"Evelyn, darling, did you hear me?" She was still reeling from the hit, feeling the blood gush from her nose. She held out her hand trying not to get any on her clothes. Ilara took a step towards her, but Ryker held a hand up to halt her. "Answer me," he growled.
Slumped against the stained-glass window of her room, she watched as a few drops of blood decorated it, falling slowly like raindrops. Ryker had come in like a whirling tempest. She and Ilara had been getting ready to open a note sent by raven from Henley and Sorin. They knew it was from them when they saw the lightning ward sealing the note. The distinct feel of Sorin's magic was still strong so she knew it hadn't been tampered with. She had just dispelled it when the ex-Templar lunged at her and hit her square in the face with a hard blow. He was in such a rage that he didn't notice the note that Ilara had discreetly shoved under her carpet.
She winced, with a sharp inhale trying to clear her nasal passage, "I heard you."
"And what did I say? Since you don't seem to want to listen!"
"That I have three days to either… bed you or you'll give Cullen red lyrium."
"That's right. I've found all manner of people through my contacts and one is a black-market alchemist. Now, she says she can take the glow and color from lyrium with one of her concoctions. All I'd have to do is just make sure he can't sense it, which will be simple enough to cover with my high lyrium intake and slip it in his drink." He laughed, "You should've seen him squirm when I spoke with him the other day, he could hardly stand me!"
He hadn't mentioned that he knew about Cullen not taking Lyrium, but regardless, she could not let him do it. "Fine, I'll do it. When..."
"Oh no, Trevelyan, you will surprise me. I want you to come to me willingly and your performance will need to be convincing or I'll make good on my threat to your dear Commander. As I said, you have three days to prepare yourself for the experience. I wouldn't want to rush you." He looked to Ilara, "You can tend to her now. I'm done here." Snarling, he stomped out and the Enchanter quickly bent to her task.
After at least a dozen of similar encounters, Ilara finally stopped crying afterward. She was developing a thicker skin, and while Evelyn regretted how it came about, she was glad to see her friend toughen up. After her nose was healed, she used extra mana to stop the bruising before it appeared. When she finished, the Inquisitor simply reclined back against the window taking some deep breaths. When her friend passed her the note, she asked her to read it, "It says, One down, one to go. How do they know there is only one more set?"
"They must've found something, maybe a note or letter saying as much. That just leaves the third and final set in Ryker's possession. We'll have to figure something out. We can't let him send them out before we kill him."
Ilara's eyes grew wide, "So, you are planning to kill him?"
The Phoenix stared straight ahead unblinking, "He will feel my wrath even if I have to get singed myself. And I'll make sure he's dead this time."
"Are you really going to sleep with him? Surely, Cullen can handle trouble? I've seen him around Aeron, he's suspicious of him, and he'd not want you to…"
"He's not taking lyrium, Lar! Maybe if he had been he'd have more tolerance to it, but I'm afraid if he took red lyrium he'd lose his soul to it! I know firsthand what it will do. Not to mention we don't even know how much Ryker has in his possession. Look at what a small amount did to Henley, I fear even a shot of it would be enough to take Cullen's mind. I can't take that risk." She couldn't bear the thought of him going through the madness she had endured. Paired with his past trauma, it'd be too much for him right now. "I have no choice, not when we are so close to thwarting him. If I have to sacrifice my dignity to save him, so be it. I'd gladly give more than that to keep him safe.. Besides, once Cullen finds out I even let Ryker breathe the same air as me, he'll never speak to me again."
"So…"
"So, in three days if we don't hear from the boys, then I'll have to go to him." She looked over to the assortment of alcohol about her desk, sighing heavily, "I may be needing a lot more of that, despite my mother finally leaving Skyhold."
"The Ambassador was able to do it then? When does she leave?"
Evelyn pointed up to the bottle of whiskey, still nursing her nose. As Ilara poured her a glass, she sniffled and spoke, "She was, I'm glad I enlisted her aid rather than do it myself. Josie is a miracle worker when it comes to these things and Lord Trumbull was even more thrilled that he'd have a sister-in-law marked by Andraste. She leaves in four days for Tantervale to help Ariella with her wedding preparations."
"I don't care how she did it, I'm just happy our dear 'Lord Armand' will be down an ally. Let him try and act like a noble now that his mentor is leaving."
"And let's pray Henley and Sorin are close to completing their mission. I'm worried sick for them. My gut can't help but feel Ryker has something brewing."
"You think he knows what we're doing?" Her voice was a whisper as they remembered they could be watched.
"I don't think so but, he seems to always have something worse planned each time I overstep." She sighed frustratingly, "I'm so tired, Lar." She leaned her head on the blonde's shoulder. Sipping her drink and closing her eyes, she let her friend fuss over her this time. It was the only love and affection she had to comfort her having distanced herself from all her friends. She was getting lonelier by the day as all of her companions were incredibly perceptive. Every interaction turned into an interrogation and she was mentally exhausted. All she could do was pray that it would all be over soon.
***
Three days had come and gone with no word from Henley and Sorin. Evelyn had skipped dinner in the Great Hall to mentally prepare herself for what had to be done. She had only herself to blame for provoking Ryker, and now she needed to protect Cullen from a fate worse than death. She thought too that while there, she could find where he was keeping their phylacteries for when it was time to destroy them. At this point, giving him what he wanted in exchange for finding a way to rid herself of him for good outweighed her dignity. What was more shame piled on what she had accumulated over the past year and a half?
She took the decanter of wine and poured herself a glass, then another, and another until she had a bottle under her belt. The warm numbness of the wine was better than the cold numbness she had been feeling of late. With her pride and care drowning in alcohol, she stripped and went to the wardrobe to find the Orlesian silk nightgown Ryker had bought her. It was floor-length with a slit that went as high as the scar on her hip. The silk encompassing her upper body was pulled tight leaving little to the imagination. Unlike everything else he had bought her, it wasn't black but a deep blood red. She pulled a heavy housecoat around her, and before she could come to her senses, she descended the steps out of her room.
It was an hour before midnight when she glided through the halls to the guest rooms. Thankfully, the stairwell to her chambers connected directly to the hall of the guest wing. She opened the door a crack making sure it was vacant of any eyes. As swift as her swaying legs would take her, she turned right, heading for his door at the end of the hall. She stopped outside of it to steal herself, mind and body, for what needed to be done. Her mind absently wandered to Cullen and how much he'd hate her for doing this. She knew he'd rather die before she gave herself to this man, but Cullen's life was so much more precious to her. Knowing that he'd be safe was worth it, and hopefully, he'd never have to find out about this. When and if she ever told the truth, she knew he'd never look at her again. Perhaps it would make moving on easier for him, but the thought of seeing him with another woman nauseated her.
She gave herself a mental slap as the wine stirred her feelings up distracting her from her mission. Loosening the opening of her robe made her stomach sour, as did the thought that she knew he'd like it. Before she could turn back she opened the door. She didn't bother knocking, why would she? She was the Inquisitor and this was still her home. Through the dark of the room, a soft glow emanated from the slit in the bedroom doorway. She could hear voices though his was more pronounced than the other. Who would he be talking to at this hour, especially when he was expecting her? Creeping forward she peered in only just making out Ryker smiling fiendishly on the bed. His chest was bare, and he occasionally reached a hand down to slap at a lump under the covers. As she watched for another minute, it became clear what was going on.
She barged into the room startling them, though her betrothed quickly recovered, merely looking at her with amusement. Ryker was in the center of the bed holding both arms out to either side as he welcomed her. The mumbling she had heard was giggles coming from the lump underneath the blankets. "Well, well look who's finally here. I'm afraid my dear, I'm a bit indisposed at present. I didn't expect you until later, but you are welcome to join us." Each maddening breath she pulled in brought forth more of her mana. Whoever was hiding beneath the covers was a mage and a young one at that. The thought that he was preying on her mages infuriated her, more than the fact that he had humiliated her. She fingered the edge of the covers, watching his face twist to a dark frown, "Don't..."
Grabbing the covers, even as he warned against it, she threw them off him and his bedmate. The blonde woman, no longer giggling at the sight of the Inquisitor fuming before her, jumped out and pleaded with her. Adverting her eyes from the naked pair, she merely commanded that she was 'dismissed' and without hesitation, grabbed her clothing and exited the room. Evelyn's chest heaved and her eyes were aflame as she started wildly at him waiting to hear the door to the hall close.
"How dare you disrespect me to my subordinates! I don't think you understand what you've done. This," she pointed between the two of them, "will become nothing but a joke - although it always was. Do you know how quickly gossip spreads here? You're going to ruin my credibility and reputation!"
He jumped out of bed slipping on his pants, but didn't bother to tie them, "I don't give a fuck about your credibility or Inquisition! If I had it my way we'd be back at my estate right now! The Inquisition is weakening the South by diving loyalties. The people should be looking to their monarchs, not some bannerless band of outcasts grabbing at power. Whose leader is a mage, of all fucking things, that uses our divine Lady to assume authority over the righteous!" Aggrieved by the interruption, an all too familiar look overtook his face and she suddenly felt as if she was back in the Circle. He grabbed her by the throat slamming her up against the wall. Her mana ignited, but so too did his Templar abilities and they readied themselves for a fight.
Before anything happened though, he kissed her. He pressed his body against her, trapping her between him and the wall where she had little to no room to pull away. His touch was like the Void, sucking the mana out of her like a siphon. She kneed him in the gut, just missing the groin, but he laughed maniacally undeterred. Knowing what he'd do, despite the consequences, she conjured a flame in her hand. As it surged with her magic, he drew back hitting her with the cold rush of his lyrium-fueled power, dispelling the flame.
Taking the hit well, she moved to the center of the room. A dangerous look caught fire in her eye as the overwhelming aura of her inner fire engulfed the room. Ryker paled for a moment as the heat swallowed him and knew how pathetically outmatched he was. "Touch me again without my permission and I will set fire to everything and everyone in this room until all that remains is ash." The pulsating glow of her blood looked more like small magma flows reaching up her neck. He tried to hide his rising fear with disgust, but it was already too late and it gave her the courage to go on. "I told you, you're going to have to take substantially more lyrium if you wish to control me. Even Seeker Pentaghast cannot silence me without the aid of other Templars." She stood her ground looking down at him.
"You're an abomination!"
"I may be a different monster than what I was back in Ostwick to you, but it's because I'm a survivor, and never underestimate one unless you know what they've done to stay alive." Her marked hand flickered to life, melding the orange and green into a haunting hue against the walls of the room. "I warned you, I'm a Templar's worst fucking nightmare," she slowly started toward him, "and before I allow you to ruin my friends and the Inquisition, I will pull you into this fire with me and we'll burn together." She increased the intensity of the magic crackling through the room. Ryker tried to protect himself in a barrier of his own, but she overpowered it easily.
Sweat dripped from him and he was beginning to have trouble breathing as the room became hot as an oven. "Stop!" He pleaded though it was not from weakness, "I will consider your punishment done if you just leave me!" Increasing the heat until he began to choke she finally relented quelling her aura. He ran to the window opening it up in a frantic quest for air. Sucking in the mountain air, it was her turn, as she grabbed him by the back of the neck and using a mind blast, shot him into the wall.
His nose cracked against it, instantly breaking, "Consider us even. Goodnight." The fury of a raging inferno gripped her she stomped out of the room and down the hall. If she had been thinking properly she would have returned the way she came, but the long hall satisfied her need to cool off her rage. Her magic crackled in the air around her, and the glow of fire pulsed through her veins made brighter by her lack of proper attire.
She all but tore the door to the Great Hall off its hinges as she entered. The sound of the door hitting the wall echoed around the vast space along with her unladylike language. All the fires in the dark room sputtered and flared significantly in reaction to the aura of rage that consumed her. Bringing her glare off of the ground, she stopped suddenly to find she startled the only two occupants of the hall. Dorian and Cullen both turned at the noise and froze looking at her as if she was the last person they expected to come through that door. They sat at the table in front of the large fireplace that was normally occupied by their resident author, with a game of chess in the works.
She considered for a moment how this must look to them, as a draft caught her and she remembered her robe was scandalously open revealing the silky nightgown. Not sparing a look at how Cullen was reacting, instead, she focused on Dorian and his roaming eyes analyzing her. She was sure whatever clues of what she was doing at this late hour that Cullen was missing Dorian would fill in for him. Thoroughly convinced that nothing she could say or do would improve their perception of her, she continued her brisk march back to her quarters as silk billowed about her legs.
She couldn't chance a glance at either of them as she passed; she didn't want to see the disappointment and disgust that was certainly there. She looked elsewhere about the room and realized all she wanted to do was break something. A tray of wine glasses had been left by the servants on one of the tables and in passing she grabbed it and cast a mind blast spell at the door to her stairwell, flinging it open. Looking back down the hall at the two men, she saw they were watching her - judging her - the whole time, so she made sure to slam the door behind her.
She set the tray on the stone railing, placing her hands on either side of it. Her simmering rage had created an inescapable aura that was suffocating even her now. How did it come to this? How did she let it come to this? Things were quickly spiraling out of her control. She was to blame after all, maybe she should've just killed him right there in the courtyard when he first arrived; act first, ask for forgiveness later sort of thing. Ethereal flames appeared around her as the eternal flame of her mana threatened to be unleashed. Her nails dug into the stone banister and she let out a small groan at the searing heat.
Having had her eyes shut tight, fighting an inner battle, she jumped at the sound of her name being called from behind. The flames about her were pulled suddenly from the air as if a vacuum had materialized sucking it back in at the sound of his voice. She wiped her tears and running nose away with the palms of her hands before answering. Cullen was not supposed to see her like this, not in control. He was supposed to be out there venting his hatred of her to Dorian after what they had just witnessed. He didn't say anything but just looked at her with pity. Pity. What did he have to feel sorry for her about?
"I felt your magic spiking. Are you alright?"
She gave a sarcastic laugh through sniffles despite his sincerity, "Yes, Cullen, clearly I'm fine! Why the fuck wouldn't I be! Clearly…" her voice broke off after getting caught in her throat and she turned away from him sobbing. "If you knew what I've been forced to do--"
"Forced?" His expression darkened. "Forced?" He repeated it and she knew she made a mistake. He wasn't going to let it go this time as she instantly regretted her choice of words.
"You need to leave me, this is my doing."
"You're playing the protector again, aren't you? Who are you protecting and from what? Why are you doing it alone?" His questions sounded like pleas. He stepped close enough that she could see the jagged line of his scar through her teary eyes.
"Stop trying to save me, I don't deserve it!" Her lip quivered at the truth of it. She had caused so much emotional damage how could she ever be redeemed in his eyes?
"Are you truly so far into the darkness that you can no longer see? You are the Phoenix, where is your fire?" He looked at her with desperation. He knew her as well as she knew him. They had shared so much of themselves with each other, and in the past weeks, she had forgotten just how connected they had become. Yet, through it all their bond remained strong.
Spinning around, she flipped the tray of glasses off the railing. They shattered about the stairwell and the tray clattered around on the stone below. When the echo died, she wheeled around again. "You of all people should hate me for what I've done! Why--"
"Because I--"
"Don't say it!" She grabbed his shirt pulling him against her. Their foreheads touched, "Don't you dare say it." Undeterred, locking eyes with her, his lips parted to speak the forbidden phrase, so she kissed him instead. She didn't care about the consequences if someone was watching, she just needed to feel something she knew only he could stir within her. He returned her kiss with more fervent affection. Time slowed in his embrace, and her hands grabbed at any part of him they could from his hair to his waist. Cullen was doing the same, but moved his mouth to her throat as he liked, making her sigh his name like a prayer. Amid their passion, she touched an inner peace that cooled her fire, flushing from her mind of all other thoughts and worries. Only they existed in that moment, desperately trying to cling to it. Looking up at the tall ceiling of her tower, sense began to reassert itself and with a whine, she pushed him away. How could she be so stupid as to lead him on, "No, this is wrong. I can't do this to you."
"Maker's breath, Evelyn," he panted, "Tell me what's going on. Let me help you." The words were a promise to lift her out of the pit of darkness in which she was trapped. She wanted more than anything to tell him, to let him save her. Despite everything he hadn't given up on her. And yet...
"I can't." Her words had a finality about them. Tears began to swell up again and her voice barely squeaked out from her throat as she repeated the words. He let her go from his embrace taking the warmth with him. He made for the door only pausing for a moment before lifting the latch, seemingly having to force himself through the door.
Sagging to the floor, she gathered her robe around her, it now being her only solace, and sobbed until there were no more tears left to cry. No one was going to save her; she always knew it, but in that moment, she felt it more keenly than ever. What made things worse was the way she was hurting Cullen. The poor man had enough weighing on his mind without her breaking his heart. Somehow, she picked herself up and trudged up the stairs to her room emptied of emotion.
Sitting in front of the dying fire, she resigned herself to the unfortunate truth; there was no coming away from this clean either way. They were no longer in the Circle; he had no real authority over her, the Inquisitor. She didn't get that title from backing down from a fight. Ryker may have broken her wings, but he forgot about her claws. She was The Phoenix, and like the bird of legend, she'd rise from the ashes to fly again stronger than ever.
As night turned to dawn, the flames of the fire before her roared to life she felt a new resolve. An idea flickered to life in her mind. He thought he owned her, that she was a puppet to dance to his every command, but she would test the strength of those strings. Having already done so twice and seeing the fear that she could instill in him, she had some leverage. He would have to tread carefully if he wanted to keep up his charade and concede some of his power to her. As her plan was in full motion with her mother leaving today and hopefully the remaining phylacteries destroyed by now, Ryker had no idea of the reckoning coming for him.
She went to dress knowing everyone would be gathering for breakfast soon. Though she didn't have one wink of sleep, she was past the point of exhaustion, but her defiance fueled her every action. She inspected herself in the mirror seeing her red puffy eyes and splashed cold water on them. To her pleasant affirmation, Cullen had left marks on her neck like she was counting on. The spotting would no doubt draw her mother's attention, perfect, she thought. She took out a light cotton shirt she typically spared in paired with her unusual pants and boots. Tucking the shirt in, she fluttered the neckline about loosely until it rested so the smallest bit of the Commander's marks was visible. Quickly twisting her hair into a low messy bun, she was ready.
As expected, everyone was gathered at the table quietly enjoying their meal or reading reports. Ryker, Owayne, and her mother were seated at one end of the table, and Cullen and Dorian at the other. In between was Leliana, Josephine, Varric, and Ilara just as it used to be for dinners before her mother spoiled things. It seems they were all there to see her off, no doubt as excited as Evelyn was. There was a bowl of fruit perfectly positioned in the center of the table near her mother. Saying her good mornings along with a special greeting for her mother's last breakfast with them, the Inquisitor caught the attention of all as she nonchalantly reached for an apple nice and slow...
"Really, Evelyn, cover yourself up!" Her mother's eye for flaws had sprung the trap. Everyone looked up from their current occupation at Lady Trevelyan's scandalous phrasing. Ryker chewed on a sausage while looking her over with a critical eye. Despite the broken nose, it seemed he had got it healed and even put makeup on it to dull the bruising. It was still discolored enough if one looked closely to see something was off.
"What are you talking about, Mother?" She said in an indifferent tone, looking down at herself shrugging.
The matron tried to keep her voice down, pulling her daughter by the shoulder down close, but the others at the table were silent enough that she might as well have not even tried. "Your neck. The two of you need to practice more discretion before you're wed. We don't need any question when it comes to your virginity." Ryker looked up and his brows dropped down low as he noticed the spotting along the length of her neck. She watched intently as the color on his face rose.
With no tact whatsoever, she replied in her normal voice, "Oh, well that ship has long sailed, but not to worry mother, these aren't from him." Cullen choked and sputtered out the tea he was drinking. She smiled wickedly at Ryker as he looked from her to the Commander. The amused looks and suppressed laughter of all at the table were clear.
"Evelyn Althea Trevelyan!" She rolled her eyes at the use of her full name as if a child, "You are a lady and I expect you to act like one!"
"No mother. I'm the Inquisitor, let's not forget that," she set her raptor gaze on her fiancée, "let none of us forget that." The hour bell rang and the advisors rose from their seats to head for the War Room for their morning meeting. Josie passed her some notes that she began shuffling through delaying her from following the council in.
Ryker shot up looking ready to shred her to pieces, "My lady, may I have a private word with you?"
She looked up from the letters looking unamused and unflinching. His face contorted in rage, but he reluctantly quelled it as those around her tensed ready to come to her defense. All eyes were on him, and she could tell by his nervous ticking that it was uncomfortable for him. He was a Templar grunt, not born of the nobility with a real penchant for attention except in front of few. Now he stood among her friends, her allies, all deadly and dangerous in their own rights. With her mother leaving soon, she wanted him to know just how alone he was.
Looking to her advisors who were now waiting by the door to Josephine's office, she told them she'd be a moment. "Would you like another scone while we wait, Josie?" Leliana said light and airy.
"Yes, I think I would. Commander, there's one blueberry left, your favorite?"
"Thank you, Ambassador." The three stood watching them in solidarity. Though their expressions were calm on the surface, there was no hiding the threat beneath.
"Come, my lord, just over here." She led him to the dais and faced him away from their watchful eyes so he could spew whatever threats at her he wished without them seeing. She knew her Spymaster and Ambassador could read lips, so even she would need to be careful. With that in mind, and with a stern look as she put herself close to his face, she spoke trying not to move her lips too much, "Before you threaten me, keep in mind we are being watched closely by two experts of The Game. Every move and sound you make could give you away."
"Fine, " he said clenching every body part of his so tightly, she thought he'd explode like gaatlok, "What in Andraste's fucking name do you think you're doing?"
She placed her marked hand gently on his chest, knowing it made him uncomfortable, "As much as you believe you are in control, you're frightened of me." The mark on her hand sparked as he eyed it, "Without me, you're nothing, you have nothing. Last night, you damaged my reputation and by doing so, hurt the Inquisition. That mage is no doubt telling everyone she knows about what happened. A relationship goes two ways, and if you'd like to be spiteful and vengeful then I will too."
"Do you forget who has your phylacteries, you stupid whore, before you spread your legs for him?"
"No, I didn't. But if you forfeit them, then you give up the one thing you want and need the most. Me. As you can see, one word and my friends here will have you torn to shreds. The only thing stopping them from doing so is my good will. I wonder, are you willing to sacrifice me so readily?" They held each other in an intense gaze. She was taking a huge risk, but he had built a future for them in the Free Marches and if he had to guess, it would take more for him to destroy his well-laid plans. He went to speak, but she shushed him, "For the record, I kissed him, nothing more."
"What about before all this? Did you let him fuck you?"
"No, I've never laid with him." She knew it was a sore point for him, and that perhaps if he knew that it would temper his reaction. He paused narrowing his eyes at her, mulling it over in his head. "Now, if you don't mind, my lord, I have work to do."
"One more thing," he halted her, getting even closer now, "I knew you'd do something stupid like this, so I no longer feel guilty about sending Ser Ryker Aeron's account of the fall of Ostwick's Circle to every important person Lord Armand knows and to the White Spire. It was his last testimony before succumbing to his fatal wounds inflicted by you. It does not paint you in a very flattering light. It'll probably take some time for news to circulate, but give it a few days and all of Thedas will be prattling on about it." Her eyes grew wide at the realization of what he had done, "I assure you the account is quite damning and it will take all the influence of the Inquisition to get you out of this one, including enlisting the help of your dearest fiancée. " She stuttered her gaping mouth, "That's right darling, you keep thinking that you have power over me. Take care, or you will find every Templar here with a copy of it in their hands, and we'll see then how you like it when I set fire to your own home. Now, run along to your little meeting." He swaggered away over to her mother who wore a worried expression as if he was calling off the engagement. With a sigh of relief, he hooked arms with her, and the two waltzed out of the Great Hall.
"Inquisitor?" While the ladies had already started for the War Room, the Commander stayed behind. She shook herself, scrambling as to what to do about this new development. Should she tell them? They would want to know how she knew and the truth of it was messy. A hand went to rub at her forehead, trying to sort through the pieces, completely ignoring the man walking now beside her. When they were alone before the War Room doors, he stopped her with an arm corralling her gently up against the wall. She winced, becoming used to what usually comes next, "Maker, what do you think I'm going to do to you? I wasn't going to," he hushed his words, "kiss you again. I just want to know what in the Void that was out there?"
She relaxed slightly, but her mind was still far away working the problem, "What are you talking about?"
"You used me for whatever game you're playing with your fiancée," he was scowling at her. "So, since you've involved me, you'll tell me what's going on, now." He wasn't asking, it was a command.
"I can't do this now, Cullen. I have a bigger problem."
"A bigger--" he clamped his jaw shut tight before, as his anger rose, "I can't bloody keep up with you! I find you all but losing control last night and you kiss me, then this morning you're throwing my feelings to the wind - not to mention in Armand's face - uncaring of how I feel now that everyone knows about us!" He paused to let it sink in, "Damnit Evelyn, tell me what's going on?!"
She could still feel that her eyes were wide and her breathing was shallow. Looking down at her feet feeling ashamed that she had done that, having only thought about revenge, she couldn't meet his eyes, "Last night before you saw me, I found him in bed with another woman."
Reluctantly, she raised her gaze finding his full of apoplexy, "So, I was just revenge then?"
"No!"
"I was… To think I thought for a moment…" The look of immense disappointment on his face and in his tone was like a dagger to the heart.
"No, you weren't! Cullen…" He looked as if the wind was knocked out of him. "Maker, that's not what it was, I--" She placed both hands on his breastplate, "I swear at that moment, I had no intention of it. I don't care who he beds! How do I explain..."
He grasped her wrists, pulling them off of him, "Why do you not care? Right, I forgot nobles sleep with anyone but their spouse. I suppose Armand saved me from that fate."
Her head snapped to him, suddenly enraged at what he was implying. She slapped him, "How dare you! I--" A swift and thundering rage overwhelmed her as a fireball formed in her fist and she threw it at the far wall, "Fuck!"
"Evelyn," it was a warning, knowing he was feeling the swell of her mana bubbling to the surface.
She growled, "You have no idea, what I've been dealing with!" Her mood swung suddenly, as her rage was replaced with despair. A sob escaped her, "This meeting is postponed, tell the others." He called after her but she had run down the hall through the Ambassador's office and out into the Great Hall. Quickly heading up into her room, she locked the door and sat out on the balcony that faced out to the vast nothingness of the Frostbacks. Breathing in the cool air to temper her inner fire, she threw her head back against the stone wall. Things were out of control from recent events to her emotions, and chaos reigned. Maker, what was she going to do?