Chapter 3:Kick A Puppy
Adeline wanted to know what he meant. Unfortunately, the music halted. It was then she noticed no one else had been dancing. She was so swept up in his world, that she had forgotten about everyone else. As if lost in a trance, he had enraptured her, body and soul.
"This time, it's my turn to disappear at midnight," he cooed, his lips brushing upon her ear, tickling the sensitive flesh.
His taunt rang like bells in her ears.
Adeline's pale cheeks flushed a bright red that put tomatoes to shame. "I didn't mean to leave!" she blurted out in a meek, frantic voice.
The idea of her fleeing in the middle of the night, haphazardly dressed, left her mortified. Her dignity and etiquette was long forgotten. It felt like she was a man afraid of being caught cheating by his wife, thus ran from the mistress' bed in a hurry.
He certainly stared at her like a scorned mistress. Especially with his narrowed eyes and daunting smirk.
"I would love to stick around and discuss more about the cold bed I woke up to, but I have places to be, people to meet, and humans to kill," he said.
Adeline nervously laughed. The sound was cut short by his piercing glare. His smile remained, but his eyes were cold. Her blood chilled.
He was serious.
Without another word, he spun his back to her and walked off. Then something tested his restraint.
A tiny hand tugged his sleeve. Adeline was like a sullen child.
"How the tables have turned," he bemused. She was always full of delightful surprises, wasn't she?
One minute, she attempted to flee from him, the next, she clutched onto him. She pinched the edge of his sleeve with her thumb and forefinger.
"If you wanted me to stay so bad, dear Adeline, you should've begged for more that night," he goaded
"How rude," she snipped.
When he sharply turned around, baring his red eyes for her to see, she did not shrink back in fear. Although, his abnormally calm smile certainly frightened her. He was the type of man to laugh in the face of Death himself.
Adeline cursed her wretched hand. She dropped it, as if his touch had burned her. He was eerily still. Full of mysteries and sins, she should've ran far, far away from him. The second he released her, she should've dashed for the hills.
"Your name," she finally said. "Y-you never told me that night, and I—"
His smile widened, his eyes redder than freshly spilt blood. "I did tell you my name, dear girl. If I didn't, how would I know yours?"
His tone was a gentle lull, his face friendly for the time being. Despite his frigid gaze implying otherwise.
Her fingers trembled. She had made a mistake. A drastic one. Not only did a human step out of place, she had also grabbed a Vampire. Now, she had revealed another flaw.
It was then that the world came back into focus. The whispers, the inquisitive stares, the startled people. Background chatter buzzed in her ears again. Reality had made itself known. The hierarchy was deeming her a crazy girl, who had sealed her fate by grabbing a Vampire.
"I-I don't remember much of that night," Adeline confessed. "I'm sorry—"
"Why do you stammer?"
Adeline stiffened at his words. What type of horrendous question was that? When she glanced up, she was met with pure curiosity. No judgement. No mocking stare. He was solemn.
"You didn't use to stammer as a child," he added on.
"It's just a bad habit that's all—"
"I see."
Adeline frowned. Why did he seem disappointed? The air became chillier. Or maybe it was because of his intimidating presence. His shadow loomed over her petite figure. He could swallow her alive if he wanted too. Yet, there was a regal air to him.
He was breathtakingly stunning. She could not tear her visage from him, even when he was cold to her. His raven hair framed his forehead, a few strands lingering over his refined stare.
He behaved as if the world was his playground. It was an outrageous thing, considering that privilege belonged to the King and no one else.
"Until next time, Adeline," he whispered her name, like a man kneeling before the church. A sacred name. Or the beginning of a letter dedicated to a loved one.
When she blinked in bewilderment, he grinned down at her, revealing pearly white teeth. For a split second, his fangs were revealed.
And suddenly, Adeline realized a daunting fact—he knew her as a child.
- - - - -
"I didn't know you did charity work, Your Majesty," Weston sneered.
Weston bowed his head at the sight of the King. In public, he was an obedient protector. In private, he was a loyal friend. A chastising, nagging one.
"All these years of accumulated karma, I have to start somewhere," the man in black chuckled.
"No amount of redemption will wash the sin from your hands, Your Majesty," Weston gritted. He behaved like a cheated wife. Stomping forward, he revealed his palms.
A crown brooch rested upon his hand. Golden chains hung from the brooch, the other end revealing a ruby cut to resemble the sun. In the other hand was a red satchel rimmed with gold embroidery.
"Please," Weston deadpanned in a voice that was far from begging.
"Ah yes," the King smirked. "I seem to have forgotten this."
Weston tried his hardest not to glare. But he ended up brooding anyways. Forgot was an understatement.
Weston turned his back for just a second and the accessories were discarded on the chair. Next thing he knew, the King was on the ballroom floor, and in a blink, he was gone.
No one had seen him walk across the enormous dance room, towards the open balcony. The people only caught snippets of his face after he brought a slender human to the center of the floor.
"Who was that, Your Majesty?" Easton inquired.
His voice was filled with child-like wonder, his eyes broadening. Maybe that was why the maids always snuck him candy and chocolate. He had boyish charms that wooed even the head maidservant.
"She saw us, Your Majesty," Easton blabbered on. "It should've been impossible. I don't think she's a mere human."
The King quirked a brow. Was that so? How interesting. No wonder she kept looking away. He had assumed she was too bashful to face him.
Afterall, he was quite handsome, and women always blushed in his presence. He was familiar with that treatment.
Now that he thought about it, she had reddened before him many times. First, was the flush of her chest that night, and now, it was at almost everything he said. Her skin was creamy smooth, pale like the first fall of snow, so he did not blame her.
Adeline was a treasure box of mysteries, and he intended to unravel every single one of them. Starting with that emerald green dress of hers.
"Your Majesty," Easton whined upon realizing he was being ignored. His lips drew into a gloomy pout, and he regarded the monarch with puppy eyes. "Don't neglect me like this…"
The King felt the urge to kick a puppy. Specifically, this brown-haired, shaggy dog in front of him.
"You and your brother are like day and night," he coldly remarked. He scrutinized both of the twins. "But none the beauty and grace."
Weston opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted,
"Which isn't a surprise, considering the fact you're in my presence." The King slipped the brooch upon his chest pocket, despite not needing to. Everyone knew his face. Only an imbecile didn't.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Easton whispered to his brother, his brows drawn together.
"It means our King is shameless and thinks he's the most fairest in the land," Weston quipped.
"Am I not?" the King mused.
Weston's pressed his lips together. He didn't get paid enough to deal with this. Just then, the King's great mood—a rare phenomenon—suddenly dispersed. The warmth fled from his eyes. His face grew icy.
"Who the hell is that?" he demanded.
Weston and Easton whirled around, curious of who they had to behead this time. "Where, where?" Easton asked, like a confused little child.
"There," his older brother snapped with a pointed finger.
Judging from the King's stormy features, Weston already knew who had ruined the despot's mood.
A tall, lanky man of sizable shoulders and decent physique, was chatting with a woman. For the first time that night, a smile graced her face. She had never looked more beautiful than when she was happy.
But none of that joy was dedicated to the man she had danced with.
The King's little deer was being caught in another predator's trap. And he was far from pleased.
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