Pelin

I hide the phone behind me in panic. I look at his face, scared. Scared of what could’ve happened, or what is going to happen. 

            “My mother.” I lie, but my voice is revealing everything. 

If my legs weren’t trembling this much, maybe I could’ve hidden it. But no. My anxiety never leaves me alone. Something in Harry’s blue eyes gets rough. I hold my breath as he walks all over me. He doesn’t even ask for me to give the phone to him, he casually grabs it as if it is his own. When he brings it to his ear, I start to pray to God. I pray for him not to say anything that will make Harry get mad at me. 

“Piece of shit.”

            He throws the phone onto the bed with such fury. I try not to sigh with relief. He hung up. Harry can’t talk to him anymore. I am safe. At least as much as I can be right now.

            “Why were you talking to him?” he almost yells at me.

            I don’t flinch. “I told him that I will give his name to the police.”

            “No.” His voice is harsher than I’ve ever heard before. “You will not.”

            I look at him with surprise. “But why?”

            “Because it will mess things up. We will say that we have no idea who could have broken into our house.”

            When I don’t answer, he sits beside me and shakes me slightly. “Do you understand?”

            “No.” I whisper.

            He sighs. “Because, Adelaide, if you tell his name to the police, the press will probably know about it, too. It would cause a huge scandal. If they try to interview him and he tells them about your past, we are done.”

            I look into his eyes with fear. “Done?”

            “I don’t mean breaking up.” Something softens in his glance as he caresses my cheek. “I can never leave you. What I meant is that we would be in a big trouble.”

            I swallow. “I understand.” 

            “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let him hurt you.”

            Harry says it with such confidence. I don’t want to cross him. I don’t know if I believe him, though. I know he believes himself, but I am not that sure. Maybe he can physically protect me, just as he claims, but he can’t be my emotional shield. No one can be my emotional shield against him. Not as long as the most fragile part of me still belongs to him.

            I really like Harry though. He has always been a husband who deserves an Oscar for it. From the moment we met, he has tried to fulfill every wish I have made. With both money and love. He gave me his everything. Yet, I failed to love him as I should have. I failed to be a wife. I couldn’t even be a wife. I wonder if there is anyone in my life who I still has not failed. Maybe, it could be my mother. She is pretty proud of me for having got married to Harry. She wept a lot on my wedding day, she was so happy that I finally left that “douchebag” and found someone who could make me happy. However, she was wrong. There has been almost six months from my wedding, and I am not happy at all. My days are shadowed by his little revenges, making me get overwhelmed. Moreover, some nights I yearn for his arms around me instead of Harry’s arms.

            “I know.” I lie with such grace.

            “Get some rest.” he gently orders. “I will handle the police. If they need you, I will come to wake you up.”

            “I can’t.” I protest. Then, I quickly explain. “I’m too nervous, my love.”

            My love. Words sting my tongue, but I somehow manage to get them out of my mouth every single time. Because it works. It really does. Harry is always persuaded by my soft words. Whenever I call him darling or love or such things, he can’t resist. I know that it might make me one of the worst people this world has ever seen. I know it, still, I keep doing it.

            “Well, my dear.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “But as we dealt, you have no idea who could it be, okay?”

            I shake my head. “Of course.”

            He gives me a small but satisfied smile. “Good. I bet they are almost here.”

            “If you excuse me, I will get changed until they arrive.”

            He stands up. “Of course.” But before he leaves, he looks at me. “Don’t you ever call him again.”

            “I will not.” I lie easily. “I promise.”

            When he closes the door, I take my phone to send him a message. My fingers quickly move on the screen as I write. When I’m done, I take a look at the screen before I press to the send button. I was bluffing. I have never given your name to the police. Keep your mouth shut. So will I. Do not reply to this message.

            After I send it, I delete the message from my phone and hope that he will not reply. Because if he does and Harry sees it, this time I’m done. I don’t want it. I selfishly want Harry to myself, want this marriage to continue. Because I have nowhere else to go. If I go to my mother’s house, I will go crazy. If I rent a house for myself, I will also go crazy. I need Harry. I need him by my side. Even though my heart says something else than my brain does.

Here is the first chapter.

“Slut.” I whisper, both ashamed and furious as I look at the wall.

            “Don’t say that word.” Harry frowns.

            I almost laugh upon this. I want to burst into laughter until I start to cry. He can’t be serious, right? It says slut with a red paint on the wall at the entrance of our house and the mentioned slut is me. But no, he is dead serious. He is Harold Byron. The only son of the most respected family of Lancaster. His wife must be well-mannered and always suitable for him. I had no objection to that when I was marrying him, and I should not have any now. 

            Still, I can’t help but complain. “Are you aware that someone broke into our house? Is the only problem here me saying a swearword?”

            I know damn well who that someone is, however, I can’t say his name. Even the echo of it inside my mind stings. I didn’t know he was keeping count. It is too much, even for him. Even for the man I loved once. He sees it as a game. He enjoys watching me suffer because I made him suffer once, too.

            Harry glances a look at me. “Someone? I think we both know who he is, darling.”

            I grind my teeth. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

            He shakes his head. “You don’t have to act like you have no idea about it. I am not mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

            At that moment, I can’t do anything but nod. It is like I am completely paralyzed, from head to toe. I can’t move. I can’t say a thing. I can just shake my head. I am in a deep shame, because it is such a scandal. Initially for me, then for Harry and his family. It is just a matter of time for the pressmen to come and take photographs. I know that we will be on the first page of the newspapers tomorrow. The word will be there, bright crimson red. And my face, also probably crimson red from shame. People will know what exactly is wrong when they see Adelaide Byron’s expression – the dear, shy wife of Harry Byron.

            “Where are you going?” 

            I hear Harry’s words as I start to run. But I don’t turn my back to face him. I need to hide. Before the pressmen come. If I am not there, then they will not have a clue. Also, I need to do something. I need to show my teeth at him. This nonsense can’t go on like this. No, I can’t let it. 

            “Adelaide!”

            Adelaide. Not Addie. Not like him. Harry have always called me by my name, and I have never asked him to use a nickname even though I have always called him “Harry”, not “Harold” like the rest of his family.

            “I’ll use the bathroom!” I shout.

            I hear him sigh. Good. He stops running after me upon my words. I climb up the stairs and pace to our bedroom. I find my phone on the nightstand. I hold it with both of my trembling hands. Because if I don’t, I will definitely drop the device to the ground. I dial the number that I know by heart like it is mine. I tried to forget it many times, but somehow I never could. However, at the moment, I am glad that I did not. I wait, impatiently pulling the end of my morning gown. 

            Finally, he picks up the phone. I wait for him to say “Hello?”. However, he does not say a word. And I am not able to speak. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I know I can. Because if I don’t show my teeth right now, then he will keep doing such ridiculous things. I don’t know how much of it Harry will tolerate. I will never know. So, it is my only chance.

            “Hello?” I almost whisper, in a clearly terrified voice.

            The answer comes quickly. “You got my message.”

            The tone of his voice reveals that he is smiling right now. I grimace with an sudden nausea. He disgusts me. He is so far from the man he once used to be. He is something more rigid now. Fiercer. Charged with revenge. But so am I.

            “The police are here. I gave them your name.” I lie. I don’t even know if Harry called the police yet. I am just trying to scare him, even though I know damn well that he will not be afraid by the thought of getting arrested.

            “Excellent.” he says, as if the thought entertained him. “I wouldn’t expect less from you.”

            “You didn’t need to go this far.” I snarl.

            “Says the woman who married someone just for revenge.” he answers.

            “I love him!”

            I bite my tongue just after the words leave my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that. Not because it was a lie, but because it will make everything worse. I shut my eyes close as I wait for his answer.

            “So you didn’t feel anything before at all?”

            It was so far from what I expected. I expected him to hang up, or say something angry. On the contrary, he sounded almost emotional. I sit down on bed because if I did not, I would’ve definitely fall to the ground. 

            “Of course I did.” My voice cracks with pure grief as I talk. “I know you don’t believe me. But I did. April 29th.”

            We both are silent now. He does not say a word, but I wait for him to. He has to. He has to believe me and end this nonsense. He has to remember where I was April 29th. 

            “Addie…” he starts. Addie.

            And that moment, Harry’s voice fills up the room.

Part 1

"I pledge myself to you, Iris Cygnet, princess of the Lakelands. Will you accept?”       Maven does not even throw a glance at me, he looks at Iris while saying these words. But everyone looks at me. They don't look at the King and the woman he just proposed to, they look at me. They wait for a sign. They wait for me to object, or at least leave this damned place. They hope for a show, a drama.       But I don't give it to them. Even though their gazes make me feel like there are words written on my face- humiliating letters of black ink that will permanently stay on my skin. I just sit there, and watch the love of my life getting engaged with another woman. There is no expression on my face. No fury, no misery. I keep my wounds hidden.       "I put my hand in yours, and pledge my life to yours," Iris replies, after her own traditions and the customs of her kingdom. "I accept, Your Majesty."       He puts his bare hand out to take hers, the bracelet at his wrist sparking as he moves. A current of fire hits the air, snakelike and curling around their joined fingers. It does not burn her, though it certainly passes close enough to try. Iris never flinches. Never blinks. That’s why she is the one whom he is marrying, I think. Not you.

      I feel like I might throw up any moment now. I turn my gaze away from them. I just look at my hands on my lap. I can’t hear anything anymore. I am fully focused on my pain now. It is a foolish move, I know. Just a moment ago, I was determined that I was not going to give them even a hint. But my feelings have always been my weakness. I suck at controlling them. Or hiding them under a flawless mask, like Maven does.

      When people start to stand up, I understand that it is time to go. I get on my wobbly feet. And just when I am about to turn my back, icy blue eyes meet mine. I suddenly stop. I can taste blood in my mouth. Every memory we share is a piece of glass, but every single one of them is broken and they draw blood. I press my lips together in fear of silver streaming down my chin. The question pounds in my head: Why did you do this? But I must admit that I know the answer. He needed to. And I will be fair, every king that is in Maven’s place would do the same. But he had a choice.

      Even though he looks at me as if I am the only real thing in his world in front of everyone, I feel so heavy-hearted that I can’t keep looking at him. I swiftly turn my back and start to walk. I feel so cold and the freezing weather is not the only reason. That’s why the fur collar of my coat and my leather gloves don’t keep me warm. I feel like I don’t breathe anymore. Everything inside me is dead.

“My lady.”

     I stop and turn my back just to face one of the Sentinels. I scowl at him even though he did not do anything to deserve it, because I got no energy to deal with anybody. I just want to let my pain drown me. I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t have it in myself.

“His Majesty is waiting for you in his car.”

      The heart of glass on my chest feels heavy. It has dealt with grief so many times until this day and it was successful at handling it, but this time hits different. Because it is Maven. King of Norta who is waiting for me just after his new engagement. It sounds like a joke, but I know that it is not. I want to scream at the Sentinel’s face that he should tell his King to go fuck himself. But I can’t. Even a Sentinel shouldn’t witness someone’s disobedience to the King. It is already a fragile reign.

“Lead the way.” I say, with no will in my voice.

        The Sentinel does as I say. I take reluctant steps as I silently follow him. I don’t want to see Maven. Moreover, I don’t want to be alone with him in his car. I can’t talk to him because I know that I will burst into tears if I try. I don’t want him to marry somebody else. I selfishly want him all to myself even though it is not possible anymore.

        I can’t see Maven because the windows of his car are so dark that nobody could see anything from outside. But when the Sentinel opens the door for me, I see him sit on the large backseat of the car. When our gazes meet, I feel sick to my stomach once again. My gloved hands clunch into fists. I’m so angry at him that I can’t breathe. I’m furious because I wish I could hate him for making me suffer, but no matter what he does I will never be able to do that.