She nods softly. “I still am. But you’re not just fighting for you. You’re fighting for everyone who loves you. And I promise you it’s worth it.”
My fucking heart cracks like the goddamned Grand Canyon.
“Thank you for sharing that with me, Rhys.” Bellamy lays her head on my shoulder as we head back to Lilihill house. “You really mean something to those kids.”
“Those kids mean something to me.” I wrap an arm around her and pull my ringing phone from my pocket.
Atticus
Mayday. Mayday. Mrs. Smythe just asked me if you’re planning to stay in Lilihill or move to Rosenhall Palace.
“Shit.”
“Is everything okay?” Bellamy glances quickly down at my phone, and I watch as she nibbles her lip. “Are we moving?”
“We, huh?” My fingers run through her soft hair and tug. “I like thewe.”
She looks toward the front of the car, like she’s worrying about being overheard. “Well, I’m pretty sureweare awenow, wouldn’t you say?”
“We are most definitely awe, love. And unfortunately, we’re expected to move into the palace...Fuck,” I groan. “I never wanted to move into Rosenhall. Knowing what’s expected and doing it are two very different things.”
“You’re the king. Can people really tell you what to do?”
“It’s a give and take. A balancing act, if you will.” Not that I’ve ever done well with being told what to do. But part of being a fucking adult is doing things you don’t want to do. “Some of the best advice I’ve ever received was when my mother told me that one day, I’d have to decide what battles were worth going to war over. This... this isn’t worth it.”
She looks up at me through those damn long lashes. The ones that can bring me to my knees. “What’s worth it?”
“Isn’t it obvious, little bee? You... you’re worth it.”
Bellamy
Iflip my phone over and over in my hand as I watch Atticus, Silas, Joss, and Rhys planning out the rest of the week. They’re talking about moving and photo opsand possible interviews. I can’t decide how much of this shit show is because Rhys married me and how much would have been a mess no matter what.
My phone weighs a thousand pounds as I debate walking out of the room and biting the bullet. It’s what I should do. My mom would understand. She’d be shocked. But she’d be happy for me. At least, if we stick to the wholewe’re madly in lovestory the rest of the world has to believe.
Have I mentioned I’m not a very good liar?
Shit... Am I seriously having a conversation with myself?
And answering myself?
Either way, Mom will be the easy one. Cross and Ares... There’s no way they’re going to buy that story.
“Does that sound good to you, bee?” Rhys asks from the other side of the room, and my head snaps up, and my phone falls to the floor.
“Sorry. Was I supposed to be following the conversation? I assumed since no one was actually talking to me, you didn’t really care what I thought.”Oh damn. I’m not even sure where that came from.
Rhys bends down and picks up my phone. “I’m sorry, love. I just want to make sure you’re protected.”
“Listen up, queen bee...” Atticus moves in front of us. “If you want to be involved in a conversation, get involved. If you want to sit by and let everything be decided for you, keep sitting quietly on the side of the room, and that’s what we’ll do. You’re a queen now, Bellamy. It’s time to start acting like it.”
My breath shutters in my chest, coming in sharp, ragged breaths, and I force myself up to my feet since everyone else is already standing. “Fine. You want me to get involved?” I look between my new husband and his brother, blowing right past Joss and Silas. “I’m involved. I don’t want to do a sit-down interview. I’m not a very good liar, and if I have to go on cameraand try to do it... Let’s just say that won’t be good. So I’m more Team Written Statement. I promise to work on the face-to-face thing, but you’re all going to have to give me time.”
“What else?” Rhys pushes with a cocky grin like he just won an argument.
“I want time to talk to my family before we announce it to the world, so can we hold off for another day or two?” My mind spins when suddenly everything starts getting a little too real. How messed up is that? Sitting in a centuries old room telling a high council was less scary than the thought of telling my brothers I’m married.
“Done. We’ll put out a statement in two days. That gives us tomorrow to talk to your family and, unfortunately, my father.” A muscle ticks in Rhys’s jaw, and I make a mental note to find out what I need to know about my future father-in-law.
