Chapter 46: Chapter 46

Sweat poured down generously at Caldwell’s body when he reached the Rubiyah Manor. In a feverish haste to get away, he had forgotten that his presence was still badly needed at the pavilion and that it would look suspicious if he did not go back and showed himself again. However, after what had happened back there, he could not possibly bring himself back to face the crowd, especially Shia Hyanessa Andry, Tristal’s granddaughter and Langrion’s fiancé, who most certainly will be there. He was supposed to give his blessings to her and his nephew during their formal engagement ceremony, and he simply did not have the guts to do it.

As soon as he reached his residence, Gascone’s present king and Imperial Ruler, Caldwell Nanris, collapsed on the floor of his room and nervously cupped his head in his palms.

‘Why?! Why?! Why?!’ he screamed at himself. Out of all people, why must it be Tristal?! Why must it be his Tristal who should come and face him to reveal what he had tried to bury deep in the recesses of his mind all these years?...

That day started good. Everything seemed perfect as he woke up to the sound of cheerful birds in the trees. At breakfast time, he was surprised to have received a letter bearing the seal of the Andry household, a seal he had avoided looking at for so long that it almost gave him a fright to see it sprawled at his breakfast table.

There was only one possible sender from the Andry household, and he was correct to have guessed it. The letter was signed with the loveliest of names – Tristal Mariana Andry. Only her last name sounded so vile in his ears. He will forever be named in his heart as the maiden she had been when he had met her at fifteen - Tristal Mariana Candour – or even better - Tristal Mariana Nanris, in his wildest of dreams.

He read the contents of her letter, but he was dismayed to see it written so formally. He had missed the way she would call him ‘Cal’. In this letter, she had refrained from using his name at all. She simply addressed him as ‘his grace,’ a title she had detested so much when they were younger.

“Ugh, why do people address the king by the title ‘his grace’? Does he positively hold people’s lives at the palm of his hand,” Tristal once said. They were both eighteen at that time, and they were sprawled at the garden, looking at the clouds up ahead.

“The title sounded so powerful in my ears. I like it,” he replied in jest.

“Then, would you rather have me call you ‘your grace’ than ‘my love’?” she asked.

He smiled back at her lovely voice, and he rolled over to her gently lying form in the grass. “I would rather that you call me Cal, your dashing groom and future husband.” She giggled at him, but the thrilling sounds of her laughter were lost in his throat as he bent his head forward to give her a kiss.

The letter she had sent him that day felt rather empty. It was a formal request to talk to him at the Grand Pavilion before the engagement ceremony starts. It was concerning her granddaughter’s engagement with his younger nephew, Prince Langrion.

Still, there was hope. In the many years that they had not seen each other, Tristal had never once written him a letter. That was forty two long and agonizing years ago. He still remembered the day he had last spoken to Tristal. It was such a painful memory, but he had recalled it in his head everyday so that he would never forget the sight of her lovely face.

Now, he will get a chance to see her and speak to her again at the ball. His heart felt wildly excited. What would she say when he saw him? How will her voice sound like? His heart was thrilled a bit just thinking about it.

However, the good mood that he had nursed all day had all been thrashed away when he finally got to speak to her in a private room at the Grand Pavillion. She sat far across from him, arms crossed beneath her bosoms, eyes looking beautiful but quite sickly, and her face was deadly serious.

“I came here to speak about my granddaughter, Shia. Prince Langrion had already made a formal visit to us and had spoken about the preparations for the wedding. He promised that he would set it soon at the Capitol, as your grace had vehemently insisted. I would like to formally ask if we could do their wedding here, your grace. I am not in my best health to be travelling about to Gaulane.”

Just like the woman that she was, Tristal always spoke straight to the point with him. Even during the time that they had broken up their engagement, she did not hesitate to go straight to the point as she spoke her mind.

“You’re a liar and a cheat, Cal! How could you fall for Princess Amira if you did love me? No matter how beautiful she is, or how much she had pleaded to you, how can you sleep with her? You are a beast! No, I take that back, you are worst than a beast!”

“Tristal, forgive me! I was drunk that day -”

“You were sober before you chose to drink, Cal! You knew what could happen in a small room with just the two of you drinking! Just admit it! You wanted to be king, and you took your chance by bedding Crown Prince Sagrass’ sister! Now you have succeeded; congratulations for becoming closer to the throne – you ambitious swine!”

Looking at Tristal now, Caldwell could see that she was still a lovely woman; her purple dress fitted her body perfectly, showing all the right curves despite her age. Her silver hair was still gorgeously framing her face and her hazel-colored eyes were still positively captivating that he was willing to lose all of his sanity as he met her gaze.

All his years of longing for her seem to pour out from his eyes as he saw her. He wanted to get nearer to her and hold her hand, but her countenance seemed to show the opposite. Her legs were crossed, and she wore a smug look as if he had said something truly detestable although he had not spoken yet.

“It’s only fitting that they wed at the Capitol. Sensala is not a safe place. This place reeks of rogues and escaped cursed ones. I only conceded to the engagement because Langrion said you wanted it to be swift.”

“Then, please concede for a wedding here too, and do allow them to live here instead of going to Gaulane.”

He looked at Tristal’s eyes. She was still a highly determined lady who never bent down when it comes to getting what she wants. However, he was not the same old Cal who always abided to her wishes...

“Why would I approve of it? What’s in it for me?”

“Langrion will never step to the throne, so you don’t need to force him to live there. And I don’t want Shia to live with you.”

Caldwell felt hurt. “So after all these years, you still think of me as a monster?”

“No. I always thought of you as sicker than a beast.”

He laughed exasperatedly. Indeed, it was only Tristal who would dare speak to the king in that way! He stepped closer to her, his arm arched menacingly at the armrest of her chair. He moved his face closer until it was only inches away from hers.

“Tristal, haven’t you got a heart? Can you not forgive me after all these years?”

He looked at the shallow way she breathed, and he drank in the perfume that came out of her body – the same heavenly scent he had missed about her after decades of longing. He looked tentatively at her parted lips. They still quivered so beautifully whenever he was near her.

Tristal was tense, but she did not back away from his oppressive stance. “There was nothing to forgive. You were not even sorry to begin with...”

Caldwell squinted his eyes towards her, “What do you mean? I had stood at the front gate of your home every day for a month to ask for your forgiveness, didn’t I? I went back to your house summer after summer, even after you had wedded that imbecile Maurice, but you wouldn’t even glance at the window to see me. Was that not enough of a sorry for you?”

Tristal stared painfully at him for a long time. Her eyes were already filled with tears when she spoke, “I am not talking about your betrayal with Amira, Cal... I was talking about what you did to Cashmere...”

Caldwell backed away from her. What was she saying? How could she possibly know about Cashmere?...

As if realizing the entire gravity of what she had just said, Tristal trembled and covered her mouth. She quickly wiped the tears that had begun to form at the corners of her eyes and began to stand up.

“F-Forgive me, your grace... I must have been out of my mind...”

She moved towards the door, but Caldwell was quick enough to barricade the exit with his body.

“What do you mean,” he roared at her, “What do you bloody mean, Tristal!”

His face was so close to her that he can almost feel the fear that was coming out of her body – fear that he had never seen her have in the years that he had been with her.

“I-I know what you did to Cashmere... I know what you did to Sagrass’ wife, the former queen...”she told him quietly.

“And what did you know?! What did you bloody know, Tristal?!” Caldwell shook her so violently, he was sure she would faint away from the shock of it, but she didn’t.

“I know,” she said breathlessly against his ears, “I know you forced yourself into her and spawned the Devil’s children...”

Her hazel eyes looked at him with scorching fear and hate as she continued her words.

“I know you must be Langrion and Danterion’s real father, and that one of them would fulfil the prophecy of the Demon King!”