Page 67 of Of Realms and Chaos

Abruptly, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled and barely awake Genevieve. Her forest green night dress was rumpled, her golden curls a mess of knots. The most interesting part of her appearance, though, was the small spot on her neck, the red mark slowly taking on a purple hue.

“Gods, it is you.” Acidic tone and vicious glare aside, Genevieve did not seem that upset to see me. In fact, the energy radiating off of her was strangely vibrant, as if the prospect of a conversation with me was exciting. However, that enthusiasm quickly dimmed when I attempted to smile.

Before I could say anything of substance, Genevieve was slamming the door in my face, the sound of wood meeting wood so loud that it echoed across the hallway. For a moment, I stood there in baffled silence, so surprised that I could not think beyond the rage that was slowly building inside of me.

Bitch.

This time, I did not knock. Instead, I shoved through the door, letting it smack into the wall. Genevieve’s scream of shock was a glorious sound, so different from her brother’s yet just as appealing. Based on the princess’ horrified face, the smile I flashed her did the job. As always, that fear seemed to spark something visceral within me, the magic in my chest humming with anticipation.

“You cannot just barge into my chambers, you monster!” Cringing at the shrill tone, I walked further into the room, noting that it was nearly identical to mine. The same awful colors, as if they could not find a better shade of green or yellow—one which did not burn my eyes.

“Based on your foul attitude, I expected a far more original insult. Alas, just like your brother, you seem to be prone to disappointing me.” As soon as the words slipped from my lips, I knew I had failed. My attitude had gotten out of hand in my time of freedom. Backtracking, I pasted a smile on my face and turned to face her. “That was horribly rude of me, I do apologize, I got very little sleep last night.”

Genevieve huffed, crossing her arms and lifting her chin. “I am sure the demon prince did not either.”

Chanting to myself that I could not kill the girl, I took four deep breaths and turned away from her once more, allowing my horribly fake smile to fall. As luck would have it, something on the bench at the end of her bed caught my eye. Something that was not green or yellow or blue. No, this was red—the deep red of Haven.

When I faced the silent mortal princess again, my smile was anything but false. “I came to apologize for my behavior last night. I should not have forced you to drink that wine, nor should I have insulted your brother. As you can likely tell, we immortals have a tendency to lean towards chaos.”

Whether it was my calm voice or my specific choice of words that put Genevieve on edge, I was unsure. But whichever it was, she immediately went on defense.

“Trust me when I say that I expect no less from savage beasts such as yourselves. You are all psychotic on the best of days if your behavior last night was any indication.”

I hummed in agreement, watching with glee as her eyes darted to the cloak before quickly returning to me, the panic there beneath the disdain.

“Ah yes, Henry in particular is known to be quite savage.” Genevieve’s throat bobbed, jaw flexing. “Speaking of the carrot top, I sent him to apologize last night. Tell me, did he find you?”

What I did next was despicable, petty, and truly moronic. But watching her face as I walked to the wooden bench and sat beside the discarded red cloak, the very one Henry wore almost daily since I met him months ago, was worth any repercussions I might suffer from.

“This is a strange apology, and I do not accept. Now get out before I have you thrown out.” She pointed her finger at the door, eyes burning with rage and cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Still, she made an imposing figure, even with hair rumpled from sex.

So, you shame me at a political dinner for bedding a demon, then do the exact same thing an hour later and expect no one to bat an eye? Interesting time to choose hypocrisy.

Not moving, I bore witness to the color draining from her face and a tremor shaking her hand. Fun did not begin to describe the feeling of being inside of a terrified mind. It was something that used to bring guilt to my soul. Enjoying the pain of another creature as you violated their most private thoughts was evil, and I would not dare deny that. But, in the spirit of allowing my anger to lead the way, I could not bring myself to feel that same guilt I used to drown in daily.

“I did not steal away a loved brother and child. I did not betray my fiancé by—”

“Wrong there, Gen.” Her hand fell at the nickname, or perhaps it was the fact that I cut her off. No matter, the girl did not scare me in the same way she had before. Blackmail was never something I would consider months ago, but now I did not hesitate. “You are promised to the third son of King Mordicai and Queen Demis, the rulers of Heratt. Though he is too young to wed now, you both are still expected to be faithful to the coming union upon his sixteenth birthday.”

And then I had her. The princess ran, the speed with which she crossed the room to dive into her bathing chamber impressive. A phantom kick to my side and grip of my neck reminded me that she was not the only quick one in her family. Nor was she the only one prone to mistakes, which was why I would not let her get away with what she had done without helping us.

Retribution came in many forms. Death. Imprisonment. Poverty. Or, in Sterling’s case, threats to his sister. I heard her heave though nothing seemed to be exiting her body. More vomit had surrounded me these last few months than in my entire existence. Despite that, I walked forward slowly, making my way to the yellow door that was faintly ajar.

I rapped on it with my knuckles, rolling my eyes when Genevieve cursed and told me to leave. With my foot, I pushed the door open. She kneeled on the floor, face hanging over the basin as her body shook with the force of her gags. Someone was going to have a horrible time cleaning that out.

To my annoyance, my conscience won out, forcing me to make my way to her. Grabbing her hair with one hand, I held it up as the other hand rubbed her back. She reached up to swat me away, but I stopped rubbing her back to flick her in the head instead. To my bewilderment, the princess laughed.

“You know, I was actually hoping to ask you questions—on your future wedding day, I mean. I had been eager to meet you, thinking that you would bring much needed peace and hope to my brother. He has always been restless, desiring more than was given to him. Even now, I have so many questions. Too many. And I fear you will not answer any of them truthfully, just as your parents do not.”

With a sigh, I leaned over and grabbed a yellow towel before sitting down beside her. Gods, my curiosity and ridiculous need to be helpful would be the end of me some day.

Dipping the towel into her already filled tub, I tried to remain calm as I dabbed the wet cloth on her forehead. Her perplexed face lessoned some of the tension, the widening of her eyes revealing flecks of green within the brown.

“First of all, they are not my parents. I was lied to my entire life, surrounded by pain and told it was bliss. Never would I do something like that to another being if I could help it. Ask me anything, and I promise to answer you truthfully.” Every bit of my tone and demeanor exuded calmness, but underneath, I was full of panic at the idea of giving this girl answers she might later use against me. Like the sea just before a storm, the current of thoughts in my mind built, converging together to stir the water that was my sanity into pandemonium.

Genevieve seemed just as apprehensive, but I forced myself to remain within only my own head, affording her the peace that I often stole from others. Her gaze flicked between both of my eyes, her hands still tightly gripping the basin as I slid the wet cloth across her skin. When it became clear she was not going to speak, I huffed and slid behind her, discarding the towel on the checkered tile.

A laugh tried to fight its way to the surface when she flinched at my fingers touching her hair, but I held it back in hopes of not proving myself to be the wretched monster she thought I was. Not that I would deny what I knew to be true, but everyone enjoyed living in delusion sometimes.

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