but he was in love with Regina. Secondly, every time I close my eyes around him, I see him shaking his head disapprovingly at my execution.

It is an image that, to date, has not escaped me.

Perhaps I don’t trust him, or I like him too much to forgive him.

Either way, I don’t dwell on it because he has his life planned out, and I am not even a speck on that map

“You know, I thought for sure that I could be able to tell whenever you walked into any building?”

“Okay, creepy.”

His hand brushed my cheek when he pushed away the stray strands of hair flying around my face because of the new draft in the hallway.

“Did you change your perfume or something?”

“No, not really.”

I pressed my inner wrist to my nose.

“Still eucalyptus.”

“Hmn…”

“Why, what’s wrong? Gods, did I fart?”

The serious look on his face quickly morphed to a chuckle.

“No, you smell like-,”

“Like cherries?”

“No, like eucalyptus?”

I frowned.

“Wait, seriously…even my farts?”

He smiled so brightly that he had to turn his head away from me.

“I am serious, Arusei.”

“Fine. Fine, maybe I changed the brand of eucalyptus; I don’t know, Kat did the shopping so... Oh! Crap, are you here with the princess?”

His gaze turned uncomfortably to the door he had emerged from.

“She is far from here at the-,”

“So that’s a, yes?”

He paused to look at me, the brown of his gaze wavering.

“Yes.”

“That’s all I needed to hear; I am actually on a date myself. So…”

‘Should I talk about this?’

“With whom?”

His expression turned livid.

Not like one who had just been told a fact in a joking manner to increase dialogue.

“Who are you with?”

His hand dropped to my shoulder, stilling me in my place.

“Haha…okay, settle down.”

I tried to brush his hand off, but his grip tightened.

“Wreigner, you'll leave a bruise on me, and it's summer, for goodness’ sake. Why doesn’t anybody get that?”

“What do you mean?”

He was supposed to let go, drop his hand from my body, then keep a sociable distance; however, his hand trailed to my neck.

His touch was intimate, more than what one would expect from a friend -who they had slept with- and agreed never to discuss their intimacies.

‘Is that even a situation?’

He moved the dress’s attached choker with his thumb then-

“Who did this?”

“Did what?”

I tried to brush the hand on my neck once more, but he did not budge; rather, my hand to any outsider looked as though it was encouraging his caress.

“Who gave you the marking on your neck? Gods, were you assaulted, or did you…?”

“Okay, why does it look as though you wish I were assaulted? Is there something you aren’t telling me, Wreigner?”

“Then how did you get the bruise?”

I tore his hand from my neck, but rather than accept the newfound distance, he stepped towards me.

My hand was still in his; the effect of tearing it from my skin had been that he transferred the hold to my fingers.

“It's an interesting story; I’ll tell you one day, perhaps, when we meet in Springtime’s pub?”

“In the West, you mean? When?”

“I don’t know, maybe when I stabilise things in Clay-”

“Stabilise things in Clay? So how long, a week, a month, a year? How can you expect me to wait that long when, each time I see you, it feels as though you move further away from me?”

‘What the hell is going on?’

“Wreigner, seriously, is there something I shou-,”

I intended to ask why in the hell he was overreacting, all while praying his answer would not point to potential virgin syndrome*, but a familiar dark, deep and brooding voice interrupted.

“This isn’t the right place to act out a lover’s quarrel, now is it?”

‘Rheyes?!’

Wreigner had the same expression on his face as a man who had just been caught cheating. An indication of his fear of the princess. My anxiety, on the other hand, was on a different matter.

‘You are supposed to be in Kranis.’

“I greet the first prince of Norvig Empire.”

I chirped melodiously, using my curtsy as an excuse to break any contact, physical or otherwise, with Wreigner.

The host, guiding the first prince, stood aside to ensure that he was in full view of me.

“I greet the first prince of the Empire,”

Wreigner followed my cue.

“What is happening? Why have we stopped in the hallway?”

A feminine voice followed his greeting.

“Ah, young lord Hyle, a pleasure seeing you here.”

“As for me, Princess Elora.”

‘Elora? The only princess vying for the throne?’

“Annd…please raise your head, I can hardly make you out.”

I lifted my gaze slowly to meet the most beautiful crimson gaze that much resembled the Empress’s; in fact, if Harell was a younger version of the Emperor, she was the younger version of the Empress.

Her hair matched the Empress’s golden blonde, her eyes the colour of deep wine rubies, her lashes long, elegant and blonde. Her mouth was a deep shade of pink that much neared crimson.

Even though her gown was simple, she was enchanting.

“Ah, the Countess of Clay, Countess Evergreen, am I correct?”

“That is so.”

“Ah…then were you two responsible for holding a lover’s quarrel in this, very public, establishment?”

“For lack of better definition, I suppose so. My apologies; we will conduct ourselves accordingly in the future.”

I uttered then bowed again, only this time I tried to slip away to go back to the room Harell had reserved, perhaps the only safe spot in this goddamn restaurant.

A hand gripped mine so tightly that I stilled in my tracks.

“You seem in a hurry?”

‘Rheyes!!’

“Yes, your highness, I am with a partner tonight.”

“Not the western heir?”

“No, he is but a friend.”

“Oh, that’s right, you are to wed my brother, Harell, isn’t that so?”

Elora chimed.

‘Can everybody just shut up??’

‘And what is this, what the hell is this restaurant? A hotspot for royals? If so, why did Harell think this would be the last place I would think about work?

“It is as the princess says, but not marry, rather, court. It is much too early for definitive decisions.”

The hand gripping mine tightened.

“Of course it is.”

She responded chirpily.

I couldn't meet Rheyes’s gaze, despite the intensity he stared down at me in, not because I was nervous, but because I was utterly disappointed in him.

“So, you left my brother alone to argue with your lover?”

Rheyes’s tone was too harsh for me to resist the urge to click my tongue at his audacity.

‘Where the hell do you get off??’

“Countess, did you click your tongue at me?”

“My apologies, your imperial highness, bits of coriander were trapped in the roof of my mouth. It will not happen again.”

“Rheyes, she has just said that they are friends. Were you not paying attention?”

Elora chimed in, ignoring his evident insistence on the blunder.

“You should let go of her hand. She has a date; will you really bruise her on such a busy day?”

Though he hesitated, he listened to Elora and let go of my hand.

In a moment of brave naivety, I bowed once again, then turned on my heel.

‘Why the hell are we all on the same floor?’

The door to the room I had exited flew open, and Harell peered his head.

As soon as he saw me, a smile crossed his face.

“I was just about to go looking for you.”

I smiled in return.

“Well, here I-,”

“That’s right! Countess!”

Rheyes’s voice boomed down the hall.

‘Can I ignore him? Maybe…I can just slam the door. He won't continue if I don’t acknowledge him. That’s right; he may be crazy but-’

“I have the payment for the night we spent together. Would you prefer cash, or do you accept credit?”

The blood in my veins turned cold as the silence in the hall grew enounced.

I stilled in my position, unable to move forward to the pureness of Harell, and worse, my mouth remained open, but I could say a word.

My brain felt fried.

‘What the f*ck? What the actual f**k? What the f**k!!’

‘Crazy! He is…how dare you!!’

‘No, I can’t jump to conclusions. His statement is general…but he knows where everyone’s minds would go…’

‘Think, Hafsa, think!!’

I turned to face him with the intent of rectifying his (-games?) in time to watch him pull out his card.

“Rheyes, what’s this about?”

Elora asked, but the most jolted expression remained Wreigner’s.

“Fe-feeding your staff do-doesn’t warrant payment, your highness. It is the least I could do since you nursed me when I was not well. Good evening.”

Before a cleverer response formed on his lips, I turned back to Harell and slid into the privacy of the room.

I did my best to hide my uneasiness by sitting before him and then pointing to his seat.

“Sit, sit. The food must be getting cold since you had to wait for me.”

The smile I wore felt plastic even to me.

I lifted the salad bowl in preparation for the meal, anything to facilitate normalcy, but the bowl shook with the tremor in my hands.

As quickly as possible, I returned the bowl and placed my hands on my thighs to steady.

“Are you okay? You’ve hardly served any salad.”

“Oh, uh, I thought you could go first, since…”

“Aha, you wish me to serve you.”

“Oh heavens no, you are a prince-,”

“And you are the woman I am to marry.”

He said with conviction, then dismissed the waiter who was to do the serving.

‘Gods, I hope he will not get fired.’

Harell took the bowl and began serving the meal.

The word thank you couldn’t escape my lips.

‘This is my fault. I should never have tried to get relief from rheyes.’

‘I know, better than anyone, the antics he is capable of.’

‘Gods, but I knew…fuck!’

(Virgin Syndrome-Believing, without proof, that the one you lost your virginity to must be the one)