[cw: physical abuse]

"What have we here, a tryst with a guard?" said Pierre. He puckered his lips into a pout, lowering his lashes as he moved closer, pausing to run one red tipped fingernail down Darren's shoulder, his lips pulling into a coy grin.

But just as quickly he focused back on me, something hot and forbidden flashing in them. "My, my, you sure know how to tempt my jealousy. First, you hang off my brother all night, now I catch you whispering in the shadows with this handsome man."

I pressed my lips together, looking at Pierre warily. Usually, I would be amused by his wiles, but right now it only grated on my nerves.

"Nothing of the sort, Your Highness. I was only taking a break and my guard was checking on me." I gestured to Darren. "I was telling him that I wish to be left alone," I added, my tone coming out colder than I intended.

Pierre's smile slipped off his face, blue gaze turning to ice. "So cold. I was only hoping now that you were free from my brother, I might be able to have a moment."

Guilt smothered me, and I loosened my shoulders. It was not fair to take this out on Pierre. He was simply being himself.

"My apologies. Tonight has been long. Your company is always welcome."

I glanced at Darren, and I nodded dismissively. Darren's expression quickly soured, but he dutifully bowed and parted from us, leaving Pierre and me alone.

Pierre smiled brightly, linking his arm with mine. He glanced around the room quickly.

"Let us go somewhere a little more private..." He winked at me. I smiled at him thinly but shook my head.

"Not now Pierre. I've already been gone from Jourdon too long. He's going to be looking for me."

Pierre pouted. "Oh, come one, just a few moments." He dipped his head down, breath brushing my ear. "You know I never take long to please you."

My cheeks flushed, but it was not enough to banish my nerves. Pierre was so pushy sometimes; it was hard not to get wrapped up in the storm he always brought with him. He started to pull me forwards, but I pressed my heels into the ground, my body stiff.

"No, Pierre. I mean it. Others are already suspicious of us."

The carefree expression on Pierre's face slipped, something hard passing through his eyes. "I don't care what they think. I just want one minute alone with you. You owe me after I've had to suffer through watching you and perfect Jourdon all night."

Frustration and guilt warred within me. It was a terrible idea to slip away with Pierre right now, but he was a distraction, and a distraction was what I wanted more than anything at that moment.

Besides, if I had been forced to watch him on the arm of another man or woman all night, I probably wouldn't be all to happy either. i frowned. Perhaps I was more attached to Pierre than I initially thought.

"Just a few moments—and no one can see us."

Eyes alight, he bit his lip seductively. "I wouldn't mind being watched," he purred.

"Pierre," I said in exasperation. "Please."

He laughed merrily, pulling me deeper into the shadows of the room. Fortunately, the other courtiers weren't paying much mind to the world around them. A drunken haze had overtaken the room. It was so unlike any ball I had attended before. In Rosailles though liquor ran freely, it was rarely so widely consumed with such... excess.

I hurried my steps to match Pierre's. Jourdon was out there somewhere, possibly already searching for me. I couldn't risk him seeing me with Pierre.

Pierre tugged into a hallway. It was one of the servants' halls, less adorned than the rest of the palace. There was only a single flickering sconce on the wall to light it, cool brick lining the passage. Pierre led me through the thick shadows, pressing me against the wall.

"Ophelia," he murmured. "My rose. My angel." He dipped his head, caressing his lips softly over mine. "How I have longed for you."

Warmth enveloped me, and I felt myself relaxing in Pierre's embrace. This was likely the last time he would ever hold me. Silence stretched between us as I pressed into him. I was sad to be leaving him.

I had gotten myself in too deep, and Pierre was the force pulling me under.

"So, I see you have no intention to talk at all," I murmured back, voice thick. Pierre hummed, Pressing soft, feathering kisses down my jaw. He brushed his nose up to my ear.

"Don't run."

I immediately went tense, pulling away from Pierre to look at him. He wasn't smiling.

"How did you know?"

"You think you are a talented liar, my sweet, but you wear every single one of your untruths clearly all over your face. I am no fool, that is how I know."

The sultry, seductive quality of his voice a moment ago was gone. He stood straight, both of his hands falling on the wall on either side of me, caging me in. Panic welled up inside my chest and I tried to force it down.

Relax, it's just Pierre. He won't hurt you. He's just hurt.

"You're angry."

Pierre's eyes showed nothing. "Of course I am. I was willing to ignore all this after you came to my bed, but things are different now."

He kept saying that. Things are different now. Of course they were, but he didn't understand. I had been selfish to go to him when I was so weak, and he didn't deserve this, but he was going to have to let me go.

I glanced around the hall. It was empty. Since it didn't lead to the kitchen where most of the servants were coming and going, it was unlikely anyone would come by. Pierre and I were alone.

"Look, Pierre. I have enjoyed this, it's been magical. You are more than what I ever imagined happening before I came to Garnette. I am so happy I met you—I wish I had been betrothed to you instead." I shook my head, tears rising unbidden to my eyes. I swallowed, trying to keep them down. This was hard enough already. "But I'm not safe here, not now, not ever. If the king does not behead me for this affair, Jourdon will have it before we are even wed. Don't you see?"

Pierre snorted. "The king is a fool. He would only be angry your affair was not with him." His lips curled, his expression breaking into something harsh—something foreign. I flinched back from him.

Something about him seemed different.

I took a steadying breath. "Even if that is the case, there is still Jourdon. He—He's in league with the Aurelians. I can't marry him."

Pierre closed his eyes, impatience flitting across his lightly pressed lips. He leaned in closer, his eyes taking up everything I could see. It was like he was going to kiss me—but different. There was an edge to it. Like the sharp line of a knife.

"Jourdon that, Jordon this. I'm really tiring of hearing that name," he snarled. "Are you so blind you cannot see what is right in front of you, Princess?"

My heart slammed into my ribcage. I knew Pierre was upset, but what had come over him? This was unlike him. It was like someone else had come and stepped into his shoes.

"Pierre, please. You know we can't be together..."

His fist slammed against the wall, right next to my face. My eyes went wide and my mouth when dry. One whisper started, then three more joined in, like a gathering crowd forming around us, watching with intent, gleeful eyes.

"Don't lie." His voice was harsh, echoing through the abandoned hall. "You have always been mine. You said it yourself. You gave yourself to me."

"You're scaring me." I tried to push him away, but the slight boy was gone. His shoulders were tense, and I realized then how wide they were. How strong he was. Had he really never fought or trained a day in his life?

Pierre brushed his hand over my cheek, the whisper of a caress. He left a slick smear of blood in his wake, his hand injured from hitting the wall. I was trembling. Something had changed in Pierre. He wasn't himself—he was broken. I wasn't sure if I had been the cause, or if it had always been there, I was just too oblivious to see.

"Scared, little rose? Rose's shouldn't be afraid. How weak and fragile you pretend to be. You know it could be changed. You have access to so much more yet here you are... complacent to wilt away without ever realizing your true potential." His lips curled in disgust. "I tried to tell you, I tried to save you from your fate as only I can. But you resist me. You need me more than I need you, Ophelia. I am giving you one last chance."

I shook my head. He was making no sense. "Pierre..."

His hand trailed down my cheek and fell to my neck. The grooves of his rings dug into my skin as it tightened. I gasped, hands rising to scratch at him. He tilted his head forward, bringing his lips to mine again. But I had no illusions now. Pierre was not who I had thought he was. His lips were poison. He accused me of lying, but he was the greatest liar of them all.

"Where is it?" he demanded coolly, whispering against my lips. "Where is the stone?"

I glared at him as I struggled under his grip. The hand on my neck tightened. And I knew. I saw all my foolish mistakes laid out before me. How I had allowed myself to be misled.

Pierre had been all too happy to lead me along. All the assumptions I had made just because Jourdon had been gone. How readily I had painted him the villain when I had been sharing my real enemy's bed.

"Jourdon's not the Aurelian leader," I wheezed. "It's you."

Pierre smirked. "Ah, finally catching on. Now tell me. Where is it?"

I struggled under his fingers. I wouldn't tell him. I would never betray Rosailles in that way. I spat in his face.

"I'd rather die," I sneered. Everything that had transpired between Pierre and me flashed through my mind, my heart lurching. It was all lies. I didn't have time to cry now. If he killed me, I would not let those be my last thoughts.

I thought of what Blanche would do. She would stand strong and unbending. I remembered Elliotte's playful smile, and Darren's concerned eyes. Sabine's face as she vowed loyalty to me. I could not let all of them down.

Pierre's lips twisted with fury. He gripped my neck, pulling me forward then slammed my head back against the wall. Pain pounded through my skull, black spots swarmed across my vision. The whispers came all at once.

Taunting and relentless and slippery sweet.

Burning pain prickled across my shoulder blades. Something sticky seeped under my dress, from my head or my back, I was not sure. I stopped struggling. I tried to gasp for air but nothing--

A door opened, followed by footsteps. Pierre's grip loosened and I collapsed to the ground wheezing. My vision swam. Sound. Someone was talking.

A voice. One I knew well. I looked up to see Jourdon gazing back at us, a storm swarming across his face as he took me in. His gaze shifted to Pierre.

"Brother, what is the meaning of this.?