Page 50 of Villainess's Redemption
“What’s wrong with you, Rosalind?” he scolded, rushing to my side as he put his hands on my shoulders to steady me. I noticed Rosalind glancing at Noah’s hands, and I quickly swatted at them to make him let go.Lord, everything’s going downhill. “Why are you behaving like this? We came here in good faith and you’re acting like a child since that day I found you.”
As Noah fussed over my injury despite my best attempt to sneak out of his grasp, he explained to Rosalind about the retrial, “It’s true, it happened yesterday. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t get the chance.” And how I had asked the queen to reconsider her exile. “That’s why we’re here,” he finished. “To take you back to the palace.”
Rosalind listened in silence, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. “Fine, I’ll go.”
Noah seemed relieved. “Good. I’ll go prepare the carriage,” he cast one last worried glance at me before hurrying out, leaving Rosalind and me alone once more.
The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I dabbed at my forehead with Noah’s handkerchief, wincing at the sting. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Rosalind closed the distance between us again.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” she hissed, her voice low and full of promise of vengeance, “but I’ll gladly take this opportunity you created and expose you. You think you’re the only one cunning here? Just wait and watch.”
With that, she turned on her heel and strode out after Noah, leaving me alone in the suddenly too-quiet room.
I stared ahead, my mind reeling. Did my plans just backfire on me? The throbbing pain in my head seemed to mock me, a reminder of how spectacularly wrong this encounter had gone.
What the hell am I going to do now?
* * *
The carriage ride back to the palace was awkward, to say the least. With my hand pressing Noah’s now blood-soaked handkerchief to my throbbing forehead, I sat in silent agony as Rosalind gazed out the window, her face a mask of stone as she ignored both of us. Noah, oblivious to it all, couldn’t tear his eyes away from her if his life depended on it.
I bit back a groan. If I rolled my eyes any harder, they might just pop out of my skull and roll right out of the carriage. What a sight that would be - the new Lady Stormbourne, eyeless and bleeding. At least then I’d have an excuse not to witness this nauseating display of unrequited love. No, not even love—at this point, it was just pining, like in those romantic novels popular with court ladies.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop by the doctor’s, Ilyana?” Noah asked for what felt like the thousandth time, his voice laced with concern that made my teeth ache.
“I’m fine,” I snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness in my tone. Softer, I added, “Really, Noah. It’s just a scratch.”
A scratch that felt like someone had taken a hammer to my skull, but details, details.
Rosalind’s eyes flickered to me for a moment, a mixture of satisfaction and anger flashing across her face before she returned to her vigil of the passing scenery.
Great. Just great. Not only had I failed spectacularly at mending fences, but I’d also managed to give Rosalind a goldmine of ammunition against me. Nothing says ‘I’m sorry for ruining your life’ quite like getting bashed in the head with a vase.
The rest of the journey passed in excruciating silence, broken only by the clip-clop of hooves and the occasional concerned glance from Noah. By the time we arrived at the palace, my head felt like it was hosting a demonic drum circle.
“I think I’ll retire to my chambers,” I announced as soon as the carriage door opened. “Noah, I trust you can handle… everything else?”
He nodded, his eyes already drifting back to Rosalind. “Of course. Rest well, Ilyana.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I bolted from the carriage, my vision swimming slightly as I made my way through the palace corridors. All I wanted was the sweet embrace of my bed and maybe a gallon of wine to dull the pain in my head and my pride.
But because the universe seemed determined to test the limits of my patience today, I rounded a corner and came face to face with none other than Prince Anderic himself.
Oh, for the love of all that is holy.
He was leaning against the wall outside our wing, looking for all the world like he didn’t have a care in the universe. As soon as our eyes met, his lips quirked up in that infuriatingly smug smirk of his, ready to spout some nonsense.
But then his gaze landed on the blood-soaked handkerchief I still held to my forehead, and his expression darkened faster than storm clouds rolling in.
Before I could blink, he was in front of me, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief or cold calculation, now burned with an intensity that made me want to take a step back.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
I bristled at his tone. Who did he think he was, acting all concerned when just this morning he’d been threatening to keep an eye on me? Make up your mind, Your Highness.
“Nothing happened,” I snapped, my patience finally snapping like a twig underfoot. “I just ran into a wall. Happy now?”
I knew I was being rude but to hell with it. I was tired of being nice.
