Previously, I didn't think much of Tristan's absence. In the beginning, I preferred him gone and as far away from me as possible. It was always a good riddance moment for me. Later, I started to tolerate his presence, and then I needed it for the sake of defeating the curse. Now, the curse was vanquished, and our allotted day for dates had not reached.

Yet.

Yet his absence was a constant thought—a new plague that I wished gone forever.  So when Genevieve the maid arrived to pick my dirty laundry the next morning, an inquiry about said Devereux chap was the first thing that left my mouth—morning greetings forgotten.

Her answer had my heart drumming melodiously while my stomach danced to its tunes. My brain...well, it shot orders to my limbs, currently wrapped in the beddings.

I could not get out of bed fast enough, could not get ready fast enough. It was only while I put the finishing touches in my hair—a neck tie—and followed the rhythm of my internal self by humming a joyous tune, that I stopped to think. Really think.

What on bloody good earth was the excitement about? Surely, I couldn't be excited to see Tristan?

You are. Do not deny it.

No, I was not! I was simply looking forward to seeing him alive and well. Especially since the last image of him was that depressing talk we had with me tied up in his neck ties as a measure against the taalmin. Nay, I was only curious about how he had been since then, that's all.

We had a great deal to talk about, and it was best to hop right to it and get it out of the way. That was it. That was all.

I fluffed my hair, still humming. A glance led me to a small container of strawberry lip balm on the dresser.

A little bit wouldn't hurt.

I applied some, carefully smacking my lips to spread it out.

I wondered whether he would notice.

Not just him, of course. Lea too. And Rebecca. And Madam Felicity.

I looked myself over one last time and beamed, satisfied with my reflection.

We had decided to have the cake-tasting after breakfast, just before Mr. Edgar and Adrian left for work. I only rushed down the stairs because I was enthusiastic about that; nothing more.

I came into the dining room with a sunny smile and chirped, "Good morning, everyone!"

While they replied my greetings, my gaze fell upon Tristan's empty seat. Rebecca's was empty as well.

Mmmmmmmmmm.

I pursed my lips, sitting down beside Lea. Everyone was busy discussing Adrian's birthday party tomorrow while my mind dwelled on why Rebecca and Tristan weren't here yet. When they eventually showed, they were talking to each other and smiling. He pulled the chair back for her to sit before taking his own seat.

They greeted us, but my reply was a disgruntled mumble. My eyes raked over Tristan. He donned all black and no tie. The first few buttons of his dress shirt were open, revealing a jade pendant settled in the curve between his collar bones. His hair was floppy and a mess today, but it still looked good. He still looked good, damn him.

Something was different about him. He denied me a view of his eyes, not once looking in my direction. Even his greeting had been generic to everybody.

This wasn't our usual breakfast. His usual greeting to me was either 'Maewitch,' or 'fraudster,' accompanied by a smirk. I would follow with  'fiend,' and a sickly-sweet smile. We also occasionally had a glare-off, and annoyed each other by making the other say please whenever a request to pass something was made.

But today was stark silence, and not the comfortable one. He was...cold. He didn't acknowledge my presence at all, regardless of how hard I stared at him. He only looked at me when Madam Felicity asked whether I wanted a new dress for Adrian's party, and I declined. Even then, it was a mere glance. No smirk, no playful banter. His indifference unsettled me.

Later, Lea, the butler and I fetched the cakes from the kitchen for Adrian to taste. He wasn't supposed to know who baked which cake so he wouldn't be biased. I thought that was a ridiculous notion, as did Lea. In her words, "Mr. Adrian is an honest reviewer."

Lea cut into the first cake, serving a piece onto a side plate and handing it to him. With a fork, he took a bite while we all watched in anticipation.

His face didn't betray anything as he chewed, then swallowed. With a nod, he said, "It's fine."

"Out of ten?" Madam Felicity asked, enjoying herself more than the birthday boy.

"Six," Adrian replied.

Lea cut into the second cake and served it to him. Again, his face was blank as his mouth worked. One would think he was munching on chalk.

"Eight out of ten," Adrian awarded.

As Lea cut into the last cake, Madam Felicity sang, "Final decision!"

Adrian took a bite, and this time, his face did change. His brow furrowed as he chewed and swallowed.

"This...doesn't taste familiar," he said, opting for another bite.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Mr. Edgar asked.

Adrian seemed pensive. Instead of answering, he had another bite and mumbled, "What's in this?"

"Do you like it or not, son?"

Madam Felicity chortled. "He must, since he can't stop eating it."

At last, Adrian gave his review. "It's good, but there's something too sweet in it I can't place. Seven out of ten."

Madam felicity clapped her hands joyously. "We have a winner! So, who is the lucky lady to have her recipe—"

Adrian coughed. It could have been dismissed as a simple cough, if not for him struggling to loosen his tie and gasping.

"Mr. Adrian?" Lea asked cautiously.

Her husband wheezed and pawed at his neck, where red blotches had started to appear. His eyes bulged as another cough ripped out of him, dislodging any remnants of the cake he'd chewed up.

"Addy!"

Chairs scraped against the floor and cutlery clattered everywhere as his family members jumped out of their seats, dashing towards him. I stood rooted to the ground as Lea and Madam Felicity coddled him, making a quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. The blotches spread over his jaw to his face, which was beginning to swell.

"What's happening to him!" Rebecca cried.

Tristan turned to the table. He swiped up the last slice of cake Lea had cut and stuffed his mouth with it. Eyes wide, he proclaimed, "There's apricots in this!"

"What!" Everyone, including me, shrieked.

"Oh my goodness, I told you apricots were poison to him!" Madam Felicity wailed, pressing her shaking hands into Adrian's swollen face as he gasped for air. "How could this have happened!"

"Adrian!" Mr. Edgar called to his son. His voice was strong, but the panicked edge to it was evident. "Adrian, where do you keep your medicine?"

Adrian was a wheezing, teary-eyed slobbery mess, incapable of speaking anything intelligible.

My body trembled, my mind reeling from the events unfolding before me. I jolted when Tristan boomed the dreaded question. "Who made this cake!"

Lea reached underneath the table and pulled out Adrian's briefcase. Her fingers worked quickly, opening it up and sifting through.

My tongue was as heavy as a pot of sand as the cries of panic continued around me.

"Addy my dear, hold on! Oh dear! My boy," Madam Felicity's pleas cut right into my chest. "Why? I told you it was poison! Why?"

"Is no one going to answer me!" Tristan demanded in a clipped tone that had my nerves spinning in terror. His harsh glare shifted from Lea, to Rebecca and then me.

Rebecca's horrified gaze turned to me. "Mavis, you baked an apricot cake."

I shrunk back, afraid of what I saw in Tristan's eyes.

"Here!" Lea picked out a vial and syringe, handing it to Mr. Edgar.

His hands were deft despite the turmoil surrounding him. In a couple of seconds. He had drawn out the liquid from the vial with the syringe and administered it through Adrian's neck.

"It's your cake," Tristan's frosty tone turned my attention back to him. His nostrils flared as his eyes blazed with fury. It was a look I had long forgotten from him; one I thought I would never meet again.

My lips quiveres. "Y-yes, but I...I didn't mean to."

That was all the wording I got in before he grabbed my wrist, pressing into my skin and yanking me behind him. My feet stumbled to follow his stride into the unoccupied kitchen. He let me go, releasing my arm like it was a dirty rag.

Away from the commotion, he stated an accusation that sounded more like a verdict."You tried to poison him."

I shook my head and opened my mouth to protest, but only managed a few stutters.

"You knew he couldn't have apricots. My mother made it clear to you, but you went and served him the very thing she told you not to."

I shook my head again before finally finding the words to defend myself. "No...No, I didn't."

"It is your cake!" he yelled suddenly, making me flinch. His face was twisted in pure anger, his eyes filled with the scorn one would give a criminal.

I composed myself as much as my shaken being could allow me and tried to explain."Yes, but I...I baked another one. I baked another one and—"

"And you chose to serve him one filled with his poison. You did that, Mavis. You brought it into the dining room, didn't you?"

I shook my head vehemently, as if that would clear all the allegations. "No, I...No...." Alas, my mind was fragmented, with nothing to rely on to piece it back together. "The cake was on the island..." I pointed to the island. "...and I got it, but it wasn't the actual cake—"

"What are you even saying, Mavis?" he fired at me, not the least bit bothered by my disoriented state. "You have been caught red-handed, so why do you keep trying to deny it?"

"Because you won't listen to me!" I cried in frustration. "I don't know how this happened!"

He regarded me with a scowl, as if he couldn't believe I had the gall to defend myself. "What kind of excuse is that?"

"It isn't an excuse," I asserted, growing more frustrated by the second. My own anger was forming from his one-sided outburst; at how first he jumped to this conclusion. "I am offended that you would think that of me. Especially after all we've been through."

"It is exactly because of what we've been through that I would think this," he snarled. "You bore the curse instead of him. You were vengeful. You know that he has little time left. You probably thought that since he's going to die anyway, why not speed it up the inevitable?"

My chest constricted at the accusations, but wrapped around it was the same fire he spit at me.  "I never held that against him. Even if I did, I am not so evil that I would try and kill him!"

"Why else would you do it then?" He nodded at me with nothing short of distaste. He chuckled wryly. "Oh, I see. You wished to hurt me. You've always disliked me. The moment that curse clung onto you, you clung onto me. You only needed me to protect you, and that's all it was. Now that I saved your life and the curse is broken, you've shown your true colours. You want me to suffer because of you."

"Are you listening to yourself?" I asked, flabbergasted by the words coming from his mouth. "I wouldn't do any of that and you know it. You know me!"

"Do I? Do I really know you?" he flung the question right back. "You aren't part of this family. You're just someone who jumped into my life when I didn't even want you here. You masqueraded your way in here, but you'll always be an outsider. And as an outsider, I can never trust you. It had to be you and no one else to harm my brother. It's you and no one else to hurt me!"

His words were a sword aimed right for my heart, and that only served to have me draw my own and lunge.

"Classic egocentric Tristan!" I barked, wholly engulfed by the flames of fury. This wasn't just about the cake anymore. "Everything has to be about you. You have to make everything about yourself and blame everything but yourself! I cannot even fathom how your family likes you. I tried to put up with you, but in the end, there's only so much you can do for someone who's unlovable!"

My breaths were heavy from my outburst, and his chest heaved as well.  As the last of my words left my mouth, the slight surprise and hurt mixed in his eyes was a testament to the sharpness of my sword.

The look was momentary, covered up by a sudden impassiveness that blocked out any kind of emotion. Gone was the raging man—in his place a blank, hollow shell. It was momentary, but that look poked through my fury. Hard enough to make me see how horrible what I said was.

His voice was low when he next spoke, but the finality in his message was clear. "I do not wish to see you again, Mavis."

My eyes stung with unshed tears, but I blinked them away. I maintained my scowl in a battle of pride, but my anger was parting quickly. It would soon pave way for regret.

Tristan walked past me in profound silence, making his way towards the back exit. I stayed there for a while, and the wetness in my eyes returned. I looked up, drawing a breath to keep my emotions at bay, then released it slowly.

I ambled towards the dining room, but found everyone had relocated to the sitting room.

Adrian lay in one of the settees. His head rested on Madam Felicity's lap as she stroked his hair, everyone else gathered around him. He seemed to breathe properly now, and the swelling had gone down.

I stepped forward towards them, but Tristan's words echoed in my mind.

"You aren't part of this family. You are an outsider."

I ceased my advance. Instead, I hurried up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom.

Author's chatter:

I have to say; that escalated quickly. Even I get worn out by Tristan sometimes.

Thank you for reading😊 and don't forget to vote⭐️!