The Palace (Chateau 4)

She lifted her chin and looked at me, her eyes red because she’d cried during the entire cab ride. “Then I don’t want to go back with you.”

My visage didn’t change, but her declaration made me feel the same bout of loss as when she’d left the first time. It hurt me—again. It hurt me, when I’d thought she couldn’t hurt me anymore. “You don’t expect winter to thaw into spring in a moment. It takes time, a very long time, for the snowcaps to melt and flood the rivers. I’m a man of the elements. You should manage your expectations. A mountain won’t move just because you wish for it to move.”

Her fingers continued to fidget, but she didn’t drop her gaze. “It’s been three weeks. No sign of movement. No sign of future movement. It’s impossible for me to make amends or prove my feelings if I can’t even speak to you. You don’t want me there. It’s clear.”

My anger increased because her awareness was nonexistent. She had me in the palm of her hand—and she didn’t even know it. “If I didn’t want you there, I wouldn’t have welcomed you into my home. I wouldn’t come into your bedroom at night. I’d visit my favorite whore instead. I wouldn’t drive all the way here. I wouldn’t be sitting here right now at all, looking at you the way I always have, since the moment I first saw you. I kept my promise to you even after you broke your promise to me. You’re alive this very moment, when anyone else would be dead. I don’t want you there…” I shook my head. “You insult me. You fucking insult me.” I rose to my feet and moved to the door, expecting her to get off her ass and follow me.

But she didn’t.

I turned back around and gave a deep sigh of annoyance.

“You have to try… Otherwise, I won’t come with you.”

I bent over backward for this woman. I destroyed my self-respect for this woman. There was no request I wouldn’t honor. Anything she asked of me, I would give it to her. It was fucking pathetic.

Almost made me walk out for good.

But I’d lived a life without her…and it was unbearable.

Obsessed. Addicted. Infatuated.

Haunted. Bewitched. Possessed.

This woman was the fucking air to my lungs.

So, I caved—again. “Alright.”

I drove her back to the palace.

Gilbert greeted us with disappointment, taking her bag with a sigh, as if he’d hoped she would never step foot in this place again. He could barely tolerate her when things were good. I imagined he was worse now than he’d ever been before.

“Gilbert.”

He halted and turned back to me. “Yes, Your Highness?”

I just stared him down because he would understand my silence better than my words.

He gave a slight nod then carried her bag to her bedroom upstairs.

I turned back to the office. “I have shit to do.”

She looked around the foyer, the gold sconces, the floral wallpaper and the portraits on the wall—like she’d never seen it before. “Can we have dinner together?” She looked at the floor, expecting a no before she heard it leave my lips.

I stared at her fair cheek, the blush that highlighted her prominent cheekbones, that gave her a deeper level of beauty. The answer that came to mind stayed there and never left my lips. “Yes.”

The anger was impossible to release.

Not when I was this enraged.

But it was a necessary sacrifice to have the one thing more profound than my hate.

My chérie.

I stepped into her bedroom and found her at the dining table near the window in her living quarters. Her makeup had been refreshed, and she was in the designer clothes I provided.

Gilbert had her tray set up in front of her, and then he did the same to mine.

I approached, my bare feet moving across the hardwood floor and then the thick rug. My mind was more focused now that the scotch had been siphoned out of my diet. Didn’t need it as a form of pain management.

There was nothing to do for the anger, unfortunately.

I sat in the chair across from her, feeling so much rage for what she’d done, but that slowly tapered off the longer I looked at her.

Her beauty dulled the fury.

Gilbert removed the silver lids to our platters then left us to enjoy our dinner.

Melanie stared at me without touching her silverware, her eyes slightly soft, as if she couldn’t believe I was actually there with her. Gratitude. Joy. A lot of different emotions moved across the surface of her eyes.

It was real.

Raven was always the wedge between us, but now that she had been permanently removed from the situation, she shouldn’t cause any more problems. I wasn’t sure what made me hate her more—destroying the camp, or taking Melanie away.

Melanie grabbed her silverware and started to eat.