Esme — POV
His cold eyes locked onto mine, like I had no right to ask him that.
"My enemies can scare you, Lady Esme."
His voice was low, darker than usual. It crawled down my spine.
"For starters, they're merciless killers. They don't think twice. Just the idea of defiance is enough to get someone killed."
He said it with eerie calm, but I saw something in him twist—maybe fear, maybe regret.
I couldn't stop myself.
"Aren't you the same, King Liam?"
It slipped out.
And I regretted it instantly.
His eyes hardened. I felt ice in my lungs.
"You think I'm a tyrant? Like the rumors from the western lands?"
He raised a brow, arms crossed, power radiating off him like a threat. I froze, heart hammering, a bead of sweat crawling down the back of my neck.
"I... I…" I choked out.
"King Liam, I don't think that way. At all," I whispered.
He smirked. A dark, dangerous thing.
"Did I scare you, Lady Esme?"
I didn't know what to say.
"If this is fear, wait until you truly understand my enemies. You'll live in terror."
His words didn't feel like a threat. They felt like a promise.
I clutched the fabric of my gown.
"To answer the rumors—yes. I can kill. Just like them."
The carriage stopped.
He offered his hand.
I didn't take it.
I stepped out on my own, avoiding his eyes like they were fire.
I rushed to the Empress, feeling his stare burn holes in my back. I didn't dare look back.
Inside my chambers, I collapsed, heart pounding, tears pushing forward. I wiped them away.
I had to be stronger.
I whispered to myself: You're not weak. Don't let the fear win.
A letter sat waiting on my desk. The imperial seal stared back at me—lions and crossed spears.
Lady Margaret.
"Have you thought about my offer, Lady Esme? As I said—you don't have a choice. Meet me tomorrow at my tea party. We'll discuss how you can help me further."
I burned the letter. Burned the evidence.
I had no intention of going.
But King Liam's words echoed—
"I can kill. Just like my enemies."
And Margaret… she knew about my illegitimate birth. My blood. A commoner being married to royalty? That alone was treason in Eastbrone. A war with the Westerlands wouldn't be far behind if they found out.
I knew the laws. I also knew where to twist them.
If I accepted Margaret's offer, I'd be a traitor—to Liam, to Eastbrone.
But if I refused?
I paced, dizzy from reading the book of Eastbourne, the legal rules that offered me no way out.
My head throbbed. My body felt like it wasn't mine anymore.
A knock.
"Come in," I muttered, thinking it was Lily.
But it was Duke Edward.
I stood, light-headed. My knees gave.
He caught me, strong arms steadying me, my body pressed into his.
"Esme..."
Had he just used my name?
"You should rest," he said gently, guiding me to the bed.
I lay down, vision swimming.
"Duke Edward… why are you here?" I managed.
"To thank you, Esme."
Again—Esme.
I blinked, confused.
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
A small smirk tugged at his lips.
"You really don't remember, do you? We were childhood friends. Before..."
He paused.
"Too early to talk about it, I guess."
"Duke..."
"Call me Edward," he said, sitting beside me like it was natural.
I wanted to get up, ask him what the hell he meant, maybe even slap him awake from this weird dream. But I couldn't move.
"Your eyes... you're full of questions," he said, watching me.
I nodded, barely.
"In time, Esme... You'll remember what we are."
What we are? What was he talking about?
"Call the doctor... something's wrong..." My whole body was burning, aching.
He frowned now, truly worried.
"This is all because of that bastard Liam. Of course your body can't handle the bond magic..."
Bond?
What bond?
I heard him again, his voice quieter, like it wasn't meant for me.
"No wonder your fragile body can't handle Liam's magic... you're his damn mate. What a cruel games a fate played with our future Esme" He muttered.
My breath caught.
Mate?
"Esme," he said again, voice fading as my eyes fluttered closed.
"I hope you heal quickly. Once this mess ends, you and I—we'll leave.
You belonged to me... long before him."