Rain fell steadily across the stain glass windows of the gallery. Evie moved quietly through the brightly lit room, her gaze drifting slowly over various paintings of Vix's former leaders. When she came to a portrait of her birth parents she stopped and studied first her mother's face and then her father's. Both wore stern expressions, yet Evie had a feeling that her mother's expression would be softer if she'd not been stuck posing with a man like Richard. She had never met the couple, but from the stories Muriel had shared with her, she knew her mother was not a cruel hearted woman. Her father, she learned was greedy, selfish, and cared only for himself. "I pray I never turn out like you," she whispered to the well-crafted portrait.
"You won't."
Evie's pulse quickened. She turned and took in Drest's appearance at the gallery's threshold. "Good day," she greeted him, then moved away from the picture to stand in front of one of the decorated windows. She watched the water flow down it's warbled surface. Her fingers reached out to trace the haphazard pattern as her mind tried to not focus on the man behind her.
His footsteps echoed through the room as he walked across it's polished floor. Eventually he reached her side and stood quietly beside her. "It seems our plans to ride this afternoon have been stolen from us."
Evie shrugged her shoulders and sighed softly. "Yes, it has. Perhaps another day."
"Oh, no doubts there. But since we can not ride, then perhaps there is something else we can do?"
She closed her eyes, pushing away the tempting thoughts that always seemed to assail her whenever Drest was present. Yes, there were many things she'd rather do. Things that he'd made her dream of since the first touch of his skin to hers, and the first kiss, the way he had licked her flesh and teased her body. Yes, those things were a constant on her mind and then 'that woman' would suddenly appear in her thoughts. Viviane. The very idea of the busty mongrel and Drest together, made her stomach twist into knots. Evie shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, then moved away from Drest.
"Evelyn."
She stopped, stiffened and waited for him to speak his mind.
"Will you ever forgive me?"
Evie bit down on her lower lip. She had been asking herself that same question during the wee hours of her many sleepless nights. "I am trying," she whispered.
"Are you?"
She felt him close the distance between them. Her lip trembled as his hand rested on her shoulder. He squeezed it gently and urged her to turn toward him. Evie remained steadfast in her place, refusing to move.
"Evelyn. I could not help myself with her. I admit this to you. It is something I will always regret. I too am disgusted with my actions, but if you only knew. . .if you knew the power within her touch, then perhaps you would understand better."
Evelyn swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head. "I do understand power. Rebecca was forced to do things she didn't want to do. Vile acts that no woman would ever desire or want to enjoy. . ." Her words ended in a whisper as she told the lie.
She knew Rebecca hadn't enjoyed the things she'd done with Bagdemagus, but she knew during those last few days of Rebecca's life, she'd enjoyed secret meetings with Cedric. Evelyn hadn't been privy to the actions themselves, but she was very much aware of what had gone on during those morning hours, afternoon dalliances, and late night interludes. Experienced she was not; living in a village surrounded by women and men that made coin by offering themselves however, left little to the imagination.
"Are you so sure?"
Drest's question brought Evie back to the feel of his hand on her shoulder. She felt herself leaning back into him, pressing her back to his chest. His fingers crept up to her neck, the pads of them brushing lazily against the corded muscle and flesh. "Rebecca cared deeply for Cedric. He provided her with hours of pleasure, drove out the nightmares that Bagdemagus had driven into her," Drest whispered against her temple.
"Do you have nightmares? Of you and Viviane?" Evelyn asked, her voice somewhat breathless as his fingers continued to slide lazily across her skin, pausing to caress circles into the flesh.
"No. I do not. I don't dream of her, nor do I want her. She's been removed from my life. I do not miss her, especially now that I am desiring someone else. . .this time with my own free will."
Evelyn closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She wanted to believe him. Her desires for him were growing more and more each day, yet to give him all of herself, meant that she would have to trust him. Trust was such a difficult thing to give. Only Cedric and Muriel did she truly trust and even they were kept at a distance, simply because she felt it kept them safer. She'd loved her foster parents. Bagdemagus had killed them. She cared for Rebecca and she too was now dead. Who would be next?
She pulled herself away and turned to face the man she was falling in love with. Evelyn took a deep breath and forced her emotions down. "Prince Drest, I know that you have helped me with many things. You have aided me in swordplay, archery, and advised me on the ways of politics both when dealing with those in my counsel, but also with Bagdemagus. Benedict alone makes you worthy of a medal," her last statement was said with a soft, though weak smile, "I think it is best that you and your entourage return to Ural."
Drest's frown told her that he was set on arguing with her. She lifted her hand to cut off any words he thought of offering to her. "I know you feel responsible for me, but you are not. We are not betrothed, nor have you made an offer. . .and no that is not some secret feminine hint for you to. I simply feel that Bagdemagus is my problem and therefore I shall have to thwart him myself."
"Evelyn. I am not leaving and I will offer for you, but right now is not the right time. There is too much happening, too many unanswered questions, and most of all, you do not yet trust me. Only then will I ask for you to be my wife. On the topic of Bagdemagus; he may be Vix's problem now, but if he succeeds in his plans, what makes you think Ural will not be next to garner his attentions? Or perhaps Wilshire? Taxing? Coral Peak?"
"Those are small kingdoms; what would he gain from them?"
Drest shook his head. "What would it matter? To him it would just solidify his strength. Why stop at one keep when you can conquer hundreds?"
Evelyn frowned. "You are correct. Again you point out to me another reason I am ill fit for this position."
"Evie," he whispered, stepping into her personal space and placing his hands on either side of her arms, "you are very fit for this position. You just don't want it."
She looked up at him and knew he spoke the truth. She had never wanted to be Queen. She had always lived as a peasant and had enjoyed it far more than she enjoyed leading the people of Vix. Her shoulders sagged and she lowered her head in shame. "I wish there were another to take my place."
Drest's fingers moved to her chin and he tipped her face up. "There is no one, but you. Will you ever accept that?"
"I'm trying."
