TEWRIT 52

Episode 52

At last, Flint reached out toward Eliano. She sneered—of course he would. No matter how strong his resolve, he couldn’t resist the sight of a woman before him. Eliano shut her eyes tightly, expecting his hand to touch her. But instead, she felt something cold and sharp—not his hand.

Opening her eyes, she saw Flint drawing a dagger from beneath the pillow. In an instant, steel glinted in the candlelight.

Her gaze froze—he hadn’t wounded her. He had sliced the duvet’s fabric and cut his own arm.

Blood dripped onto the white sheet.

“This will be more than enough,” Flint’s calm voice said.

“Treat your body with care,” he added, gently laying the duvet back over her robe.

Eliano felt heat rising to her cheeks. It was a different kind of shame, deeper than anything she’d felt before. She bristled and replied coldly:

“I’ve cared for my body. That’s why I came to you.”

Flint lowered his sleeve, picked up her robe, and restored it around her. His gaze stayed steady, indifferent, almost cold—and just as composed as his touch. The heat between them vanished.

Eliano looked at his calm steel-gray eyes. She thought, “A wall of iron, indeed.”

“Don’t you think you’ve wasted your chance?” she challenged.

He replied softly:

“I’ve never thought of this as a chance, so I couldn’t lose one.”

He gently smoothed her robe. She held conflicting feelings—trust in his strength, but regret that it was directed at her and not the life she’d planned.

“Flint—have you ever embraced a woman? You’ll regret tonight.”

He answered quietly:

“There will be no regret tonight.”

She caught his meaning. She started to tease him:

“So you do have desire after all?”

He countered:

“You’ve already felt for yourself.”

Eliano paused, struck. She realized just how appealing he must be—strong arms, warm body. He wasn’t offended; he was amused.

He said in his low voice:

“I’m not without desire.”

Her silence followed.

“But I don’t satisfy it without feeling,” he added, fastening the ribbons of her smock carefully.

“And I’ve never regretted it.”

“You’ll regret tonight,” she teased again.

He replied with sincerity:

“You will be my wife, Eliano. I will never regret this.”

Eliano’s heart clenched. It was more than she had dared hope.

“But when the day comes that we truly love each other…that will be enough,” he said with steady certainty.

Heat rose in her cheeks; their eyes met briefly, and she looked away.

“Rest. The bed is big enough,” he said, pulling the drape over her and stepping back.

His steady gaze followed her until he finished.

But Eliano couldn’t sleep. Flint kept his distance—no touch, no embrace. She felt relief more than fear. She’d known from a past life that without love, physical intimacy could be painful. But Flint’s presence felt different.

Still, she needed his support—for protection, for legitimacy, for a child. She debated approaching him again, but he whispered,

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

He lay beside her, calm and polite. She accepted. He helped her into a robe and offered fruit tea.

They shared a long, quiet conversation. As dawn shimmered, Flint politely offered to see her home, but she shook her head, worn and contemplative.

“I need rest—it’s been a long night.”

He led her to bed, covered her gently, and asked if she wished the light off. She sensed his concern.

“Do you sleep?” she asked.

“Not tonight,” he replied quietly. “Tonight is beyond all major decisions.”

She couldn’t see his expression, but she understood. Eliano lay awake, thinking—worried about Jane, about being discovered, and about her father’s plans to trade her off with Zacador. She needed public proof of Flint’s affection.

Shadows of sleep gathered over her when a loud knock broke the silence.

“FLINT HOWARD—!!!”

A voice thundered, far too loud for the pre-dawn hour. Eliano’s heart jumped—those footsteps…

She knew instantly: it was Crown Prince Heriath. Such intrusion was unheard of. Yet Flint hadn’t responded with anger—this must be normal.

She realized how close Flint and Heriath must be. Still, Heriath’s behavior was reckless.

Eliano thought quickly. This could stir gossip…
Heriath controlled social rumor—if he entered now, everything—and everyone—would hear.

Taking a bold step, she let her robe shift loose and pushed aside the duvet, revealing the bloodstain on the sheet.

A second later, she tossed her pillow and tapped the drape.

Footsteps rushed. The curtain was thrown aside—and there stood the person she had dreaded.