The Breaking Point
Elian was sitting for the first time in nine days; his whole body spasmed in pain, but he did not show it.
He needed to be strong and healthy so he could do things for himself. He hated depending on people for his day-to-day activities.
He had just finished eating the soup his mother brought, and after her quiet vengeance whispers, she left to do her work.
Elian sighed, tired. He glanced around the empty infirmary, wondering what Lucien and Rowena would be doing if he had never been shot. Lucien would probably still be fucking him in secret like he was some dark scandal that could end a lineage... he was.
"I hate this," Elian muttered.
"I knew what was involved... I prepared my mind for it..." He shut his eyes, the wound in his chest throbbing harder as he reflected on his stupidity. "Yet, I let my body betray me... I let my feelings cloud my judgment." He chuckled softly, but still groaned due to the pain in his chest.
It was better this way; he did not need distractions anymore, and with his mother on his neck about revenge, he guessed his fooling days were over.
’Should I kill him?’ he thought, staring at the slightly ajar door.
It would really end all the craziness if he could just get Lucien killed without being caught. He and his mother would finally be free; maybe they could travel, leave that forsaken kingdom, and make a new life.
"Hey," Finn gently knocked at the door.
Elian lifted his face to find Finn smiling at him. He smiled back, glad to have someone who wasn’t his mother or a noble visiting him.
"Hey," he murmured, gently kicking his leg back and forth.
Finn walked across the room, pausing beside Elian. "How are you?" he asked softly.
"In pain," Elian smiled, glancing at his wrapped chest.
Finn sighed. "I’m sorry. I know you feel horrible, and if I’m allowed to speak, I know how you feel about the Duke and how he feels about you, but I also know you are in shambles because he abandoned you when you needed him the most. And no, this is not me sensing things—I can’t literally sense people’s real feelings—but I did overhear you two in his study one evening. I didn’t stick around to listen, but all I’m saying is: I’m here for you." He inhaled deeply to catch his breath, blinking slowly.
Elian stared at him for a while, disbelief, shock, and amusement crossing his eyes at the same time. Softly, he laughed, shaking his head.
"Well, thank you, Finn. This is the most direct, insightful, and encouraging thing I’ve heard in a while. Thank you for being my friend," he replied, smiling.
Finn relaxed visibly. "Can I sit?" He pointed to the chair beside Elian’s bed.
Elian nodded. "Sure."
Finn settled on the chair, tapping his feet gently. "Do you want to know anything? I don’t know much, but I’ll tell you whatever I know," he said.
Elian arched his brows. "Are you not supposed to be guarding the Duke’s chamber?" he questioned.
Finn nodded. "Yes, but the Duke is not around. He left last night; word is he will return this afternoon," he informed.
Elian paused. "Left? Where?"
Finn shook his head. "I do not know. But he is on his way," he replied.
"Oh..." Elian murmured, staring at the floor.
Where did he go?
"What are you doing?" Finn was on his feet immediately, blocking Elian from moving. "Why are you standing?" He frowned.
Elian pointed to the table by the corner. "I just want to get water," he said flatly.
Finn shook his head. "Sit. I’ll get it."
"No... I can use my feet just fine. It’s just my chest that hurts," he argued.
"Really? Lift your hands up, then." Finn folded his arms, arching his brows at Elian.
Elian stared at Finn for a long time, and then he sighed. "It’ll hurt." He chuckled.
Finn scoffed. "Oh, would it now? Sit down, lad," he instructed.
Obediently, Elian sat back on the bed, watching Finn pour him a cup of water from the jug on the table.
"Here," Finn lifted the cup to Elian’s lips, his eyes leaving no room for argument.
Elian had just taken the last gulp of water when the sound of smooth rolling wheels sounded right outside the door.
He thought it was Lucien who had returned, but the moment the sound got closer to the door, he knew it was no carriage wheels. If those wheels could ride on the veranda, then they were smaller.
"Darn it," Finn muttered, locking his eyes with Elian. "She’s here," he whispered.
Elian frowned. "Who is—"
The door was pushed open by a maid, and Rowena was revealed, seated delicately on a wheelchair. She wore a white, free-sized day dress made of comfortable silk, and on her lap was a soft, woolen blanket, covering her legs from the cold.
"Your Majesty," Finn bowed.
Elian was quiet, almost lost in scanning Rowena for any signs of illness. She looked just fine, cheeks flushed a healthy red and lips glistening beautifully.
Why was she still in the wheelchair?
"Take me in," Rowena commanded the maid.
The maid gently pushed Rowena into the infirmary, stopping in front of Elian.
"Leave us," Rowena commanded.
Finn glanced at Elian, who simply nodded at him in agreement. They could not possibly disobey the princess.
With a bow, Finn followed the maid out of the infirmary, closing the door behind them.
"How are you?" Rowena asked softly, smiling.
Elian did not let her soft smile deter him. He knew what she was capable of; after slashing his wrist the last time, she decided to strike an arrow right into his heart. He knew she was livid that he survived.
"Alive," Elian replied, holding her gaze with his own calm, guarded look.
Rowena nodded. "I did not think you would survive..." Her smile slowly fell from her face, her eyes turning malicious as usual.
"I know," Elian smirked, which seemed to annoy Rowena because her eyes darkened visibly in anger.
"I don’t know what you and my husband—"
"Fiancé," Elian cut her off.
"What?" Rowena scowled.
Elian smiled sweetly. "I said, fiancé. He’s your fiancé... you said husband, so I thought I’d correct you," he stated calmly.
"Bitch," Rowena cursed, fists balling tightly.
"Please, don’t stop what you had to say," Elian said quietly.
He was no longer going to act meek with Rowena. Since she had made it clear that she was out for his life, he was going to bite back. They could all act sweet and innocent in front of Lucien, but once they were alone, he was showing her the version of himself she had created.
"Trust me... once I confirm that you have anything to do with my Lucien, I’ll drive a blade to your chest myself," she threatened.
"Not after I drive one through yours first," Elian’s voice wasn’t hurried in the slightest; he was enjoying the rage on Rowena’s face.
"You bitch," Rowena suddenly sprang to her feet, and before Elian could react, she slapped him hard across the cheek.
Elian fell to his side, grunting as his shoulders collided with the bed, his wound immediately reopening.
"Watch your words, peasant," Rowena spat, glaring at him as he tried to straighten himself on the bed.
Elian gritted his teeth, eyes shut as he forced himself up. His breathing was ragged as he stared at the blood soaking the white cloth wrapped on his chest.
He chuckled, lifting his face to her. "It was just starting to close up," he murmured, smiling, though his eyes held no warmth.
For the first time, Rowena was scared that she might have actually triggered something in Elian. She had never seen that kind of dark, raw, lifeless look in his eyes before.
"You deserve worse. I warned you to stay away from—"
"What if I don’t?" Elian stood, wincing as he limped over to Rowena, eyes determined.
"You mean nothing," Rowena stood her ground, her heart racing as Elian leaned in toward her ear.
"I don’t mean nothing if I have you plotting my death so intensely. You know you mean nothing; he’ll never see you the way he sees me," he whispered.
"I will enjoy watching you die," she whispered back.
"He doesn’t know you can walk yet, right?" Elian asked slowly.
"Of course. Why would I miss my chance to get my lover out of your claws?" She glared at him.
Elian chuckled, locking his eyes on Rowena. "My claws are clipped. He’s the one who comes crawling back to me—"
"You bastard— argh!" Rowena’s face almost rotated 360 degrees from the hard punch Elian landed on her jaw.
She stumbled onto her wheelchair and hit the floor hard, her forehead colliding with the floor.
"No, no, no, not my face," she cried, touching the sticky blood flowing from her forehead.
"Never lay your useless, filthy hands on me ever again—"
"What is going on here?" Lucien pushed the door open and stared at the scene with anger and disappointment.
Elian gasped, shocked at Lucien’s sudden arrival at the very wrong moment.
"Your Grace—"
"My love, help! My leg... my head hurts! It hurts so bad!" Rowena wailed, curling up on the floor like a scared child.
"No, Your Grace, let me explain—"
"Silence!" Lucien growled, striding over and lifting Rowena into his arms.
"You will be punished for your actions," he said coldly without even looking at Elian.
And, with that, he carried a sobbing Rowena out of the infirmary.
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