Chapter 88: The Demise of His Majesty (3)

He had hurt her, that pest had no right to talk to her. Ernest's killing intention rose. But no matter how much he wanted to kill the shitty man, he could not erase the past. It was rather disappointing that he had no sword in his hand…then again, maybe that was a good thing.

Even if he had his ceremonial sword with him, it wasn't as though he could exterminate that pest in full view of the ball.

With his heart mildly saddened, he turned back to Rosemary, and regained control of his runaway thoughts, desperately suppressing his desire to exterminate the irritants. The dance ended, before the next one began, he moved Rosemary out of the dance floor toward the refreshment table.

'Rosemary, I'm a little parched, shall we take a break?' He said.

This puzzled Rosemary; Ernest would not normally say such a thing. His was a strong man who had trained with the Royal Knights, he had abundant physical strength. She blinked in astonishment.

'Very well, but brother, you are being a bit strange. I'm rather worried.'

Hearing that his sister was worried about him, Ernest thought himself rather pitiful. But he had a wicked smile on his face,

'

You're so lovely, Rosemary. Thank you for worrying about me. How about we make time to have tea with Sirius?'

'Really? Thank you, I want lots of sweets!'

She dived right into what sweets she wanted, what tea to brew…with her suitably distracted with Sirius, Ernest drew her to the refreshments table where she was.

He could see her retrieve the bottle from her pocket.

He smiled and watched as she put the sweet into the wine. She was waiting for the potion to dissolve.

He moved closer, so he was standing off to her side. He could see the contents of the glass change color.

'Rosemary, my dear, could you bring me that glass of wine.' He said indicating the glass she had dosed. Rosemary was a bit unsure about taking a glass from right in front of a lady. What was wrong with her brother? She wondered.

Maybe it was best to go with the flow.

His sister was sincere and easy to understand.

Her thoughts were easily readable on her face.

'Please,' he said pressing her. He stood at the spot. And waited for her to bring it to him.

So she went, 'Pardon me,'

Her slender shoulders jumped at the sound of a stranger's voice, but Rosemary did not pay attention and picked up the wine glass for him and apple juice for herself.

'Here you are, Ernest.'

He smiled his thanks and placed his lips at the rim of the glass. The scent of the rich wine teased his nose, as he waited for her to turn.

The moment she was facing him, he drank the wine, while looking at her meager attempt at stopping him. He watched her like a ravenous beast.

He lowered the glass and looked into her eyes. She looked stunned.

God, she was beautiful.

I knew her face well from the portraits, but seeing the real thing was completely different.

Her lovely dark hair, her violet eyes, her determined face – she was unbearably beautiful.

And finally, she was his.

Ernest held his hand out as he walked to her.

He would be able to touch her who he loved in - three, two, one…

THE END.

Zuben: C'est Termine! Congratulations everyone who made it to the end. You have achieved something - I dunno what it is but yeah! I don't even want to overthink it. Maybe in a few months, I will re-read it and think, 'Awww, it wasn't so bad.' On one hand, I'm thinking I would love to translate a better book, alas, a perverse side of me want to make snarkiest - shitty books produce snarkiest, but then that would be like shooting fish in a barrel. I need to decide before I choose my next book.