Semua Bab Game of hearts: The Ruthless Alpha and his warrior bride : Bab 141 - Bab 150

Celeste The door shut behind them, and the room fell quiet again, too quiet.Edgar’s fingers brushed my hip as if nothing had happened, as if Celia hadn’t just barged in mid-embrace and Gloria hadn’t been seconds away from snarling.“Are you truly going?” he asked, voice low, thumb tracing a line that made my breath stutter. “The council can wait.”“No, they can’t,” I said, prying his hand off me even though I didn’t really want to. “And neither can Gloria’s attitude.”He shrugged, unbothered. “She dislikes me. I return the sentiment.”“You dislike everyone,” I reminded him, hopping off the bed and searching for my robe.“Not you,” he said too easily.I ignored the flutter in my chest and tied the robe tighter than necessary.“Edgar, this is serious. Gloria looked like she wanted to smash something.”He leaned back on his elbows, watching me move around the room like he was storing every detail. “She’s jealous. She wants your attention.”“Maybe,” I sighed, brushing my hair back. “But

EdgarI didn’t bother hiding my expression as I stepped out into the corridor. Let them see the storm in my eyes. Let them feel the shift in the air and the pressure crawling along the stone walls. The guards straightened instinctively, some bowing, some stepping back like they could sense the crackle building under my skin.Good.Fear worked better than diplomacy.I moved through the hallway with long strides, my cloak sweeping behind me like a shadow with purpose. Every servant I passed stiffened, eyes dropping, breaths hitching. Rumors already traveled faster than I could walk. Of course they did. The council leaked information like a slit throat.At the staircase landing, I paused.Celeste’s scent still lingered faintly. Soft. Warm. The kind of scent meant to calm, but instead it splintered something inside me. She shouldn’t be handling the council alone. She shouldn’t be dealing with their pettiness and power games while still managing an entire kingdom teetering on the edge of p

EdgarThe corridor outside the council chamber was too quiet.No whispering servants. No shuffling guards. No unnecessary movements.Just that sharp, suspended silence that follows after a storm has passedbut everyone knows another one is brewing.Celeste walked ahead of me, not briskly, not stiffly, just… deliberately. Like every step she took was placed with intention. Like she was finally allowing herself to breathe, now that she was no longer forced to inhale the suffocating politics of that room.Her shoulders rose and fell once. Controlled. Nearly imperceptible.But I saw it.I always saw it.“Celeste,” I called gently.She didn’t stop. Didn’t even look back. She just turned a corner and kept going, her cloak trailing behind her like a dark river.Alright.She was angry—at them, at the accusations, at the audacity.And maybe… a little at me.I caught up to her in three long strides, my hand brushing her elbow, not gripping, just grounding.She stopped.Slowly.Like she was negot

CelesteI made it halfway down the staircase before the weight of everything I’d held together in that chamber threatened to pull me under again. The marble rail felt cold beneath my fingertips—steady, unmoving, unlike the storm twisting in my chest.The council chamber door closed behind me with a muffled click, and it felt like the world exhaled. Or maybe it was just me.I pressed my palm briefly over my sternum, grounding myself. The anger I had carried in there had burned hot and bright, but now it simmered low, smoldering instead of blazing. The confrontation had taken more from me than I wanted to admit. More than I would ever admit aloud.Except to him.Footsteps approached—measured, confident. The kind of footsteps that didn’t scramble or hesitate. Edgar didn’t follow; he simply arrived. I did not need to turn to feel it—that quiet gravitational pull of his presence settling behind me like a second spine.But I didn’t stop walking. Not because I wanted distance. Because I nee

CelesteThe weight of his stare pressed against my spine long after I turned away from Gethro. Dark. Hollow. Expectant. It sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the knowledge that one wrong move tonight could unravel everything I had fought to keep intact.I forced myself to breathe.Edgar’s hand was still warm against mine, his thumb brushing slow, absent circles over my knuckles as if the world beyond us did not exist. As if this banquet were not a carefully constructed stage balanced on secrets and half-truths.“Your thoughts are loud,” he murmured, leaning closer so only I could hear. “Care to share them with your husband?”I stiffened. “You always say that.”“And I am always right.”I offered a thin smile. “You are imagining things.”He hummed, clearly unconvinced, but mercifully let it go. His attention shifted as a group of nobles approached, their bows deep and their smiles strained with practiced reverence. I endured the greeting