The air inside the armoire was a stagnant, stifling shroud of moth-eaten wool and cedar. My heart hammered a frantic, desperate rhythm against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate for flight.
Through the narrow gap where the armoire doors met, I watched. The heavy, deliberate footsteps of my husband, the King, echoed from the corridor, each step a hammer blow against my frantic pulse.
The footsteps paused just outside. A moment of agonizing silence stretched the air thin. I could feel his presence, a cold and suffocating weight that pressed in on me, even before the rustle of his heavy robes filled the room. I held my breath, praying the faint, feminine scent of my perfume hadn't clung to the air.
Then, another set of footsteps, lighter, quicker, and a soft, feminine giggle followed. A wave of a different kind of dread, icy and sharp, washed over me. He was not alone.
The woman stood tall, her long, dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of night. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds in the light, shining bright with a hint of mischief and warmth. Her skin was smooth and flawless, with a subtle golden glow that hinted at hours spent in the sun.
Her features were delicate yet striking, with high cheekbones, a small nose, and full lips that curved into a gentle smile. Her smile could light up a room, drawing people to her like a magnet. She had a radiant presence, exuding confidence and poise that commanded attention.
She wore a fitted dress that accentuated her curves, showcasing her toned physique. The way she carried herself, with her head held high and her shoulders back, added to her allure, making her a vision of loveliness.
"You know my feelings for you has never changed." She said as she undressed. Then she started unbuttoning Christopher's shirt buttons but he stopped her midway.
"It has been decades already why can't you forget about her?" She asked angry. "Don't you remember what she did to you? She ruined your life. She took you away from me and I hate her for that. When I see her I'll kill her." Her voice full of hate.
"You will do no such thing, do I need to remind you what am capable of?" His voice dripping of warning. "If you dare lay a hand on her I will make you regret it. Now get out." He commanded.
Her eyes drooped, the sparkle dimming as a hurt look washed over her face. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and her lips parted in a faint gasp, as if the air had been knocked out of her. The corners of her mouth turned down, and her chin quivered ever so slightly, betraying her attempt to hold back tears.
The color seemed to drain from her cheeks, leaving them pale and vulnerable. Her gaze dropped, and she looked away, trying to hide the emotion welling up inside her. The hurt look was fleeting, but it was enough to tug at the heartstrings, making you want to reach out and comfort her.
Were they referring to Angelina?
She put her dress back on and left. Now it was only the King in the room. Then he turned and looked to where I was hiding and my heart stopped. Did he know I was there?