“So sure.”
He nods and follows the two alphas helping to herd Court out the door.
“Try to get some more sleep, killer,” Thayer says, leaning in to brush a kiss over my cheek. “You’re going to need it.”
Before I can question why exactly that’s the case, he’s off the bed and out the door. I look up at the prince, lingering near me, like he’s reluctant to leave.
“If this wasn’t necessary,cor mea…”
I nod and pinch the fabric of the blanket between my fingers. “I know. I understand. You’ve been telling me your duty comes first, and I know that hasn’t been the case recently.”
He lets out a low growl before bending at the waist, cupping my jaw so I can’t look away from him. “I want to be clear. Whatwe’re doing today has nothing to do with my duty to the crown and everything to do withyou.It's necessary for us to be able to move forward with you as a pack. Otherwise I would never leave you, yeah?”
I want to believe him but can’t fully shake the importance of his duty to his country. And if I feel the weight of that, surely he does too.
“Florence,” he growls when I don’t immediately agree.
“Fine. Yes. I believe you.” But I’m not sure I do.
And he can see it too.
He leans forward with a sigh. “We’ll be back this evening. Try to relax as much as you can today. Thayer’s right that you’re going to need it.” His lips meet my forehead and then he’s stepping back, keeping his eyes on me as he leaves me alone.
I stay in bed for another hour, dozing but not really sleeping.
But when I hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, I can’t stay in bed.
They told me that they wouldn’t be back until this evening. So if one of my pack is here, something must have gone wrong during whatever it was that they were doing.
If we were bonded, I’d already be able to feel them, to know if they’re upset or just annoyed.
But we haven’t taken that step. I’m honestly not sure if I’m ready, even though my omega has been making a stink about it for days. Weeks. Ever since I woke up in the pool house sandwiched between Court and Piers.
I roll out of bed and don’t bother to check my appearance before hurrying out of my bedroom.
I draw up short when I enter the living room, fear cascading through me, which is ridiculous given that the person I find perched primly on the edge of the sofa is an eighty-year-old woman clutching the head of her cane in both hands.
She eyes me like a bug to be squashed as I dip into a polite curtsey, but nothing too deep. She doesn’t deserve that amount of respect.
“Your Majesty,” I say, keeping my voice even and polite. “How can I help you?”
The queen runs her eyes over me and I am acutely aware of how improper my outfit is. Cotton sleeping shorts, a bralette, and a shirt of Grieves’ so old and worn it feels like butter against my skin. Of course, it is only nine in the morning and I’m just getting out of bed, so I don’t see why it should be a problem.
But I suppose she’s been up since five and had a slew of servants help her dress before she set foot outside of her room. It would only be proper. The queen can’t be seen bleary-eyed and comfortable now can she?
“I would like to know what it would take,” she says.
“I’m not sure what you mean… Your majesty.” I do know what she means, but I’m not going to make this easy on her. Fuck that. I will Elizabeth Bennet this Lady Katherine De Bourgh bitch until I am blue in the face.
“Come now, girl, don’t be dense. What will it take to get you to leave, and to ensure you never darken our door again?”
The smile I give her is tight with anger. “My name is Florence, not ‘girl’. And there isn’t anything you could offer me that would make me simply give up my fated mates.”
“No?” She doesn’t sound convinced.
“No.” I shrug and fold my arms over my chest, dropping the illusion of deference I’d pulled on. “As long as they want me here, as long as there is a chance for us to stay together, for us to bond, I’m not going anywhere.”
She runs a calculating gaze over me, like she’s tallying up what she sees and is reaching her own conclusions about what I value.
