Chapter 59: Her Manipulation
Marek slammed the door of his carriage shut and stormed toward his house. His chest still rose and fell in uneven rhythm. The air around him felt thick, as if it carried the weight of his frustration back with him from the palace. Every step he took only reminded him of how furious he was.
Aveloria’s slap still burned on his face. Her voice, shaking with anger, replayed in his head over and over. He hadn’t meant to lose control like that. He hadn’t meant to grab her or speak so harshly, but she pushed him to the edge, again and again. She always did.
When he reached the front door, he barely noticed the guards who opened it for him. He walked straight into the main hall, eyes dark and jaw tight.
Inside, he froze.
His father, Eldric, sat in the living room with a cup of wine in hand. And beside him, leaning comfortably against the couch, was Rowena. Her lips curved into a smile as soon as she saw him.
"Marek, you’re finally here." She greeted softly.
He exhaled sharply and rubbed the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted was company, especially her.
Eldric noticed his son’s expression immediately. "Where have you been?" he asked, voice casual but observant. "Rowena has been waiting for you for nearly an hour."
Marek didn’t respond. He was already halfway across the room, heading for the stairs.
"Marek," Eldric’s tone sharpened slightly, forcing him to stop. "Don’t be rude. You should at least hear what she came to say."
Marek’s shoulders tensed. He turned slightly, glancing at his father, then at Rowena. Her expression was calm, patient, almost too patient.
"I’m not in the mood," he muttered.
Eldric raised a brow. "Then make yourself in the mood. I’ll be in my study." He stood, gave a nod to Rowena, and left them alone.
The silence that followed was tense. Rowena tilted her head, studying him.
"You look like you’ve fought a bear," she said quietly, standing to face him. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he replied, his tone clipped.
She crossed her arms and stepped closer. "That’s not ’nothing.’ You look like you could break something in half. Tell me."
He sighed, trying to calm his breathing. "I said I’m fine, Rowena."
"No, you’re not," she insisted, her voice firm but soft. "Come on, Marek. Talk to me. Maybe I can help."
He stared at her for a moment. She wasn’t going to let it go. And honestly, part of him wanted to say it out loud, to spill what was eating him alive.
"Fine, but not here." He said, finally.
He walked toward the corridor leading to his study. Rowena followed quietly. The study was smaller than the grand hall, dimly lit, filled with papers, books, and the scent of ink and wood polish. He shut the door behind them.
Marek went straight to his desk, rested his palms on the surface, and stayed silent for a while. Rowena waited.
"It’s Aveloria. You know she’s grounded, right?" he finally said.
Rowena blinked. "Yes, grounded by the King."
He nodded. "Yeah. So I went to see her. Thought I could talk to her and ask questions about what happened."
Rowena’s expression softened. "And?"
"And she asked me to help her. Said she has a lot to do, that she doesn’t have time to be locked up."
"That sounds like her," Rowena said under her breath.
Marek looked at her. "I told her no."
Rowena’s brows rose slightly. "Why?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "Because...because I liked that she was locked up. At least she won’t be running around with the others. She won’t have them hovering over her like she’s some prize to be fought over."
Rowena stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes watching him closely. "You mean the others...her other mates."
He nodded stiffly.
"And how did she react?"
"She said I was being unreasonable," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Unreasonable? As if I’m the one going around smiling at every man while pretending to be above it all."
Rowena took a small step closer. "She said that?"
"Not exactly like that," Marek muttered, frustration building again. "But that’s what she meant. She doesn’t see how unfair she is. Always defending them, always putting me second. Or last."
Rowena’s lips curved slightly, not in a smile, but in quiet satisfaction. "You’ve been too patient with her," she said softly. "I’ve seen the way you hold yourself back, Marek. The way you look at her and then pretend like you don’t care. It’s not fair that she keeps playing with your emotions."
"She’s not—"
"She is," Rowena interrupted gently. "You’re not blind. She keeps all of you close, but she doesn’t really let anyone in. Especially you. You give and she takes. And you still think she’ll eventually understand you."
Marek frowned, his throat tight. He hated how much those words hit.
"You don’t know her like I do," he said defensively.
"Maybe not," Rowena admitted. "But I know you. And I know you’re trying to be what she wants, even when it’s killing you. That’s not love, Marek. That’s punishment."
He looked away. Her words dug deep, deeper than he wanted to admit.
Rowena moved closer, slow and deliberate. "You’ve done everything for her. You’ve fought for her, bled for her, and stayed loyal while she looks at others. And what do you get in return? A slap in the face."
Marek flinched slightly. He didn’t know if she meant that literally or not, but it didn’t matter. The point stood.
"She doesn’t see you. She sees what she wants to see. But you? You deserve someone who actually looks at you."Rowena said quietly.
Her voice softened even more, her tone dipping into something almost intimate. She reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. "You deserve to be loved, Marek. Not used. Not compared."
He caught her wrist before her hand could go any further. "Rowena, don’t." He said, voice low.
"I’m not doing anything wrong." Rowena shrugged, her voice seductive.
