59 | ACT III, SCENE VII

P R E V I O U S L Y

Tying my daggers around my ankles and sliding my knives up my sleeves, I left, hearing the attendants making the preparations for the huge celebrations at night.

HEWE, STEFFITH.

TRISTAN

SOMETHING WAS CLENCHED IN THE sleeping Erida's fist. And no matter how hard I tried to pry her fingers open, they wouldn't give way. What was she holding and how would we wake them up? Her fingers were as hard as stone.

I sighed.

"I've got it, it's here, I got the Felonwood!" I heard a familiar voice come up the flight of stairs. Helios opened the door and Nyx gave her a timid smile. Edwina marched in, triumphantly holding a slim bottle filled with scraps of bark.

"What? You got it?" Helios's mouth fell open.

"Got what?" I questioned.

"Felonwood. To wake them up," Nyx explained, then her eyes went wide and mouth turned to a thin line as she saw me.

"Er."

"I'm... sorry," Helios shook his head, looking at me. "Umm. You are shot by the arrow when we found out. And... we forgot to tell you."

"Forgot, is it?" I snapped. "Forgot? You tell her and you don't tell me?"

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely.

"Felonwood can only be grown in Allington. And you sit here, happy in your mansion while you send others to go and get it for you?" I asked angrily. "You could have told me!"

"Tristan, we're sincerely sorry," Nyx said glumly. "It sort of slipped off my mind."

"But now, we've got it," Helios beamed. "We just need to brew it with the proper herbs in hot water and there will be no reason to delay this."

"Yes. And you got it!" Nyx patted Edwina on the back proudly.

"And do you mind asking the Queen how she got it?" I asked dryly.

It was taking every ounce of my strength to not lose my temper with her.

Edwina poured out the story, as we listened, interested.

"You drugged Sarette Rotavelle? The Sarette Rotavelle? She once burned a handmaiden alive for getting her a dress of the wrong size," Nyx gasped in hardly concealed admiration.

"You drugged a goddess, stole a rare ingredient and delivered a child without any assistance? That too from a Palace completely boarded up?" Helios asked, eyes glassy and voice tender.

What if something had happened to her? What if she got hurt? Or caught? Did the woman have no regard for her damn life?

"Yes?" she asked of no one in particular, not looking at me.

"Gods, girl. I have to give it to you," he said, affectionately, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not a girl," she scoffed. "I'm a Queen."

"Yes, you are. And a most excellent one at that," Nyx laughed. All three looked at me. Well, Edwina was technically looking at the window. Perhaps the window was more interesting than me.

"What?" I muttered angrily.

"Tell the King to shut up and mind his own business, please," Edwina said firmly to Nyx who stared at us both in bewilderment.

"What is wrong with both of you?"

"The only thing that is wrong is that I am a Valmont and she is a Tremayne. Nothing else," I hissed, as the elders frowned again this time, smiles drooping.

"Er... umm. I guess we should just brew up the Felonwood. We can wake those three up first and then call Eric and the Emmersons here, okay?" Nyx smiled a smile that was too bright, daunted with confusion.

• • • • •

"Will someone tell me why we are brewing a whole cauldron full of this?" Edwina asked, hovering around Nyx, whose raven black hair had turned bushier and bushier with the steam issuing out of the silvery, shimmering liquid.

"We're supposed to," Helios said, turning the pages of an old grimoire as I opened the bottle, cracking the bark of Felonwood into smaller slabs. It smelled like something between the sunset sea and cherries.

"It's too much!" Edwina said. "Do you mean to incapacitate or kill them?"

"If you meant to incapacitate or kill them, you could just throw the cauldron onto their heads," I muttered darkly under my breath. Nyx shot me a warning glare.

"They're already incapacitated, as a matter of fact," Helios said, pointing to the three unconscious bodies.

"This is too much potion. What are we going to do with the leftovers, Nyx?" she continued, avoiding looking at me.

"We might have to store them in a cool, dark place."

"Like oblivion," Edwina whispered hotly in my direction.

"Like your heart," I snapped at her, handing the bark to Nyx who dropped it into the potion, and it sizzled and crackled, turning as clear as water.

"And what are we supposed to do now?" Edwina pointedly asked Helios, who was turning the pages of the ancient grimoire.

"Wait. For a few minutes."

"Have a power nap or two, since you've worked so hard," I hissed harshly. Edwina merely rolled her eyes as anger welled up in me once again.

"Tristan?" Nyx asked softly. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, no. I'm completely fine. Carry on. You might want to add a bit of salamander oil to make it easier to scrape this rubbish into the garbage."

"Damn them both," I heard Helios whisper to his wife, and she batted her lashes in annoyance at Edwina and me.

A few more minutes passed as we just soon grouped around. The potion slowly turned to a dull, gleaming gold, sparkling.

"There. It's ready," Nyx said. She grabbed a thimble of porcelain as Helios looked at the three sleeping immortals. They looked resting, peaceful, calm expressions on all their faces.

Erida, the goddess of discord, was petite and dainty in her features, a heart shaped face and a delicate chin, with soft gold curls that framed her stubborn cheeks. Her left hand was tightly clenched.

Atherton, the god of light, was more on the muscular side, just like his brother Helios, with chestnut brown hair streaked with gold.

His wife and sister, Cymbeline, the goddess of music, was slender and slim, with generous hips and a tiny waist, with the complexion of china bone and a strong, expressive face.

"Hmm... alright," Helios muttered. "Who first?"

"Atherton?" Edwina suggested tentatively, and the others shrugged their agreement.

I filled the thimble to the brim, and the golden liquid shimmered and sparkled, full of vitality. Helios cupped open his brother's mouth as I poured the draught in.

We waited for a few seconds, hearts beating faster than fast. What if it didn't work?

Then, Atherton opened his silver eyes, and soft light began to fill the room as he looked at us in wonder and amazement.

"What the fuck?" he gasped, dazed, sitting up suddenly and noticing Helios standing right beside him. "How - Helios? Helios, man? We were - we were on the bloody island and they drugged us and gods - what happened? Where am I? And - damn it, Cymbeline!" he shouted, trying to shake her awake as Helios calmed his younger brother down, explaining everything to him. The man's expression of surprise and panic turned to that of relief and joy.

"...is how we woke you up..."

"Does that mean you can wake up my wife as well?" Atherton asked tentatively.

"Yes. See," Helios said, and Atherton turned his head to Cymbeline as I opened her mouth and slipped the thimble of potion down her throat. A moment later, she opened her platinum blue eyes, the same expressions of wonder and surprise in them as well.

Some sort of soft, soothing music began to play as her jaw clenched open and shut, open and shut with terror. Atherton hugged his wife, crying tears of joy as she fluttered her eyes, amazement and relief etched onto her face. Helios hugged his sister, so did Nyx, and then her eyes fell on Edwina and I.

"Tristan? Is that you? Tristan Valmont?" Cymbeline asked in a soft, singsong voice that was filled with melody.

"Yes," I muttered, and she looked at Edwina.

"Edwina? Edwina Tremayne?"

"Edwina Valmont Tremayne," Helios corrected proudly, and Atherton and Cymbeline's jaw dropped in shock.

"You - you both are married?"

"Er - yes?" I said, and both of them began to whisper excitedly to each other, hushed and whispering as Cymbeline giggled like a young schoolgirl, eyeing the wedding rings on our hands.

"How much time has passed since we... disappeared?" she asked, as Atherton said at the same time, "can you wake Erida too?"

"Yes," I muttered unenthusiastically, filling the thimble the last time.

Erida opened her eyes.

Something golden fell out of her hand and dropped to the floor as I picked it up.

"What is this?" I asked. It was a golden screw, yet longer than most, around two inches long. The grooves were set finely into it, the threads catching the light and sparkling. Edwina eyed it with interest, holding her hand out for it and I dropped it into her palm.

"We found it in some sort of temple. All red, red statues everywhere. Then the Dessari discovered what we had found and captured us at once. Put us to sleep, then..." Cymbeline said tentatively.

"I don't know why they were so... possessive about it. It's not like it's a key to some sort of chest or anything," Erida wondered, accepting a glass of water and sipping it.

Four sets of ears perked up.

The Logogram.

The screw was a piece of the Logogram.

"It's the pie-" Nyx began but Helios immediately shushed her. No one could know, not now, at least.

The Logogram had three parts - three screws. Is immortals had found the first one, the one which was protected by the Dessari. That was why they drugged the immortals and put them to sleep - those three had found the piece, and they couldn't be allowed to leave with such a crucial piece of information.

The doors opened as Eric marched in, Amphitrite following him, a robe drawn over her nightgown.

"Ohmygod, mother!" she cried suddenly, dashing forward as Eric caught her from falling, his hand protectively resting on her belly. Then he saw his mother, who was presumed dead.

"MOTHER!"

He cried in joy, as Erida flung herself in her son's arms, weeping. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair as she wrapped her arms around her son, crying tears of happiness. "I thought you were dead," Eric breathed heavily, twirling her around in a circle and setting her down as she went to hug Amphitrite.

"Oh, sweetling, you're pregnant!" Erida exclaimed, delightedly kissing her forehead as Amphitrite glowed brighter.

"We have a daughter, mother. A daughter, can you believe it? And now I'm carrying triplets!"

The women gushed and laughed and smiled in happiness as Eric hugged his mother tighter and Helios and Nyx filled in their siblings about the other things that had happened.

"I'm so thankful to you. I can't thank you enough, your Grace," Atherton was saying to me as Cymbeline and Erida nodded.

"I only helped get you out of Vezort. Edwina risked her life to go to Allington to get the Felonwood. It's her you should thank," I shrugged my shoulders as the three dropped to their knees, expressing their gratitude and respect and thankfulness. Eric and Amphitrite were saying something to her as well, he hugged her, Amphitrite forgave her for the kissing incident and Eric apologized to me. But I didn't notice.

My eyes were only on Edwina.

She stood shock still and hollow, watching Eric hug his mother with fascinated amazement, her eyes filling with tears. She saw Amphitrite address her mother in law as mother.

Given the fact that she did have a real mother, once. And she was dead.

I watched my wife stand there, her face an epitome of dignity and composure, as she broke on the inside, slowly, piece by piece.

Aidon had Irina. Amphitrite had Eric. Amphitrite completely fit in to the LeVane family. Eros was more of her father than Lucius. And Erida was the mother she never had. And Edwina?

She had no one.

Except for me.

And even now, despite all she did, despite all Eric did, I would be there for her. She had been there for me. She had coaxed the darkness out of me. How could I let her stand there and break internally, while I sat, watching? It would break her. And watching her break would break me. I wouldn't mind if she didn't want me. I would be fine. But her? Her happiness was the only thing I wanted. Above everything I wanted. I wanted to see her smile, I wanted to make her smile. And even if she let someone else put a smile on her face, even if it was another man, even if it hurt me - I would gladly let her hurt me.

Provided that Edwina was content and happy.

Because the intensity of feelings I had for Edwina? It gave her immense power to hurt me. Because I cared. I was falling for her, and I knew it. And how could I stop myself from that?

I would be there for her, I vowed to myself. Always be there for her.

"...thought I had lost you forever," Amphitrite sniffed, tears down her face as Eric wrapped his arms around Erida, thanking Edwina again and again.

"I... I can't express my thanks. Thank you," he whispered. "I will never forget. And I'm sorry for today morning. I - was drunk."

"Of course. Of course," Edwina said hollowly, her face blank as Amphitrite hugged her mother in law. Her eyes seemed to have lost their light, watching the son reunited with his mother. What would she be thinking? Would she too be remembering her memories with her mother?

My poor wife. My sweet, brave, strong woman.

I wanted to cry to her, hold her, let her sob on my shoulder. I had never seen Edwina cry. She always held her feelings in a tightly sealed box in the folds of her heart, and even when her eyes filled with tears, by some force of nature, they never spilled over. Was there ever such a wonderful woman?

"Of course. Yes. Of course," Edwina said numbly, as everyone wrung her hand and it moved like a limp branch, her face lined clean of all emotion. Yet her eyes were frozen over by a glaze, shimmering dully with a blanket of concealed tears.

"Of course," she repeated, her voice tender and choked as her fists opened and closed.

"Come on," I said, my voice softer than the one I'd used before, and I slipped a hand around her shoulder, but she was rigid, stiff and unmoving.

"I want to watch," Edwina whispered distractedly. "He has a mother."

"No. We're going home," I said firmly. I had to take her out of here before Vivian and Rosalva came. There would be more tears then, and I didn't want her to suffer even more, feeling it like cuts of knife into her back.

"Tristan?" Cymbeline asked, motioning to the still Edwina, mouthing out a question. I gave her a warning glance, and she nodded in understanding, looking at Edwina and the tears slowly filling those ocean green eyes.

"We're leaving. Come on," I said, gently tugging her away and telling Nyx to contact us the next day. She nodded, observing Edwina, who offered no resistance as I took her in my arms, her face still blank and hollow.

• • • • •

HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.

EDWINA

I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you forever.

"Your Graces? Dinner is served. Everyone is waiting for you."

"Just go," I sighed. I faced Tristan. "Did you get me out of there because Eric was there?"

"What-" he asked, taken aback at once.

"You got me out of there because Eric kissed me today morning-"

"-Edwina, I-"

"You walked in on us and you saw us kissing and you got angry!" I snapped.

"You know what?" he snarled. "I wasn't angry because you kissed Eric."

"Then?" I asked, fuming.

"What made me angry was that even when I came in, pulled him off you and took him aside, you pushed me away and kissed him!"

"I don't know what happened to me!" I shouted. "It - just happened! We were drunk!"

"Oh, really?" Tristan spat.

"We were drunk, I don't know what happened! It just happened, there's no rational explanation! It didn't mean anything!"

"Oh, is it?" he asked ominously.

"I -"

"Yes?"

"I... I - you are jealous!" I stammered.

"Jealous?" Tristan whispered, pushing me back to the wall as my mind reeled, and he put his hands around my neck, his thumb resting on my collarbone, as I struggled to breathe, given the intimacy of the contact of our skin. "I know I act like a jealous bastard. How the fuck do you think I feel when I see another man doing to you what I want to do to you?" he whispered, eyes darkening and glinting. "How the fuck do you think I feel when I see you surrounded by men the whole day, knowing that you will be the only woman among them?" Tristan asked, his hand tracing the curve of my jaw as my chest rose and fell in heavy rhythm.

"I..."

"Tell me," Tristan muttered under his breath. "If you walked into my study tomorrow and found me kissing Irina, or Amphitrite or... Celestina, tell me how you would feel."

Don't you see how he felt? My conscience asked me. It was easy to understand.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, woman," he hissed, putting his fingers under my chin and jerking it up so that I met his blazing gaze. His eyes were darker than midnight, flecked with silver, and I watched myself reflected in it, my face white and eyes empty.

"I... I would hate it if another woman kissed you," I breathed, letting out a sigh and a nervous shiver. His expression softened as his fingers gently stroked my cheek.

"Then, don't you see?" he asked softly. "Come on," he said, taking my hand and leading me to our chamber. "Have the food sent up to our chambers," he added on the way to Hugo, who gave a concerned nod but said nothing, noting my almost broken, close to the edge expression, and the grim one on Tristan's.

We slowly climbed the steps, his hand on the small of my back, calming and peaceful.

I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you forever.

All the tears and memories I had carefully locked away threatened to make their reappearance.

I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you forever.

"One more thing," Tristan said quietly, opening the door for me and letting me step in. He closed it behind him as I sat down on the couch, dejected, with my face in my hands. "I didn't get you out of there because of Eric."

"Then?" I asked.

"I got you out of there because I saw you suffering. Remembering your mother. I thought you might be hurt really bad because it would bring back... memories," he said softly, sitting down beside me.

I could say nothing, too shocked to speak, as my eyes filled with moisture. I hid my face in my hands, broken and desolate.

And for the first time in centuries, the tears finally slid down my cheeks.

"Don't look at me," I choked. "I'm a mess."

"You can be a mess. That's nothing to be ashamed of. You can leave messes the way they are, or you can put them back together. They are beautiful either way. They are art. But beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, and so it just takes the right person to see  the beauty in them," Tristan eased me up as I shook with howls of misery, tucking me into the crook of his neck and rubbing my back gently. "I'm so sorry."

The cotton of his shirt was softer than the kisses mother used to plant on my head.

"She's - gone. I will never see her again," I whimpered, my tears dripping onto Tristan's neck as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear, wiping off my tears before they spilled out of my eyes, holding me tightly to his chest as I shook. "Your father killed her."

"And no one killed him. I'm so, so, sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel," he said gently, making me sob harder. My heart was beginning to ache now, the dull, permanent ache I had for years and years after she died. I nearly cried and drank myself to death in the decade after she was killed, had it not been for the rest of my family. And still I never got over her death.

"She... she never came to know that... that I became Queen. Or that I got married. Or that - or that -" my voice broke, "-so many people want to kill me. The colors of the spring come back every year. She will never come back."

"Edwina, my sweet girl, listen," Tristan said, as I wept into his neck and he lovingly rubbed my back in circles, his hands strong and slow and calming. "Your mother is still with you. Don't you see?" he asked, taking my trembling left hand and showing me the finger with my mother's signet ring, rippling green. "This is her. She is with you, even right now. I know, I know you can't communicate with her, but every time you remember her: now that she is with you."

"Really?" I asked tearfully.

"Yes," he said with a slight smile, rubbing my palm between his, as even more tears pricked my eyes. "As for being a Queen, your mother could not have been prouder. You are perfect. Perfect in every way a person can ever be. You love your people, and they respect you to the ends of the earth. You are powerful, and strong, and honest, and kind. Why do you make yourself so small? You are the finest ruler Endollon ever had."

"I'm not," I whispered.

"You are. Remember the fight at Hewe with Favian? You beat him, fair and square, and yet you spared his life. You saw the spirit of a dead Titaness on our wedding night, and even when no one believed, you refused to lie. Remember the ambush at Rimebay? You went there, blindfolded, fearless, unknowing if they had Amphitrite, just to save your sister. Remember Vezort? You came and you joined even when you could have peacefully stayed at home. Your thinking saved us from Remora. You and I fought a mob hundred times our number. You got hurt, but still insisted on accompanying us. We nearly lost our lives on the Island, yet here you stand, strong and alive. Remember Allington? You made sure you got everyone to safety before yourself, you defended Halette. You saw the arrow aimed for you, and pushed me out of the way even though it wasn't needed. When the arrow hit me, it was you who burned out the poison and healed me. And what you did today? You helped three immortals and the two others who had warned you. You helped deliver a healthy child. You got everyone back safely. Even when you were under no obligation to go yourself, you went. Anyone could have gone. Helios, Nyx. Me, if they had told me. But you went. And after all this, Edwina Tremayne, if you say you are weak and useless, I will say you are the biggest liar who ever lived. Because don't you see? You are the Sun. You are the Light. You are the Fighter. The Lioness. The Warrior. The Queen."

I sniffed, not quite knowing what to say, simply reveling in the feeling of Tristan holding me in his arms.

"Trust me. From wherever your mother is watching, she knows her daughter is doing a damn fine job."

"But she won't come back," I breathed, tear tracks gleaming on my cheeks and he drew back to face me, the dark eyes full of sadness, sadness of a thousand galaxies and stars shining in them as he wiped my tears away with his long fingers.

"No," Tristan whispered. "She won't come back."

"She'll never come back," I whispered, my voice choked and tender and fading in my throat.

"Wait a minute."

Tristan got up slowly as I drew up my knees, sinking into the bed. My cheeks were still slightly moist, I hurriedly wiped them off, trying to make out what Tristan was trying to do. He went to Aetherius in a corner, his fingers lightly brushing the pommel of his beloved sword, and then he went to the flagon of wine on his desk. He filled half a goblet, then shook his head to himself and let it fill to the brim, considering the situation. He drained the sangria, pulling a box out from under the other side of his bed. I could hear the screech of its metal against the wood. The sound of a lock being opened, then a rustle of folds of silk. Tristan put it down again, getting up to walk back to me.

He dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed, kneeling in front of me, his eyes clear and concise. Tristan took my palm, holding it open and placing something cool and slim in it, then closed my fist as I looked down to see what it was.

Pyramids carved out of pearl, set in the hilt of a dagger which gleamed black.

A Bloodstone dagger.

"I cannot give you back your mother, Edwina," Tristan said quietly. "But I can offer you revenge  for her death."

He took my limp hand as I stared at him, shocked, horrified, and dragged the dagger up to his chest, just above his heart.

"I asked you before to do this. And now I ask you again. Kill me," his voice was calm as a terrified scream nearly escaped my lips.

"No, Tristan, don't-" a fresh wave of tears flooded my eyes again, fire in the form of water stung my eyes. "Are you insane? Are you bloody insane?" I cried out.

"No," he said, moving my hand with the dagger to the center of his heart. I could feel the hard planes of his chest under the black shirt he wore, and he pressed it further to himself, the tip sharp against the skin, the vital, pumping arteries sending blood.

"No!" I cried, knocking the dagger out of his hand, flinging it across the room and kneeling down to sit beside him, our shoulders brushing. I flung my arms around him, sobbing to the ground.

If he died, it would kill me.

I couldn't live without him.

"Don't you dare do that again, Tristan Valmont, or I will burn you alive, do you understand?" I demanded, burying myself in his chest as he pulled me over, affectionately wrapping his hands around me as I felt our hearts beat.

Beating together, beating with the same blood flowing through our veins.

"Have you imagined, ever, what would happen if you died? What would happen to your mother, Llewellyn, Eric, Amphitrite, Verona? Your people? Helios and Nyx? And..." me.

"And?"

"And-" my voice broke. How could I tell him?

"And?"

"And... me," I whispered. I was no good at lying. There. You've done it. I told him.

Tristan drew apart as we both sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed and intertwining our fingers, the rings, the line, the star in unison.

"What do you mean by that?" he whispered.

"By - by what?" I muttered, but I knew what he was asking.

"You know what I'm talking about."

Tristan cupped my face in his hands, setting my pulse racing again as his sensual lips pulled up in a smirk and his blue eyes searched mine.

"I think, Edwina, I think... I need to know. I need to know."

"Know what?" I tried to play innocent.

"I need to know... what you feel about... us."

His words hung heavy in the air, soft and full of meaning as I looked into the night, thinking. How could I tell him? I... I wasn't brave enough. No, I wasn't.

"I'm sorry," Tristan said sadly. "I'm sorry if I appear too eager to talk to you. I'm sorry if I say things that set you off. I'm sorry if I come across as annoying. I'm sorry if you don't want to talk to me as much as I want to talk to you. I'm sorry if I act too jealous, or too possessive. It's just that I can't bear the thought of someone I care for being hurt."

"Y - you care for me?" I asked, surprised. No. Why would someone care for a person like me?

"I would bleed out for you if told me liked the colour red, Edwina," he said, his fingers wrapping themselves around mine as I leaned against him in contentment.

I wanted him, I realized.

This man with his dark corners and haunted places and chipped edges, this man with a heart large enough to fit the whole of Endollon inside it. This man so selfless, so attentive, so caring. This man who kissed purer than sin. This man I cared for so much.

I thought I was in love with him.

Just a little bit.

There. He'd done it.

Men gave their wives jewels. Flowers. Precious gifts. Sweet, sweet, sugary words.

But Tristan Valmont?

He gave me swordfights. Cuts and scars and scratches and bumps. He gave me loneliness and tears. He gave me kisses more wicked than sin and sweeter than holy water. He gave me the stars that haunted him each night. He gave me his life.

And here I sat, head over heels, falling for him, without any way of stopping myself from getting hurled into it. Because it wasn't even under my control anymore.

Because I could not deny it, never, ever deny it. I wanted to tell him so badly how much I wanted him. But I was a coward.

"I-" I pulled myself together, sitting up straight and looking up in his observant eyes. "I think... I know. I feel what you feel."

In one second, his eyes lit up, his face brightened and a corner of Tristan's lips quirked up in a smile.

"Really?"

"Really," I said, running my fingers through his hair. It was soft. It was so wonderful. And messy. "You're still mad at me," I whispered. "After today morning... and all that happened."

"I can't stay mad at you, Edwina Tremayne," he said, hands at the nape of my neck. "I'm not mad."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're very possessive," I muttered. "And I like it."

"Really?"

"Really."

We both sat there for sometime, holding each other and grinning like idiots. It was soft and silent and affectionate, letting each other know we would always be there.

"I'm sorry I push people away, Valmont."

"Oh, no, woman. You're not pushing me away. You push me, I'll grab you and pin you against the wall and kiss the heck out of you," Tristan whispered, smirking. "We're in this together."

"Really?" I asked with a tiny smile.

"Really."

• • • • •

Ordinary people in love *hey look, I got you a flower*

Edwina and Tristan in love *kill me with your own hands, I will gladly die for you*

So... this chapter has been quite a big one looming since a very long time. I hope y'all can understand the deal with the three gods now! Erida, Cymbeline and Atherton had been missing for a reason - they'd unknowingly found the first piece of the Logogram and the Dessari drugged them so that they didn't escape with the piece of Pandora's Logogram (she herself was the one who created the Dessari!)