217
~Belinda's POV
I shut Uncle Fridolf's door behind me, and as the latch clicked, my lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. The fool thought he was the one pulling strings, but I knew better. His idea, his game. He would do the dirty work, and if anything went wrong, I would make sure he took the blame. I need to put a tail on him. I have been in these games for a while, and I knew what to do so that I wouldn't be a pawn in his game.
I smoothed my gown, checked my face in the polished metal on the wall, and let the wicked smile fade into something softer, broken, fragile, desperate. By the time I reached Rowan and Kael's chambers, I was no longer Belinda the schemer. I was Belinda, the victim.
The guards bowed as I stood waiting, my hands clasped, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Minutes later, Rowan, Kael, and Damon walked in together. My moment had come.
I stumbled forward, throwing myself into tears.
