*Tristan*
Leaving my carriage near the dressmaker’s, I stride with purpose down the street. I need a sweet, a nice, hard, sugary sweet. I can’t recall the last time I had such a craving. I want something to make me feel good instead of like a rotten bastard.
Whatever had overcome me to pressure the dressmaker as he had? It was Eve, dammit all. The look of mortification and a wish for death that had crossed her face when she realized that an inconsequential shop owner had determined her purpose in my life … and disapproved of it. Who is this woman to disapprove of anything I do?
I am providing Eve with a sanctuary. Yes, she has to pay a price for it, but then nothing in life comes for free. Not even freedom. It is the highest price of all.
To make matters worse, I had fallen back on my
