The Villianess story: A 100 ways to kill your husband
Chapter 208: Fiery temper

Chapter 208: Fiery temper

The audacity, Abrielle could not believe the nerve he had to act right. "You should have stayed back at Vesper." She scoffed at him.

Cedric’s jaw clenched, she was driving him to the edge. "The time you had to mess with Alfonso was not enough. was it?" He sneered at her. The condescending look in his eyes belittled him.

"There is nothing special between Alfonso and I, we are just friends." Abrielle almost bit her tongue while calling Alfonso her friend. Currently, she does not know where to place Alfonso. He wasn’t an ally or foe, and she was not blind to his actions either.

One thing for sure, she knew Alfonso found a certain amusement in entertaining her and deliberately making everyone misunderstand them. It was frustrating; she knew Cedric was not going to understand her either or believe her.

It is not everyone who can accept the thought of their wife being close to a family member that was at odds with them. She didn’t think anyone would accept it.

"Friends," he drawled disbelief written all over his face. Perfect, she didn’t even bother to deny the rumours and chose to go with them being friends.

"Can you listen to yourself?" He scoffed at her; his pitch was slightly high, causing her heart to skip a beat. Honestly, Cedric was trying his best to hold his rage; he didn’t like the way she shook at his voice.

Abrielle clenched her fist, she was trying her best not to tremble. His eyes shone with rage. "Cedric that is enough," She drew in a deep breath before barking at him. She jolted up from her seat, the chair screeching against the floor.

Cedric was stunned she raised her voice at him. She had never lost her temper before. "That is enough Cedric. Enough of this; I am very tired and I am sure you are also exhausted. Let’s have this conversation another time." She said in a final tone; she walked away from the table and strode off, leaving Cedric in the gazebo.

He hissed at her exit, his jaw clenching. As soon as she was far enough, the air got thicker and heavier as he released a murderous intent that even Elias was shaken inside.

He knew they were going to fight, at least Cedric didn’t hurt the princess. The entire castle was aware of the princess’s predicament; ever since that day, Abrielle was more reserved than normal. She barely spoke and spent her time working in the study or just having tea, recovering slowly, but it seemed like something was eating her up.

The door was slammed hard against the frame, and Abrielle’s face was red with fury. She screamed out her frustration then grabbed her dress rushing up the stairs.

He was insufferable, she hated the fact he acted oblivious when he was the one who didn’t freaking write a letter. The maid shrank, sensing the princess’s anger. It was not every day Abrielle acted destructively.

"Oh my," Zoltana gasped hearing Abrielle’s screams. "What happened?" She asked a maid by her side as she watched Abrielle rush up the stairs. The princess was exasperated.

"I heard the prince is back." The maid replied and Zoltana’s face turned ugly. Cedric was indeed the only person who could make Abrielle more worked up than Alfonso.

Zoltana quickly gave the brush to the maid and rushed up the stairs, heading for the princess’s quarters. Abrielle was pretty good running in heels, Zoltana could not catch up with her until she got to Abrielle’s main chambers.

She did not know what was happening but from the sounds coming from inside. She was sure it wasn’t something good. "Dear goddess, these two will be the death of me." Zoltana sighed reaching out for the door handle.

"Ouch," she winced, her hands jerked off the handle because it was too hot. She was even more worried that Abrielle was doing something crazy there.

Why was the princess so worked out? It was not good for her health. Sensing the urgency, Zoltana pulled off her apron to hold the handle pushing the door open.

Zoltana stood stunned at the door, She had no idea Abrielle had such a fiery temper where had all this fury been hiding

A loud crashing sound echoed as Abrielle pushed down a vase that scattered immediately. It was an antique worth a fortune.

The angrier Abrielle was the hotter the metal surfaces were she was channelling off her magic without knowing. Abrielle screamed out again.

She had been holding back so much for so long the bottle finally exploded. She wanted to rip him apart but she could not. She had destroyed everything she could, and there was nothing left, but her anger was still not quelled.

Her eyes went to the bed; she stomped, moving to the bed, pulling off the covers and just trashing it. Zoltana didn’t stop her and just let her let out the steam. She felt sorry for the maids who were going to clean up this mess.

After trashing the bed, Abrielle’s next target was the mirror; Zoltana knew the sharp shards were going to hurt the princess, so she quickly intervened, stopping Abrielle from throwing a stool at the mirror.

Zoltana grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Please, that’s enough; if you continue, your rage will set the room on fire." Zoltana pleaded with her. Pulling the stool from her hand.

Abrielle placed the stool on the floor. Zoltana was stunned to suddenly hear sobs. She glanced back at the princess and was completely dumbfounded to see Abrielle crying and rubbing her eyes

"I am tired, I don’t want this. I just want to go home." Abrielle cried, Zoltana’s heart squeezed hearing the princess’s words thinking she was talking about her home in Vesper.

"Sorry your Highness, just endure a bit. Your parents will be visiting soon." She tried to console Abrielle. Her persuasions only made Abrielle cry more. She was carrying a heavy burden, and every right move seemed like a bad move.

Worst of all, there was no one she could rely on except herself, which was terrifying. She was an emotionally unstable college girl who wrote novels for fun, trapped in a royal mess. She was not smart enough to tackle this. She just had to bear for now and soon this would be over. She reminded herself.