CHAPTER 125: DO YOU FEEL THREATENED?

"I heard you call yourself Eloise now. Where did you get that name from, a trash book?" My stepsister, Fiona, giggled with the rest of her friends.

"Too bad you got a name, I spent a lot of time thinking of one for you."

"So, Eloise? What’s the short for that?"

"Lou!"

"Like low? Perfect, low... just like what you are. You will always be beneath, and I’ll always stomp over you."

"Low!"

"Low!"

"Low!

"Low!

"Low!"

They all chanted, the sound of their giggles just as haunting.

My teeth clenched as well as my fist as I recalled that simple memory. I thought I had forgotten that core memory. I’d chosen to lock it away because I was helpless that day when it happened.

I was bedridden because of my sudden illness, no one took care of me, I was covered in piss and shit, and Fiona thought it was perfect to come and bully me. I couldn’t turn away, and I couldn’t move, I just lay there staring at the ceiling as their words stabbed me a million times over.

"What’s the matter, Lou? Does the name not please you? I figured nicknames were in order, given how close we are," he muttered with an amused look, like he could sense how uneasy I was.

He’s trying to get under my skin. I shouldn’t let him, but each time he uttered that name, I was trapped back in that memory.

My tightened fist shivered as I tried to contain myself from lashing out.

"What exactly do you want? Given the kind of person you are, you didn’t just come here to irritate me. I’m this close to vomiting at the stench of you. State your business and be quick about it."

"Stench? I thought I smelled like your own personal brand of wine?"

He was not making sense at the moment. I pondered whether this was some ploy to get me disoriented. But at the mention of wine, I was suddenly flooded by the scent of it.

It was coming from him, this vile man had such a welcoming scent, or did he drown in alcohol before coming here?

"That’s by the way. I came here to see you," he said smoothly, a smile curling.

"See me?"

"Is it wrong to want to visit my brother’s wife? After all, you have been spending time with my sister."

I huffed. Has this bastard been watching me?

"It’s not. But here’s the thing, Your highness,

you make up so much time to tail my movements but don’t care to see your sister."

"That’s harsh. I was just simply passing by when I saw you heading towards the Royal Princess Wing."

Did he expect me to believe that he was just passing by?

Damon suddenly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out my hairpin.

I gulped seeing it, the urge to step closer and take it was overwhelming. I thought he had broken it or tossed it somewhere to spite me, but he still had it with him the entire time.

"From the look plastered on that pretty face of yours, I believe you still want this hairpin."

I did. More than anything, I wanted it back. Out of all the gifts Drevon had showered me with, this was the only one I knew had great importance.

Drevon never questioned why I hadn’t worn it, but I knew he thought I kept it in the box along with many other gifts I hadn’t used.

Damon positioned the hairpin like he was luring me to come to take it back.

"Why are you standing so still?" He questioned in a delightful tone.

He wanted me to take it?

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"It belongs to you, and I have come to return it. It’s rude to keep me waiting."

"What are you trying to do?"

"Questions, question, questions..." he drawled. "I’m playing nice, isn’t that enough?"

I had no idea what kind of sick plan he was plotting, but I need that hairpin back. Perhaps, if I make an illusion, I could easily coax him with words and take it.

"Something tells me this is your game," I began as I walked to him, the wind getting stronger.

"Do you like games, Lou?"

"Yes..." I answered honestly. "I love games."

I halted my footsteps when I stood in front of him. Damon stared down at me with dull eyes, and it was unsettling.

"But I’m not playing yours. I don’t want the hairpin back."

The corner of his lips twitched. "Hmm..."

"You can keep it." I took a step back, to give the illusion I was turning away, but my hand lashed out and grabbed the hairpin.

But Damon tugged me along with it, into his body, his other hand braced on my waist to keep me there.

"You play like a master," he praised as he leaned down to me. "You almost had me there."

"Give it back," I gritted.

"It’s only fair I hold on to this as a keepsake."

"Fair?" I growled. "You are just purposely holding onto it just to spite me!"

There was a sudden chill in the air, but I sensed no hostility from Damon, so I pondered what the shift was.

Damon fixed me with a pointed stare, and as if he had come to some fruition, he grinned.

"That icy glare will get you in trouble."

I tore myself away from him, and he casually put the hairpin back in his jacket. I knew then that I’d never get that back, and it broke my heart.

"You asked me why I’m here, but what you should ask is what I want."

"I don’t care," I said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, you should. I want you, Lou."

"I beg your pardon?"

He grinned. "I shall see you in court." He turned on his heels and walked away.

Court? A cold swept through me. He knew about it!

"Damon!"

He halted his steps but didn’t turn.

"Do you feel threatened?"

He laughed. "Threatened? You won’t become Queen Consort."