Was he really planning on filming—
Zane shook his head to shake those thoughts loose and straightened from where he’d been leaning against the large cherry wood desk. Pavel had deposited him in the office on the top level before vanishing back into the hallway. There’d been a first aid kit on one of the shelves, which Zane had gotten, and since then he’d been waiting for his fellow Retinue member’s return.
The office was a decent size, with a wall of bookshelves to the right, and a full-sized couch and sitting area to the left. Therewas also a fireplace tucked into one corner, near the bay window that overlooked the bluffs, and a few potted plants that Zane hadn’t decided on were real or not.
The main focal point of the room, the desk, was kept neat and tidy, with only the built-in strip for the holo-screen computer and a blank area for the keyboard to be projected. Since this wasn’t a place Pavel often visited, Zane doubted there was much interest there. He’d keep all of his important documents pertaining to the club at his penthouse, where it was easily accessible.
Turning to the bookshelves, he began to unapologetically snoop. There was still so much about the other guy that he didn’t know or understand. Even if this marriage was more of a business deal than anything else—at least for him—that didn’t mean Zane wanted to jump into it blindly.
Did he even want to jump into it at all?
For the first time since it’d been suggested to him, Zane found he was able to actually take the time to consider his options and feelings in regard to his situation.
If he accepted Lyra’s “proposal”, for lack of a better way of calling it, he’d be gaining immense power. As the Royal Consort to the Imperial Heir, Zane would bring a wealth of prestige to his family name. Mr. and Mrs. Solace would no doubt praise him, maybe even finally think of him as a real son instead of just the replacement they’d been cornered into taking in.
There was a chance Lyra would still allow him to become the Royal Doctor as she’d said the other night, but just as good of a chance she would refuse. He had no way of knowing how far he could push her into giving him his way if he insisted on continuing his studies. Assuming she did allow it, he could make out with both the position he’d worked so hard for all these years and an even higher one.
But he’d also be stuck with her, in her bed. By her side.
Even after she grew bored and the novelty of taking him when there’d been a chance someone else could wore off.
Zane would be trapped in a loveless, passion-free marriage.
Love he could do without, but the passion part? He refused to put himself in a situation where he’d go unwanted. There was no way his mental health would survive that, and there was no question that Pavel wanted him.
Hell, the man had been desperate enough to kidnap him.
The shelves were organized by the size of the books, and he trailed his gaze across rows and rows of spines, only vaguely registering the titles as he skimmed them. Everything in the space was so well organized, that when his eyes caught onto the sheet of paper sticking out from between two books, it was incredibly noticeable.
Zane had to move up onto his tiptoes to reach it, but he plucked the yellowing page free and stared at it curiously. It was a folded piece of thick construction paper, something he hadn’t seen in a while. There were stains here and there, small brown splotches and watermarks, but when he flipped it open, the inside was kept clean.
At first, the children’s drawing threw him for a loop. There were two boys sitting beneath a large tree with fire-orange leaves. They were better than stick figure drawings, but not by much, both with crudely drawn mops of hair, one in brown, the other in black.
He was in the process of wondering why Pavel would have something like this when he moved his thumb on the page and inadvertently exposed the names that had been scrawled there in messy child writing.
Pavel and Zane Hart.
Zane reread the line over and over again, blinking in confusion. PavelandZaneHart?
A vague memory from the other night flittered to the forefront of his mind and his frown deepened. Hadn’t Pavel called him that? At the time, Zane had been a bit too caught up in everything else to really pay it any notice, but now…
“You weren’t meant to find that so soon,” Pavel’s voice suddenly sounded from the doorway, and Zane spun to find him standing there, watching him with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes not lit up in the slightest, further preventing Zane from guessing his mood.
He’d removed the wet clothing and had changed into a different pair of sleepwear, and if Zane weren’t so invested in playing detective right now, he might have been miffed he’d been left here in his damp pajamas while the other guy changed without him.
As it were…
“What is this?” He held up the drawing.
Pavel sighed. “What’s it look like, Doctor? Just because you can’t remember drawing it, doesn’t mean you should act the fool. You lost your memories, not your common sense.”
“I drew this?” He stared back at the colorful marks on the page with pursed lips. Art had never been his strong suit, but he couldn’t recall there ever being a time when he wasn’t aware of that fact. Drawing was not a pastime of his.
“The day before the Solace family came and took you away,” Pavel confirmed, “yes.”
“Why did I give myself your last name?” He pointed to it.
“Because it was never my last name,” he replied. “It was ours.”
