‟Tonight shall be the first and last night that we spend together, Gianita, for I do not intend to produce heirs by this marriage. The Prince would still be my heir, even though you're the Empress.‟
‟Then why keep me, Sire, if I am of no use to you...
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The cold wind pierces me My broken heart hurts even more The flower petals fall and has now withered I'm falling into a deep swamp that my feet can't reach
My heart has no choice but to tear apart The darkness swallows me up
Tears fall above the fallen leaves In case you look back Is it useless hope? The wind is blowing even stronger I'm alone on this hill where the storm has come
My heart has torn into pieces and I can't stand it The darkness swallows me up
- Kim Yuna, Lonely Sailing
.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.
GIANITA
It might sound too far-fetched, but it had occurred to Gigi that her husband had been more affectionate than ever lately. The man had kissed her on the cheeks a number of times, embraced her, and even called her 'darling'.
Aside from letting her grab his ass.
It made her think that maybe, just maybe, all her loyalty and patience had come to fruition. For the very first time in months, she had the confidence to believe that her feelings were reciprocated, that they weren't just a pair of reigning monarchs who happened to get along and enjoyed each other's companies. That they, too, could become a real married couple— who loved each other.
This wasn't assuming that he had already fallen in love with her. That could wait. But a simple revelation that he really did see her as a potential romantic partner would be just enough.
She would safely guard hear for him till the day they could finally confess their feelings to each other. A heartbreak was an unpleasant emotional state, and after the first time, Gigi would like to be safe.
So as he snogged her in the balcony with so much more enthusiasm than expected, she readily believed it was true.
Much like getting some sun after suffering a long, dark winter. The kiss tasted familiar, warm and bedazzling. As their tongues entwined, a surge of emotions came over her, in which she realized that she was willing to do anything, give everything for his happiness.
A part of her kept asking if this was but a dream, just another one of her fantasies. But it wasn't. Cal was real, he was here, kissing her with fervent passion, and canoodling her in his strong arms.
Arching herself against his palm as he massaged her breasts, she was more than prepared, reminiscing those lonely nights she'd spent in her bed wishing he was there; kissing her, touching her and loving her. And when she felt the hardness of his length poking against her thigh, she was sure that it was all real.
With a new boost of confidence combined with her ignited ardour, she took him by the waist, getting them off the balcony and away from the prying eyes.
She cried out in pleasure as he started grinding on her against a wall; taking the opportunity to touch and squeeze his ass the way she liked it. Her deviance was answered by a delicious moan, and she felt heat starting to pool between her legs.
"Please, don't stop." Her head was spinning with need, her poor self could only succumb under their lust, feeling his arousal rubbing against her thighs. Had she known this would happen, she would never have worn a slinky skirt.
Mustering up some courage, she gently pressed her palm against his arousal. He was rock-hard and the prospect of having him inside her again made her shiver. "Sire..." Closing her eyes, she slowly moved her hand on him, rubbing and squeezing.
Her movements were clumsy and unsure, but surely it couldn't be that bad. Right?
Suddenly, he went oddly silent, and Gigi wasn't sure if it's a good or bad sign. So she pressed up against his crotch to emulate a response from him.
"Stop!" he shouted, catching her off guard.
"...Sire?" Gigi looked at him baffled. The look on his face as he retreated resembled someone who'd just seen a ghost.
Oh no.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked. Pleaded.
Please don't let it end, she thought. Please don't abandon me again. Please just pull me back in your arms and tell me it's alright.
"I..." Her heart skipped a beat as she heard the words that followed, "I... I think I'm too tired tonight, I don't feel so well. Can we just go back?"
Really?
Only after they had started opening up to each other—when they had shared a heartfelt kiss and indulged in passion—he had to chicken out again and throw her away with his refusal? Did she not deserve him?
Before she knew it she was already in tears, hands clasped over her mouth, looking at him with the utter look of betrayal. The pain of her heart being smashed into pieces ripped through her chest, and nothing could be worse than this humiliation.
How dare you.
"Gi, allow me to—" He muttered, but she raised a hand to stop him. "I'm sorry. I only meant to..." She turned away from him, lips curled with bitterness. "At least, allow me to escort you back."
Escort her?
Never since the very first day she set foot on this continent had she felt so consumed with anger. Their wedding night even paled in comparison to this.
At least back then, she did not know him. She did not love him.
Looking up, she glared at him with tear-filled eyes and shoved him off full force. Rushing toward the elevator, she could hear him trying to come after her, but she shut the door closed behind her. As it descended she allowed herself to cry harder now that she was alone.
She had devoted her loyalty, thoughts and dedication. She had given him her heart, loved his son as her own. But in the end, none of those mattered to him. For him she was just as undeserving as the first night she arrived in here. But what had she done so wrong?
He had no right to treat her like this!
After a long, tiring and painful walk she finally reached her own chambers. She willfully ignored the looks from her handmaidens and locked herself inside her bedroom. Throwing herself into her bed, she cried her heart out; cursing herself on her own stupidity, her own obliviousness. He never wanted her from the start, and she was getting her hopes too high.
Especially when she realized that she'd kissed him first.
He had never wanted her. Never cared for her. Never loved her.
The entire thing was her fault; she was an idiot.
As her tears soaked into her pillows, she silently thought, should I appeal for divorce?
But how could she stay with him, if all of her hopes and trust in him were shattered, broken beyond repair?
