Free Web NovelChapter 41: 41 Doomed for Destruction
Elian was a few feet behind Lucien as they walked outside the mansion.
The royal, black carriage was already waiting for them to depart, and Elian was left to wonder exactly where he was supposed to sit.
"It’s just a few days; you won’t die," Rowan slowly walked over to Elian, smiling.
Elian sighed, glancing at Rowena. "I don’t know," he shrugged.
"I know," Rowan said, his gaze lowering to Elian’s gloved hands. "He made you wear these... why?" Rowan gently took Elian’s hand, rubbing his thumb against the smooth, gloved palm.
Elian nodded. "I don’t know," he lied.
He couldn’t just say why... Rowan wouldn’t even believe him. Worse, Rowan might start to fear him and stay away. He didn’t want to lose the friendship he’d found with Rowan; yes, Rowan was a noble, but he was a noble noble.
"It’s time to leave," Rowan tilted his head toward the carriage as the coachman walked toward the door.
Elian sighed. "Goodbye," he said, stepping away from Rowan.
"See you in a few moons, my friend," Rowan told Elian.
Not looking back, Elian walked down the stairs, his gaze lowered.
Rowena paused beside the carriage just as the coachman lowered the steps for her. Her eyes swept briefly over Elian before she smiled sweetly at Lucien beside her.
"Surely the traitor’s son does not expect to ride beside royalty?" she asked lightly. Without waiting for an answer, she glanced toward the front of the carriage. "He may sit with the coachman."
Lucien’s eyes flicked briefly toward Elian at the word coachman, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. But in the end, he said nothing.
"Get in, my Princess," he murmured calmly.
Elian’s jaw tightened faintly, but he lowered his gaze. "Of course, Princess."
Rowena smiled in satisfaction before allowing Lucien to help her into the carriage.
Elian felt humiliated as he walked to the front. He lifted his head and found the middle-aged coachman nodding for him to join him. With a resigned look, Elian climbed onto the coach box beside the coachman.
"Evening, sir," he greeted, lacing his fingers together as the first whoosh of cold air blew against his skin.
The coachman only gave him a small nod before he gently drove them away and toward the gates.
As they rode outside the gates, Elian couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if he tried to make a run for it. He might just be caught and imprisoned once again.
The wheels crunched against the stones and gravel as they approached the forest path, the cold night wind biting against Elian’s skin. He gritted his teeth, refusing to shiver from the cold; the ride had just started, and he needed to save his strength for the road.
He refused to let his thoughts wander inside the carriage, forcing his mind to focus on the darkness ahead and the sounds of the hooting owls.
Inside, Rowena settled comfortably within the velvet-lined carriage beside Lucien, a soft smile tugging her lips. Meanwhile, the man beside her wasn’t smiling; he looked so rigid one might mistake him for a statue.
The night was chilling, and he couldn’t stop wondering how Elian was sitting out there without a jacket or a coat. He couldn’t sit still, his entire being itching to stop the carriage and demand that Elian come inside. But he couldn’t—not when the princess was right beside him, and not when he was on his way to the King’s palace.
"It’s a peaceful night, my love," Rowena said softly, moving closer to Lucien.
Lucien blinked, nodding once. "It is."
Rowena sighed. "And..." She gently placed her hand on Lucien’s thigh, slowly moving it upward. "It’s quite a long journey," she whispered, her face tilting up toward Lucien’s neck.
Lucien didn’t react; he simply placed his hand over Rowena’s before she could reach his center, his head lightly turning to her.
"Before our engagement, I was made to believe you are a woman of discipline, and compared to other princesses from neighboring kingdoms, you showed the best discipline." He took her hand, kissing the back of it. "That is what drew me to you. Do not change that, my Princess," he said, gently placing her hand back in her lap.
Rowena’s cheeks flushed crimson in embarrassment as she subtly drew away from Lucien. She hated being rejected, and Lucien had done just that.
"Do you really want me?" she whispered.
There was silence for a while; only the sounds of wheels on gravel and crickets echoed around them. And then, Lucien inhaled very quietly, turning his face to her.
"I wouldn’t agree to marry you if I did not want you, Rowena," he used her name for emphasis this time.
Rowena chuckled softly. "It does not feel like you do. I tell you how much I love you every little chance I get... you’ve never told me that. I feel unwanted, Lucien... that’s how I feel," she whispered, sniffling.
Lucien gently pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. "I do want you, my Princess. And... I do love you. That is why your honor is important to me; I can’t take away your virtue and make you a laughingstock to the whole kingdom on our wedding night. I’m protecting you, not rejecting you," he murmured, slowly rubbing his hand along her back.
Rowena took a deep, calming breath, lifting her teary face to Lucien. "You’re protecting me... I never thought of it that way." She smiled, biting her lip.
Lucien gave her a small smile and nodded.
Rowena straightened, cupping Lucien’s jaw. "Kiss me," she whispered.
Lucien’s hand fisted behind her, and for a moment, he wanted to refuse and move over to the other seat in front of them. Instead, he moved his hand behind her neck and lowered his lips to hers.
Rowena was smiling secretly as Lucien leaned in. She knew he was all about discipline, but she wasn’t a party to any of that. She was set out to have him tonight, and if seduction didn’t work, then pity would.
She was expecting a deep, sensual kiss that would set her soul on fire, but all she felt was a warm, soft press of Lucien’s lips on hers, and then it was gone.
"Lucien," Rowena hooked her arm around Lucien’s neck before he could pull away, pulling him back down. "Not that kind of kiss, my darling. Like this." She claimed Lucien’s lips in a full, wet kiss.
Lucien sat frozen, letting Rowena’s lips do whatever she wanted with his. He felt her lips, but at the same time, he didn’t.
It wasn’t like Elian’s.
He had thought kissing someone was a boring activity, and he had believed so until that night Elian showed up at his door. For the first time, he realized that a simple touch of someone’s lips on yours could set your whole body in flames and snatch away your ability to think or breathe.
There he sat, mouth to mouth with the princess of their kingdom, but his treacherous mind was filled with the face and taste of the traitor’s son outside the carriage.
He knew it was a sacrilege, and therefore tried to respond to the kiss, but no matter how he tried, he could not bring himself to kiss her back, neither could he stop the thoughts of a certain blue-eyed traitor from blocking his thoughts.
Rowena suddenly pulled away, her face ashen with anger. "I think I will rest now," she murmured, lowering her face and moving far away from Lucien.
"Rowena—"
"I will rest now, Lucien," Rowena said, her voice dismissive.
Lucien sighed, his hand slowly fisting beside him as he realized what had just happened. He couldn’t believe he’d turned to stone while a woman kissed him, and that’s not the scary part... he had been thinking about a man; that was the scary part.
"I’m sorry, Rowena," he murmured.
But Rowena didn’t speak to him; she hugged her arms around herself, letting her hair fall over the side of her face. She couldn’t look Lucien in the eyes at the moment, not after making a fool out of herself.
The ride continued into an awkward, heavy one. The air inside the carriage thickened with awkward silence and unspoken resentment. Making both occupants wish they hadn’t embarked on the journey.
Lucien only let his mind wallow on his actions for a while before he found himself thinking of the man outside the carriage. The night was getting colder, and he could imagine the tip of Elian’s nose turning red and cold as the wind chilled his body. His hand clutched the coat around him, a thought forming in his head.
In the end, he released his coat and clenched his jaw. He couldn’t do it. Why did he even want to do it in the first place?
Elian deserved it, right? After all, he was a traitor’s son, deserving of no mercy.
Lucien shut his eyes, a subtle possessiveness washing over him as he fought hard to suppress the ever-rising need to ask Elian to get inside the carriage. He’d never felt something as strong as the strange pull within him; it felt like he was growing powerless against it as moments passed, and it alarmed him. What was he to do if one day those voices and urges grew stronger than his will?
It would be a disaster!
Finn was right. He had already made that decision toward his downfall.
Elian was that decision, yet he had no plans of reverting that decision.
In the end, he was doomed for destruction.
