Garden Of Poison-Chapter 216: His hands around hers

Emily’s grip on the hammer tightened as she locked her gaze with Marshall’s, who stared back at her with a wary expression. There was an unmistakable glint of contempt in his eyes, which held disgust towards her.

She raised her hand, ready to strike him, but her hand abruptly halted midway, clutching the handle tightly. The desire to hurt him back, just like he had hurt her, to make him feel the pain and the shame that people had directed towards her, surged within her. However, she couldn’t go through with it, as it wasn’t who she was.

Marshall had closed his eyes, ready to receive the blow that never landed.

A sigh resonated in the room, emanating from Raylen, and he said, "Drop the hammer. You are incapable of using it."

Though Emily was oblivious to the archdemon’s underlying intention, Marshall wasn’t, and he shook his head. She aimed the hammer at his hand and shut her eyes.

"AH!!!!" Marshall’s agonised scream echoed through the deserted corridors.

Emily could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through her body, and her lower lip trembled as she opened her eyes, hearing Marshall’s continued groans and cries. When she looked at his hand, she realised the hammer had veered from its intended target, landing between his legs.

"I must say, Princess, your aim is lethal."

Horrified and equally embarrassed, Emily hastily let go of the hammer’s handle and stepped backwards.

"I—I didn’t mean to do that," Emily stammered as Marshall continued to groan. She whispered, "I am sorry..."

Raylen’s sinister smile grew even wider, and he remarked, "I am certain the women he indirectly killed will bless you plenty as thanks." He picked up the hammer from between Marshall’s legs and suggested, "I was thinking we could take this one finger at a time. You know, to extend our party."

Emily turned away from the two men, her face scrunching in discomfort, and replied, "I think I am done." She brought her hands close to her chest.

"You sure?" she heard Raylen ask her.

"Yes. Very, very sure," Emily nodded, staring at the room’s entrance. She continued, "He paid for the rumour he spread, and I also hit—"

Her words were abruptly interrupted by a sound resembling the cracking of knuckles, but this was longer and lingered enough for her to realise what had occurred. She spun around to look behind her, and her face drained of colour.

"You killed him?!" She had proposed a public execution, but she hadn’t expected his death so soon.

"Now, don’t be mean. I asked you, and you said you were done with him," Raylen replied nonchalantly as Marshall’s head oozed blood, staining his clothes and the ground. "You damaged the poor man’s manhood, so I wanted to relieve him from his misery."

"Don’t turn that one on me," Emily retorted, glaring at Raylen. She had woken up with a muddled mind and heard screams echoing from the castle’s lower floor. Not to mention, for some inexplicable reason, she had felt a growing sense of agitation, and with the kerosene of hurtful words added to the mix, she had turned angry and resorted to using the hammer.

"Princess, what did we discuss regarding taking responsibility for our actions?" Raylen inquired calmly, as if he hadn’t just killed someone. "You know deep down you wanted him gone, and frankly, I like it that way. We don’t need insignificant insects like this one when they can simply be squashed." He noticed how she avoided looking at Marshall’s cracked and bloodied head. There was the princess’s conscience, he thought to himself.

Emily wondered what would happen when people noticed that the man was missing. Or maybe no one would? Even though she didn’t like this turn of events, the rumours would stop, and she wouldn’t have to worry about crossing paths with Marshall ever again. Justice had also been served to the women whom he had harmed in the past.

"Why don’t you go and get a good night’s sleep?" Raylen suggested, resting the bloody hammer against his shoulder.

Emily fixed him a stern gaze and asked, "You think I will have a good night’s sleep after that?"

"I usually sleep like a baby," Raylen responded with a straight face.

That’s because something is wrong with your head! Emily yelled at him in her mind.

"If it helps the princess sleep, I was the one who brought him here and killed him," Raylen reassured her, only to rile her by adding, "Which you weren’t skilled enough to do yourself, being a princess and all, and chickening out."

Emily’s hand shook, and she pointed out, "I didn’t chicken out. I agreed to the torture and followed through."

"One swing. All words. You and I both know what happened," Raylen responded in a dismissive tone that didn’t sit well with Emily. "Yo—!"

Emily had seized the dagger that Raylen had previously offered her, using it to swipe dangerously close to his face. She warned, "Don’t you dare call me a chicken."

Raylen grinned at Emily, even with the sharp tip of the dagger pointed at him. He challenged her, "You finally have a sharp dagger." Call it boredom or dissatisfaction from his kill, he was still looking for something to tickle his cold and hollow soul. He smiled and said, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."

Emily clenched her jaw before she relaxed it, rolling her eyes at him. She turned her back to him, as if she had no intention of playing to his tune.

Raylen’s head tilted slightly, and he took a step forward and asked, "Giving up?"

But Emily had never given up. His step towards her was enough to bring them into close quarters, allowing her to pivot and swing the hand holding the dagger. She didn’t stop attacking him, forcing him to keep moving back and veering to the side whenever he neared the wall.

"Tricks up your sleeve," Raylen observed as his eyes lit up, impressed by her skill.

"Thought you would appreciate it," Emily remarked, nearly running the dagger into his face, and the metal clinked upon colliding with the wall. Fired up to make at least a single scratch on him, she pulled the dagger back and turned towards where Raylen stood, dusting off his shirt.

It wasn’t that Emily didn’t appreciate the archdemon’s help, but his taunting remarks didn’t sit well with her, and they only fueled her determination to prove him wrong. Not giving up, her dagger continued to chase him, but even she was keenly aware that overpowering him wasn’t an easy task. It seemed as if he always managed to evade her every time she was close to stabbing him.

"I used to have this cat when I was young. I would dangle a string, and it would chase it around," Raylen said casually, and the next moment, Emily’s dagger got stuck in the wall.

As Emily attempted to dislodge the dagger, Raylen swiftly seized her wrists. He pressed one against the wall and twisted the other behind her back, keeping her pinned against the wall. She tried to push him off, but the archdemon was a damn wall!

"Our slumber party is going better than I initially thought," Raylen chuckled from behind her.

"Okay. I am ready to go to sleep," Emily said as she went still.

"What an obedient princess," Raylen said, carefully letting go of her wrists and stepping back. He could already tell that the princess was glaring at the wall, and his lips twisted into a smile.

Emily coughed, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, and simultaneously, she executed a swift kick to Raylen’s leg, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards, landing with his back against the ground. In an instant, she had the dagger positioned just below his chin, and she saw him narrow his eyes at her. She said,

"Don’t underestimate me."

"And now you are straddling me," Raylen raised his eyebrows, and just as Emily was about to get up, he swiftly rolled, reversing their positions and pinning her beneath him. Before she could react, he pressed her hands against the ground. "And that’s how it is done, Princess," he remarked with a smug expression.

Dammit! Emily cursed herself for not being vigilant. She had almost won against him! Next time, she promised herself, she would get him.

Raylen watched her with amusement dancing in his blue eyes. She glared at him quietly, her hazel brown eyes as alive as his. He didn’t straddle her, but his body hovered above her, and he noticed how her hair spread around her head with her lips slightly parted as she struggled to catch her breath after their chase. Her face looked flushed, and the soft light around them added a unique ambience to the night. Almost instinctively, his face unconsciously inched closer to hers, drawn like a bee to a flower.

Emily’s eyes widened in alarm as the distance between them slowly diminished. W—what did he think he was doing?! Feeling the grip of his hands around hers loosen, she quickly pulled her hands back to push him off her.

"You stay away from me!" Emily glared at him before hurriedly leaving the room.

Raylen sat on the ground with one of his legs pulled up and the other stretched out, snapped out of the trance he had indulged in. He heard Emily’s footsteps echoing through the corridor as they gradually faded away. One side of his cheek burned, a red line marking the spot where Emily’s fingernail had scratched him when she had pushed him away.

His hand ran across the angry line where blood oozed faintly, and he licked the blood off his finger. "You are no house cat," he murmured as a wicked smile made its way to his lips.