Chapter 7: Five Minutes
The frost sealed the carriage as soon as they left the estate grounds. Esme sat with her knees crossed, her dress pooling across the black leather like blood. She looked like a painting, resting her chin on her knuckles and staring out the window. Across from her, Eveyr’s eyes were fixed on the plunging neckline of her gown.
"You wore this to test my restraint, didn’t you?" he said, his tone accusatory.
"I wore it because I look exquisite, Your Grace," Esme replied, sounding bored. "Are you going to sit there and scowl like a sulky child the entire evening? If so, I’d rather turn the carriage around."
He didn’t answer her with words. Instead, a thick tendril of shadow slid from his wrist and wrapped around her collarbones, covering her throat and the curve of her breast like a choker.
"Don’t you think it’s a bit much for a necklace?"
"It’s not a necklace. It’s a collar."
"I’m not a dog, Eveyr."
"No, you’re not. Dogs are loyal because they’re trained. But you...you’ll be loyal because the alternative is every man in that palace bleeding from empty eye sockets."
She rolled her eyes and looked away.
"I’m reminding you again, wife," he whispered. "If they look at you, I won’t just threaten them. I will simply remove their eyes."
Before she could reply, the system pulsed in her vision.
[Obsession Meter: 43%]
She didn’t ask him to remove the shadow collar. She knew that prying it off would only make things worse before they even arrived, and she needed him controlled enough to walk into the palace without murdering the doorman.
After another hour, the carriage finally stopped in the grand circular driveway of the Crown Prince’s Palace. The air was filled with the sound of carriage wheels, and pretentious laughter of the nobles.
The door to their carriage swung open. A young footman appeared at the door. He extended his white gloved hand towards Esme to help her down, offering a polite smile.
"Duchess Aldric, please allow me to..."
Before he could finish, a spike of shadow erupted from Eveyr’s boot and wrapped around the footman’s extended wrist. It twisted, snapping the footman’s arm backward at an impossible angle. The footman collapsed onto the ground, screaming as he clutched his shattered wrist against his chest.
The surrounding aristocrats and servants gasped, a wave of terror sweeping over the courtyard.
"Was this necessary?" Esme sighed as she stepped out of the carriage on her own and stood beside the whimpering man.
"He looked at the curve of your breasts," Eveyr replied coldly, stepping down after her. "He was also imagining the warmth of your hand in his. He is lucky I left him with his eyes."
She didn’t argue. It was pointless. His hand instantly gripped her waist and pulled her closer, leaving no space between them. He removed the shadow collar from her throat as his fur cape draped over her back to hide her bare back from the hundreds of eyes watching them.
As they stepped through the towering golden doors into the grand foyer of the Imperial Palace, the chatter of nobles died instantly. They had expected the Monster of the North to arrive alone, assuming he had already buried his fragile bride. And were expecting a funeral announcement.
Instead, they saw Esme, who looked less like a victim and more like the queen. The whispers began instantly.
"Is that the Sterling girl?"
"I thought the beast would have buried her by dawn."
"She doesn’t look afraid."
"Look at how he is holding her."
At the top of the grand staircase stood Crown Prince Julian—blonde, blue eyes, dressed in white and gold. He held a champagne flute in one hand and watched them with keen interest.
But as he looked at Esme carefully, his glass stopped halfway to his mouth. His smile didn’t waver, but his eyes narrowed slightly. A gray-haired man quickly appeared beside the prince and leaned close to his ear.
"Your Highness. Our asset survived the wedding night. Shall I make contact?"
"No," he murmured. "That is not the terrified spy we planted in the monster’s bed, Sylas. Look at her. She didn’t just survive...she put a leash on the beast."
He descended the stairs and walked straight towards Esme and Eveyr.
"Ah...the Warlord and his...," he paused, glancing between Eveyr and Esme, "surviving bride. I am surprised she can still walk, Eveyr. Rumour had it you locked her in the coldest tower of your estate."
The temperature around them dropped as Eveyr’s grip on her waist tightened even more. Before Eveyr could respond, an Imperial Guard standing next to the prince laughed.
"Maybe the beast has gone soft..."
Eveyr raised two fingers, and a blade of shadow shot up from the floor, slicing through the guard’s knees. The guard collapsed, shrieking.
"Keep your dogs on a leash, Julian," Eveyr said, without glancing at the collapsed guard. "Or I will butcher them on your father’s stairs, and make you clean up the mess."
Julian looked down at his bleeding, sobbing guard. Then back at Eveyr. He didn’t look afraid. He looked like he was calculating something.
He is the main lead of the novel. And this is the ball where he is supposed to meet the heroine.
Esme looked around, searching for the female lead, but couldn’t find her.
In the novel, I don’t think there was such a scene between him and Eveyr. Could it be because I survived? Did the plot change?
"My apologies, Duke," Julian said calmly. "I’ll make sure they stay in their limits."
Then his gaze shifted to Esme. She was watching the bleeding guard with detached interest. And he realized the monster was entirely out of control now, and the leash was in the hands of the very spy he had sent to break him. He smirked and walked back up the stairs.
"Get him off the floor," Julian ordered the servants as he passed the bleeding guard. "He is staining the marble."
The grand doors to the ballroom opened. Silence fell instantly the moment Eveyr stepped inside with Esme. Every eye turned to them. Men in the crowd stared at her openly, their eyes moving from the curve of her waist to the plunge of her neckline.
An elderly earl nearby had stopped mid-sip, his eyes raking over Esme’s body. Eveyr stopped walking and flicked his wrist. A needle of shadow shot across the ballroom and shattered the earl’s crystal glass. Its shards embedded themselves into his palm and cheek.
Panic rippled through the crowd. A woman screamed while someone else shouted for a healer.
"They are looking at you,"Eveyr whispered. "But you don’t have to worry. I will deal with them."
The system flickered rapidly in her vision.
[Obsession Meter: 43% → 47%]
"Let them look," Esme murmured, completely unbothered.
I need him to stop hurting people. If this goes on, no one will talk to me.
She reached down and began prying his fingers off her waist one by one. He resisted, but she didn’t stop.
"I need a drink, Eveyr," she whispered. "So...be a good husband and give me five minutes alone."
She removed his last finger and stepped out of his grip. Eveyr’s hand hovered in the empty space where her waist had been. His fingers curled slowly.
"Esme...do not walk away from me."
"Just five minutes, Eveyr. I’ll be at the bar."
She turned and walked into the crowd. Behind her, Eveyr stood like a statue. His eyes followed her every movement without blinking.
The system immediately blazed in her vision.
[SYSTEM WARNING: Separation Anxiety Triggered!]
+80 Points.
Obsession Meter: 47% → 50%
Target’s restraint is failing. Prepare for immediate fallout.
