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She fluttered towards Gideon like a moth to a flame. “Save me, save me…” she pleaded.
“It was always you I loved. Take me away from here…”
Trista could see that Gideon had allied himself with the new regime and now held significant military power. If there was any pity left in his heart for her, she might escape her fate.
hapter 2
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She remembered the story: how Gideon had found a stand–in for her, how he would drop everything to come to her aid.
Here she was, pale and fragile, a damsel in her darkest hour. A hero had appeared. The timing was perfect.
All she needed was for him to take her away.
The Prince laughed, a broken, bitter sound. “Trista. After everything I did for you, you throw yourself at another man the first chance you get.”
She had been the icon of purity and grace in Aethelgard. Seeing her now, groveling at another man’s feet, was the final disillusionment for the Prince. The woman he had worshipped had become just as common and desperate as everyone else. So much for the noble spirit in her poetry
The Prince grabbed her, pulling her into a rough embrace. “I’ll tell you this, Trista. If I’m going to die, you are going to die with me!”
She struggled, her eyes still fixed pleadingly on the Lord Marshal. “Save me! You said you would love me for the rest of your life!”
But Gideon didn’t move a muscle.
“Why would you assume,” he said, his voice flat, “that I would risk offending the new King for a woman?”
“Besides,” he added, “who even are you? I might have had a crush on you once, but did you really think you could play me for a fool forever?”
He spoke with righteous indignation, but his eyes kept darting towards my brother’s side.
Love makes you blind. A broken heart, it seems, helps you see.
The former white moon of his heart was now just a pile of dust and broken promises.
Lord Marshal Gideon personally seized both Trista and the Prince, dragging them away.
No matter how much Trista begged or how loudly the Prince cursed, their fates were sealed.
