Her posture stiffens, and she gazes at me, a mixture of emotions flitting across her thin face. “I had no idea he had a son.”
“Spare me your feigned ignorance,” I spit, venom lacing my words. “You manipulated him, led him to ruin. Your actions destroyed my family.” My hand moves to my belt, and in one fluid motion, I pull out the dagger. The blade catches the low light, a sharp promise of what’s to come.
“Wait!” she cries, panic flashing in her eyes as she rushes behind one of the plush chairs and clutches the upholstery as if it could shield her from my wrath.
“I suggest you choose your next words carefully,” I grind out through clenched teeth, marching toward her with deliberate steps.
“I cared for Edgar d-deeply,” she stammers, her voice quivering. “He promised we would leave together, start a new life away from court. But he disappeared without a word. I searched for him, but it was as if he vanished.”
“Liar,” I hiss, fury surging through me like a tempest. Without hesitation, I charge forward. Vaulting over the chair, I grab her arm and yank her toward me. She struggles, but my grip is iron.
Her wide eyes glisten with tears. “I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry. He never spoke of a family.”
“Convenient,” I sneer. “But whether you knew or not changes nothing. You are responsible. Apologies won’t bring back what I’ve lost.”
“Ronan, stop!” Elara’s voice slices through the tension as she bursts into the room, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing.
“Elara, leave,” I command, my gaze locked on Lady Clayton.
She steps between us, placing a steady hand on my chest. “I won’t let you do this.”
“This is none of your concern,” I growl, the dagger still poised.
“It is if you’re about to throw your life away,” she counters. “You never intended to move on, did you? You planned to end it all here.”
“Elara—”
“Listen to me,” she pleads, her pale green eyes searching mine. “I need you to choose something other than vengeance. Choose me. Chooseus.”
Us.
Her words pierce through the fog of anger clouding my mind. The weight of the dagger suddenly feels heavier, the cold steel pressing into my palm.
Chooseus.
My grip on Lady Clayton loosens. She gasps, drawing back but too afraid to move farther. “Perhaps we have allbeen victims of Edgar’s deceit,” she whispers shakily. “I was unaware of his other life. He made promises he did not keep.”
“Shut up!” I roar and tighten my hold on her arm, the maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume me.
“Ronan, please,” Elara implores, stepping closer. “This isn’t who you are. Don’t let the past destroy your future.”
I glance at her, the anguish in her eyes mirroring my own. “She deserves to pay,” I murmur, though the conviction in my voice falters. “Whether he lied to her or not doesn’t absolve her of her actions.”
“And she will, but not like this. Let justice find its way without also taking your life.” Elara reaches up, her hands warm against my face. “What happened in the past can’t be changed. Continuing down this path serves no one. Let it go. Choose a life with me instead.”
I close my eyes, the tension slowly ebbing from my body. The desire for revenge that once burned so fiercely now tastes like ashes on my tongue. The dagger slips from my fingers, clattering to the floor with a metallic thud.
Lady Clayton takes a shaky breath. “I never intended for any of this to happen,” she whispers. “If I could undo the pain I’ve caused, I would.”
I fix her with a steady gaze. “I’m not choosing this to spare you,” I say, my voice firm but devoid of malice. “I am freeing myself. Freeing Elara.” A weight lifts from my shoulders as the words leave my lips. Turning to Elara, I offer a weary smile. “Let’s leave this place.”
She returns my grin, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yes. Let’s go.”
We exit the room, leaving Lady Clayton to grapple with her conscience. The opulent corridors feel emptier now, the distant echoes of laughter and music from the ballroom fading into the background as we make our way outside. The night air is crisp, stars scattered across the velvet sky like distant lanterns.
At the stables, Sabre greets us with a soft nicker. His coat gleams like polished silver in the moonlight, and he paws the ground impatiently as we approach.
“He’s ready to go home,” I murmur, stroking his mane.
