But guilt and fear are only going to get my loved ones killed, and I will not let them down. So, I’m compartmentalizinghard.
A good night’s sleep is exactly what I need to start thinking about solutions. Unfortunately, I only managed a few hours, so for now, I’ve settled on ‘take down the Council from within.’
That’s it. That’s the plan.
Totally doable.
It’s not like much wiser people have already tried to do just that for thousands of years. But if there’s anything romantasy novels have taught me, it’s that clearly, only twenty-something-year-olds are fit for the impossible.
It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll come up with the details later today. I probably just need to draw up a mind-map or something (delusion is my friend). But no amount of delusion is going to save me from having to enter Leon’s room.
I’ve already moved the wardrobe, but I haven’t been able to make myself open the door.
Can we bring back chamber pots?
Taking a deep inhale, I double-check that the mate bond connection between Sin and me is still firmly shut. I haven’t felt anything from it this morning, but I need to be sure.
Luckily, the curtains are still tightly shut, and I swallow nervously before knocking on the adjoining door.
Nothing happens. Maybe this is my lucky day, and Leon’s already left to go do something else.
Or maybe I need to stop having foolish inclinations like hope. Because of course, the moment I step into his room, I find him standing by a dresser, wearing nothingbut a towel. He’s clearly just had a shower, as evidenced by the water droplets still clinging to his skin.
My gaze immediately drops to the floor, and I try to hide my annoyance. He definitely heard me knock. He wanted me to find him like this.
“Good morning, pet,” he croons as he strides over to me with the overconfidence only truly mastered by mediocre men.
“Morning,” I mutter, trying to sound groggy.
The bathroom is next to his bed. More of my hope deflates. I was hoping to dash inside and avoid him, but the last thing I need is for Leon to chase me, only a couple of feet from a bed.
Time for plan B (there is no plan B).
Time to wing it.
Leon lifts his hand like he’s about to stroke my face.
“BATHROOM!” I exclaim.
He stills, looking mildly confused.
“I need to use the bathroom. Really badly.” I bounce on my heels for added effect.
He frowns, reluctantly lowering his hand. “Go ahead, I’ll wait for you.”
Not needing to be told twice, I hustle to the bathroom but pause at the threshold to make sure I’m not being followed. Dread curls in my stomach when I find Leon watching me with a heated stare. I wouldn’t put it past him to waltz inside while I’m in a vulnerable position. I need to get his mind out of the gutter.
“I need to poop,” I deadpan, hoping it’s enough of a turn-off.
He looks less than impressed with my oversharing, but doesn’t move. I turn it up a notch.
“It’s uhm, it’s not going to be pretty.” I pat my stomach. “I’d really rather you weren’t around to listen. I’m so embarrassed,” I finish, my cheeks flushing.
It takes a heroic effort on my part to keep a straight face at his answering look of shock and disgust.
He staggers back a step. “You will bathe when you are finished.” The command comes through the mental leash as he grabs his clothes and all but runs from the room.
The rest of the morning goes by in a panicked blur. There’s no lady’s maid sent to help me, and I’m grateful. I can’t be responsible for more deaths.
