Page 82 of The Nightmare Queen

I give him a pointed glare, “youare not ogling her chest either.”

He laughs, raising his hands in defense. “The way you watch her…well it certainly riles Ezra up.” He backs away from the bed.

Prepared to end the conversation there, he’s halfway out the door by the time I decide to give him an answer. “I count the rise and fall of it. Her chest that is. Reassures me she is still breathing.”

A crease forms in his brow, “okay.” The wheels turning in his mind are obvious as he tries to work out my reasoning past that.

I place my hand on the comforter, looking down at the sleeping queen who in this state doesn’t look nearly as formidable as she does awake. My fingers, with a mind of their own, ghost over her cheek. “There have been one too many times now where I thought it would stop moving altogether. And it would be my fault.”

“Wanting to avoid guilt?”

I don’t dare look at him as the words tumble from my lips. “If she died? There wouldn’t be a corner of this world I could hide from the guilt of that. It would be my undoing.” The click of the door lets me know he’s gone, with no more words needing to be spoken.

For the first time since the bathroom floor, I risk sleeping next to her before dawn. With the weight of me dipping the mattress down, I expect her to wake up. I’m more caught off guard when her arm and leg fuse around my middle. Nails digging into my bare side. A very rare moment of vulnerability from such a hardened individual. If she could see herself…a laugh bubbles in my chest. I imagine if she could see herself, I would be subjected to an onslaught of cursing and threats.

My hand wraps around her, cradling her head into me and a sigh slips. Conscious, Eveera may be able to claim she hates me, but this version of her now only feeds my hungry delusions. How perfectly her body molds to mine. The way the silk of her slip feels against my skin. I keep my hands chaste hoping to shut down waking up a different kind of beast. My free arm stretches to put out the sconces and at the movement, incoherent mumbles pour from her lips like syrup.

“Shh…we’re pretending. Just sleep, beloved.” The word comes out for the second time in the past two days. The first I could convince myself it was for the part only. The part we chose to play. The part we’ve persistently reminded the other of. But in all honesty, as I brush away a few stray curls and draw circles on her back’s raised scars, I mean the word. But she wouldn’t accept that, she’d stab us both in the heart before she allowed hers to feel for mine.

A cold chill spreads over me. My sleep addled hand reaches for the limbs that are no longer wrapped around my torso.

Smash! “Fuck!”My feet hit the floor, carrying me out of the room.

Eveera, tangled mess that she is, is bent over shattered glass. The scent of new bourbon fills my nostrils. My arms cross my chest as I watch her, flummoxed and frantic.“Evidently sleeping with me has driven you to drink.”Her head snaps up to see me leaned against the doorway.

“Maybe I was just ridding you of your intolerable liquor.”

“Ah. The spirit is intolerable but sleeping with me was okay.” Her brows crease in annoyance as she goes back to fumbling with the broken pieces.

By the new look on her face she assumed I’d moved over in her direction to help clean up. It sours the moment she realizes I came only to retrieve a more aged bottle of my favorite drink. I take it with me and sit myself on the cool stone of the balcony that goes mostly unused. Why stare at and admire a city that only holds a morsel of kindness for me? The clinking of glass shards dissipates in the background. The queen takes a place by me with her knees tucked up under her chin. The short material of her dress falls, gathering at the hip.

Damned, bewitching woman.

My lips wrap around the bottle rim followed by the familiar burn as my eyes stay glued on that bunched fabric. “You’re staring.”

I raise my eyes to see her scowling.Always perpetually pissed off.“I’m admiring.” I droll.

“Ad..miring…” I nod my head taking another drink. Her eyes follow the movement of the liquid trailing down my throat, making heat crawl up the back of my neck.

I smirk. “Feel it’s only fair. Your limbs climbed me like a desperate animal when I got into bed. I might as well admire the owner of those limbs.”

“Fuck you.” She growls.

“When and where?” I suggest. Her eyes widen in alarm triggering an alcohol loosened laugh one that’s deep and hearty. She shakes her head, looking at the ground as her shoulders start to shake. Her body rumbles with laughter, the sound rich and real. And that,thatis a sound I want to hear all the way into my grave.

Eventually the laughter dies down. Heavy thoughts settling down between us. Baelor, the war at my doorstep, the war in myhome. And maybe not for her, but for me there is a third war. One where my mind desperately doesn’t want to feel for her but my heart knew I was fucked the moment we met. I swirl the bottle - now nearly empty - in my hands.

“You hate that they don’t love you.” Her words catch me off guard, searing me through.

“You love that they hate you.” The sound of the liquor bottle dragging on the stone beneath me echoes between the two of us. I’ve had far too much alcohol and she has had far too little for this conversation.

From the corner of my eye I see her sad smile. "Yes.” She whispers.

My finger drags along the rune on my wrist. “What if they didn’t, hate you that is.”

The smile on her face falls flat, replaced with mild irritation. “You don’t get it. The things that others say, the fear that pours out of them when they see me. Irevel in it.I made their fear of me tangible. The endorphins that rush through as they cower by my simple name. It makes me insatiable.” She bites down on her lip. “I don’t want to be anyone’s hero. Ilikebeing their villain. It is not something that needs to be fixed about me. It is not something I am willing to change. My people know that, everyone else should too.” There is confidence in that truth for herself. One that I find I envy. The citizens in this kingdom, save for my soldiers, made me to be a villain. A mistake. A scourge on their good name. I’ve always tried to make them feel differently. But hearing her words…

“Your people though, they love you. You may be someone’s villain, but you aren’t theirs. Not the way Baelor is to his.”

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