Page 80 of A Sweet Destruction

Bellamy paused to take a sip of her drink, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt my throat seize up with tears, rendering me silent. “Soren and I have spoken about this a lot, especially about the difference between our bond and the one he had with Carson. The Bond may not control you like some brain-eating parasite, but it is a part of you. A large part. In repressing it, I’m sure you hid more of yourself than you realized.” She nudged my knee in a casual show of affection. “Even kept yourself so far away Ford couldn’t know you, then love you. Even after so long.”

And for some reason, the only thing that came to mind to say was, “I never said I was concerned with Ford loving me.”

Even as I said it, I heard the lie.

“Th-thank you,” I followed with quickly, suddenly horrified at the prospect of Bellamy thinking I was dismissing her. “I think I’m just confused and tired and—”

I cut myself off with a shake of my head, well-timed with Ford popping around a corner. At the first sight of him, I felt my body relax, then melt further in a way that made me crave physical affection.

I wanted a hug. From him.

It was so simple and so horrible, tears sprung to my eyes immediately.

Though I knew running from him was the wrong thing to do, especially after the events of the day, staying was worse. I was too raw to do anything but unleash on him.

It would probably break my heart further to go to him, to have him give me affection, and then suffer through him pulling away if it was too much for him.

I shot Bellamy a desperate look, begging her to step in. The second her chin started to dip down in assent, I was out of there, right in time for the first tear to fall.

✦

I was, admittedly, slightly tipsy.

Some might call it drunk.

I would say they were being annoying.

God forbid, I let loose a little bit. I wasn’t the type to turn to drink to soothe my pains, but sue me.

Ford was still mad, in an oppressive way that made me feel hot all over. I barely remembered what we discussed at dinner, an in-depth conversation about the Vir government and the shift of power to new hands every seven years.

Information that had been embedded in my mind for as long as I could remember.

It was important that Caspian understood that system and how Bellamy and Soren were planning on integrating that into the treaty.

The whole system would fall apart if the next family to take power just decided not to listen to it.

Bellamy stayed silent on the fact that the change of power was a big if. Her father wanted to keep it. Her and Soren had a really good argument for holding power until things settled down, even if it made her uncomfortable.

She had floated the prospect of Ambrose—or another equally qualified and Match-less royal—offering for the Princess’s hand in marriage.

“Absolutely not,” Elijah had responded. As if he had the authority to speak on behalf of the entire family.

Clearly, he did not, as Caspian’s voice was full of rarely-evoked authority as he said, “The Princess is barely of marriageable age. That would have to be a much longer discussion.”

“If you’re still looking for a bride,” Soren said, none too kindly, “There are a few younger royals who might be a suitable match. Once you both become actual adults, that is.”

To Caspian’s credit, he simply laughed in the face of that dig. “Rest assured, Soren. I have no interest in marrying your paranima.”

“Do you have one? Elijah said you didn’t,” Freya said. The air at the table went taut for a second. We’d never really met anyone from Muli who wasn’t obviously Matched.

I wasn’t sure if it was rude to ask, especially considering that Caspian didn’t have a visible Mark.

No one in the royal family did, for that matter—Elijah included.

“No,” Caspian said. “We don’t show our Marks until a Match has been located. Whoever they are, they haven’t revealed themselves yet.”

“How does that happen?” Freya seemed genuinely interested, which helped matters. Even then, I could see Bellamy tensing.