The Princess's Dangerous Vampire Mate-Chapter 143: Defining her - III

"This," he pointed to the person inside the mirror, "is you. And only you have the power to make yourself better."

I stepped into the mirror and his words were heard by me but I did not acknowledge them. In front of me was a woman who had red eyes, cheeks and nose. Snot was running down her nose making it appear as if she had wiped it continuously, yet it was there. Then were the tears that ran wildly on my cheeks and had left dried marks along with wet ones that had been recent. Then came my hair which was sticking out in various places.

I looked worse than I did when I had lost my mother and the grief I felt was truly and comparable. Right now I said that that grief had been exceeded.

I touched my cheeks, it was slightly wet and I felt more sad. "I was never like this." I thought about the times when I could have, but I had been stronger.

"I know."

My eyes drifted to the man who was holding the mirror out to me.

"I know." He repeated more family and I believed him.

He was still here with me and had not left me when he could have done it very easily. His support now mattered.

"I don’t understand . . " I looked into the mirror once more, "I am not her Tristan yet I feel the same as she looks like. I don’t want to look like that." I choked in the middle of the words as the image in front of me haunted me. I was not her!

"She’s so. ."

"Say it, my love. Say it."

It gave me courage to say the daunting words.

"She looks like she lost." I murmured, staring into the mirror. "She looks like she lost everything and I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to lose!"

"I don’t want to be broken." I told him as I looked at him, "I Don’t want to be broken! I was stronger than this." He didn’t say anything, "I truly was. . " I murmured to myself more and sniffed as I felt like crying again.

This was the worst I had ever seen myself be. It was the worst and I did not want that for myself but I felt like it.

Merylin.

She had taken the place of my mother slightly, she would have told me what to do. She would have been there for me, taking my hand and guiding me on what to do, reminding me of who I was.

Tristan lowered the mirror and I looked at him again who had leaned back to place it back on the table.

He smiled before taking out a handkerchief from his pockets and bringing it to my face.

"It takes courage," he wiped my cheeks, "admit that you look and feel worse than you ever have." He said and made me blow my nose.

Bless my governess. She would have died on the spot.

"And it takes more courage to realise that you are stronger than what you become." I sniffed and smiled slightly.

"I’m strong?" I whispered and he shook his head.

"I know the answer to that but I would never tell you that." He pinched my cheek slightly, " it is your decision on how strong you want to appear and be in front of others. The opinion of the other person stands nowhere."

Did it? "I looked so bad Tristan," I told me and my lip trembled again, my eyes watered and it got blurry, "I have never felt like that. Like this."

He took a hold of my hand in his. "Cry as much as you want now, Genevieve. Do you know why I brought you to the dungeons?" He asked with a small smile and I shook my head.

His smile widened, " Two reasons." He said as he showed me his index finger along with the middle one. "The second one I shall tell you later on but for the first. It is kind of ironical," he huffed, "it is bad one, but here it is, dungeons are the lowest level of the palace and I thought since you felt at your lowest this was the right place for you to feel that for the last time because when you leave this room I want you to feel better and powerful again."

I want to laugh at his words. Such wishful thinking for someone like me, someone like me who had no future with anyone. True the dungeons were at the lowest level of the palace and true I was at the lowest level of myself. The lowest level that seemed like I could never get out of.

"I have nothing to feel powerful for!" What was he talking about! "I am not a virgin anymore. My family did not ask about me. My father gave me away on a man’s rumour. It did not fight for me. What else do I have left?"

"Me." He said with a serious expression on his face. "Me, Genevieve. You have me."

Never have I thought that a single word would render me speechless and thoughtless.

He must have been out of his mind. "You want a—"

"Yes," he did not let me finish the sentence, "yes I want a woman that is my Genevieve. I want you and only you. And I do not care what has happened to you or who stands with you or who does not. I want you." His voice was never more firm and the determination in his eyes was truly fascinating.

I gulped and lowered my head. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I did not know what to say.

"And I did not sign up for a weak woman either," my eyes snapped back to him who looked furious, "which is why the old Genevieve would have to leave and a stronger one would have to take her place."