Chapter 19: Smoked Lies
Bryant's POV
I entered my chambers, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders. The council meeting had dragged on longer than necessary, as usual—filled with old men who loved the sound of their own voices.
I loosened the high collar around my neck and tossed my gloves onto the nearest table. My eyes scanned the documents scattered across my desk, but one in particular caught my attention.
Red Blossom Pack.
The name sat on the folder like a wound that hadn't healed. I picked it up slowly, flipping through the contents. Maps. Reports. Photos. One caught my eye—a burnt crest half-torn but unmistakable.
I let out a tired sigh and leaned back, grabbing the wine goblet. One long sip later and the pounding in my head didn't ease. The migraines were getting worse. Insomnia gnawed at my mind each night like a rabid beast.
Except…
That night.
The night Rosa laid in my arms—her skin warm against mine, her scent like crushed roses and honey. For the first time in months… I had slept. Like a cursed soul finding momentary peace.
I didn't know what that meant.
Before I could spiral further into that thought, the sharp voice of the palace announcer echoed from outside my chamber.
> "Her Highness, Princess Matilda, requests an audience."
I groaned inwardly.
The door opened with a confident click, and Matilda strutted in like she still owned the place. No hesitation. No greeting.
She pulled at the ties of her robe and let the fabric drop, revealing a crimson lace lingerie that clung to her like temptation. Her hips swayed as she approached, eyes dark with hunger.
I didn't move.
> "What the hell is this?" I asked coldly.
She pouted, lifting one leg to my chair's armrest.
> "Come on, Bryant… don't act like this. We both know what we had."
> "I'm married," I stated flatly.
She ignored that, sliding onto my lap—but before her body could press against mine, I said it again, louder this time.
> "Dress up."
She paused.
> "Don't do this, Bryant."
> "Get out."
There was silence.
Then came the storm.
> "Really?" she snapped, pulling back with fury in her eyes. "You're pushing me away for her? That weakling? She can't even handle you. You're fire, Bryant. She's... wet ash. You need a woman who won't shatter under you."
She ran her hand across my chest and started trailing lower.
That was it.
I shoved her away, not harshly but firmly. She stumbled back, her bare feet dragging across the polished floor until she hit the closed door.
> "Dress. Up. And. Get. Out." I said, voice low and dangerous. "Don't test my patience again."
Matilda coughed, a bit of blood spotting her lips from the fall. She spat to the side, wiped her mouth, and glared at me with betrayal.
Then her lips curled into a cruel smile.
> "Fine." She picked up her gown slowly, slipping it on like it was a victory robe. "Enjoy her while you can."
She turned at the door, then looked over her shoulder.
> "She was in the market yesterday. With Edward. Laughing. Eating. Touching." She paused, watching me carefully. "You know what to do."
And with that, she walked out, leaving silence in her wake.
I remained seated, her words echoing.
With Edward…?
The migraine returned, but this time, it wasn't from stress.
It was from rage.
And confusion.
Because the thought of Rosa with another man didn't just bother me…
It burned.
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