His Majesty's Devious Sins-Chapter 170 - Spiteful Mouth

"On a second thought," Lydia suddenly said, glancing at her best friend and her younger brother. "Linden, meet Her Grace. Addy, meet my useless brother."

Adeline opened her mouth to say something, but Lydia quickly escaped. She blinked in surprise, turning her head in the direction that Lydia was walking off to.

Before she could look further, Linden was suddenly in front of her, blocking her gaze. She was taken off-guard, raising her head to look at him properly. He used to be so tiny, and now, he towered over her.

"What do you even like about my sister, Your Grace?" Linden asked, emphasizing her title sarcastically.

Adeline's brows shot up. Lydia rarely spoke about Linden, but Adeline still remembered his name. "What is there to not like?" Adeline returned.

"Many qualities," Linden deadpanned. "You chose the wrong person to support, Your Grace."

Linden took a step closer to her, his hands tucked into his front pockets. He smiled down at her, a look that had wooed many women into his bed. No one could resist the handsome smirk of Linden Claymore, renowned for his charms and charisma.

"I recommend keeping your distance, Linden," Adeline curtly said. Not for her sake, but his. Elias would have this poor man's head on a stake.

"Why?" Linden mused. "You clearly enjoy the presence of Claymores, Your Grace. I recall my sister's desperation to get to you when you were living at your old estate with the Mardens."

Adeline raised a brow. This boy knew a lot. "I have time to entertain the heiress, not the baby of the family," she deadpanned.

Linden's arrogant expression morphed. He liked her. She was much feistier than he expected. From her small silhouette, and naive features, he thought she was just a dewy-eyed girl who easily fell in love. f𝑟e𝒆𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗oѵ𝐞𝗹.c૦𝑚

"You wound me, Your Grace, truly," Linden sarcastically remarked, placing a hand upon his c.h.e.s.t. He bent his head down a bit, his smile widening.

"If you will give me a bit of your time, I can prove to you that I do not possess any of my sister's personality. In fact, I would be a much more beneficial ally to you," Linden said.

Linden knew the way to the King's support was through the Queen. He had scoured far and wide for the information, and discovered the King's weakness was none other than his wife.

Supposedly, the King had a scuffle with his closest friends, all for the Queen. The cause of the fight was unknown… Linden wished he knew what influenced the fight in the first place.

Linden couldn't care less about being seen with the Queen, like Lydia so desperately wanted. Linden d.e.s.i.r.ed much more than that. He wanted the King. not the Queen.

"Oh?" Adeline said, feigning interest. Perhaps, she could use this to her advantage.

"Why don't we talk in private?" Linden offered. "If you help me, I can give you more than what my sister offers you. In fact, I don't mind giving you very expensive shares of Claymore Conglomerate."

"Do you even know anything to bring your sister down from her position?" Adeline mused.

Linden blinked in surprise. "No, but I am willing to offer you much more than what—"

"What Lydia has offered me is much greater than money can ever buy," Adeline responded.

Adeline decided it wasn't worth her time to entertain Linden any further. She only wanted to hear more because she thought there was information that could harm Lydia. Seeing as there wasn't, she was disinterested.

"What could glass doorsbe better than money?" Linden remarked, looking at her as if she was stupid. Did the Queen of Wraith not realize the importance of money? It was the answer to everyone's problems! Surely, she wasn't going to pull some crap about friendship being priceless?

"Loyalty," Adeline muttered. "Something you obviously lack to buy in people."

Before Linden could respond, Adeline turned on her heels and walked off. She was disgruntled by Linden's presence, realizing what a snake he was. She supposed money changed people. Blood may be thicker than water, but money was King.

Besides, Adeline had shares in Claymore Conglomerate already. It was inherited from her father, but not enough to make her a member of the shareholder meetings. If it was truly that much, Adeline would've worked much harder to help Lydia.

"Speaking of Lydia, where did she go?" Adeline mumbled to herself, her eyes quickly sweeping the room. Suddenly, she realized all of those that she knew were nowhere to be seen.

Elias was gone. Lydia had disappeared. The twins poofed. She blinked, suddenly feeling very alone. Huh. Where did everyone go?

- - - - -

Lydia couldn't believe how horrible her luck was! First, she was interrupted by Linden, and then, she saw Asher and Elias conversing. She quickly made her way through the crowd before a dispute broke out at her banquet. She felt guilty for leaving Adeline behind, but knew the Queen could handle her ground.

"Oh god, don't fight for Adeline here," Lydia muttered under her breath, her imagination going wild. She was imagining a fistfight between Asher and the King, one that'd end horribly.

Just as she speed-walked through the crowd, a hand grabbed her wrist. Lydia spun around, her eyes wide.

"Weston," Lydia breathed out, before she could even stop herself.

His name rolled off her tongue effortlessly, and she was reminded of their passionate kiss. He seemed infuriated by her already, and all she did was utter his name.

"Come with me," Weston bit out, before she could even protest. His voice was rough and dark as if he was losing his patience and control already.

"No," Lydia hissed. "Unhand me."

Lydia tugged her hand back, but Weston yanked her towards him. Her breath hitched when his eyes flashed a dangerous red, the color of pigeon blood.

"I've waited long enough," Weston growled, his grip tightening on her wrist. "We're going to settle what's between us this instant, or else you're not leaving this banquet."

Lydia glared at him. She suddenly realized she was drawing a crowd. Of course, she would. When one of the country's most influential politicians was holding the wrist of the new Chairwoman, who wouldn't want to look?

"Fine," Lydia hissed, allowing herself to be dragged by him.

Lydia glanced back, worried about Asher and Elias, but suddenly, they were nowhere in sight. Before she could even protest, she found herself being forced through the crowd and out the glass-doors leading to a secluded garden.

"Where are we going?" Lydia asked, her voice hesitating, like her skipping heart.

Weston didn't respond to her, his jaw clenched so tight, she saw the muscle twitch. He seemed furious and frustrated. Over what?

Weston glanced back only once, but it wasn't at her. It was towards her dress, a daring golden color, that marked her the star of tonight's show. Whenever Lydia walked, the light dazzled upon her perfect silhouette. The dress made her look like a goddess parading around her domain. Not a single man could look away from her. Not when she was so f.u.c.k.i.n.g perfect.

"You'll find out soon enough," Weston spat out.

"Oh hell no," Lydia gritted. "If you're going to be at my celebration banquet, you better show me some respect."

Lydia yanked her hand back. Before she could touch her again, she grabbed him by his tie and began pulling him.

Lydia refused to let him lead her. She held onto his tie, like a pretty little leash, as she guided him outside. Evidently, Weston didn't like that, his hand flying to her wrist.

"Do you have to be so insufferable?" Weston asked.

Weston grabbed her in time to stop them in their path. He yanked her close until their c.h.e.s.ts brushed against each other, and they were in each other's faces, breathing harshly.

Lydia's breath was caught in her throat. She looked up at him, suddenly surprised by how irritatingly handsome this bastard was. Before she could even say something, Weston shoved her outside of the doors and into the gardens.

"Let go of me!" Lydia argued, but he didn't.

Weston yanked her behind a bush, and towards a secluded wall, where no one could hear her scream.

The cold air nipped at her exposed skin, the wind howling in the distance, but Lydia was far too distracted by his icy grip.

"You insufferable woman!" Weston barked at her.

"What did you just say?" Lydia argued, her eyes narrowed into slits.

"You heard me," Weston said. "Would it kill you to have some respect?"

"For you?" Lydia remarked. "It'd kill me so much I'd be on a one-way ticket to Hell!"

"At least you know where you belong," Weston scoffed.

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure Satan will have a seat for you in the deepest pit of Hell," Lydia deadpanned.

"What did you just say?" His pupils dilated, the red of his iris becoming even more prominent.

Lydia stumbled a bit. He looked terrifying when angered, a red flame burning in his eyes. A storm cloud rolled over him, thunder crackling in the distance. The air around them thickened, but she refused to back down from this fight.

"Don't tell me you're deaf," Lydia scoffed. "Some Pure-Blood you are—"

Weston crashed his lips over hers, surprising her. Her hands flew to his c.h.e.s.t, pushing at him, but he didn't budge. He slammed her against the wall, one hand behind her head, the other grabbing her chin.

Weston kissed her roughly, as a means of punishing her. He pinned her body to the stone, his h.i.p.s pressing into her tiny one, forcing her to feel the full extent of his aggravation.