He turns and moves in this direction, and I hold my breath, only to release it silently when he goes over to the bar in the corner, makes himself a drink, and starts to pace in the dark. I have no idea how I’m going to get out of here without being detected. It’s not possible. He shut the door behind him. I’m stuck in here.
And while that should concern me most, right now his expression is holding me captive. He’s tormented. Agony stretches along the lines of his face as he combs his fingers through his hair. He takes a hearty swallow of whiskey, only to tip his head back and swallow the rest of it. He sets the glassdown on the bar with a loud clink and refills it before he returns to the window.
I don’t know how long he stands there. Minutes. Hours. Every breath feels interminable. My heart is in my throat, and I have no clue what to do.
He turns around, and I hold still as his eyes glide right past me. Somehow, he doesn’t see me as he heads over to a large chair in front of the fireplace. The king puts his head in his hand and sits in the dark as the storm rages outside the window. A moment later, there’s a tap at the door, and the king calls out in French, for whomever it is to come in.
The door opens, and Bellamy enters. She doesn’t search around the room. She knows exactly where he is, and he sits up, twisting to her.
“What are you doing up?” she questions, hovering by the door.
“Nothing, baby. Go back to bed.”
“I can’t,” she tells him. “The storm is loud, and the bed is cold without you in it. What’s wrong?”
She turns on a lamp, walks over to him, and climbs straight onto his lap. He gratefully takes her there, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck.
Her hands rake through his hair, and she kisses him.
He emits a peaceful sigh, and I feel wrong witnessing their intimate moment. Still, I can’t help but envy what they have. Their love. How sweet and tender he is with her. Bellamy is magic, a balm, and even though she’s a year younger than I am, I want to be her when I grow up. Spending time with her, seeing what they have, what’s possible, it’s changed core parts of me. Parts I don’t want changed back.
“How are my growing babies?” he asks instead of answering her.
“Moving.” She takes his hand and places it on her belly, and a hearty chuckle flees his lips.
He leans in and kisses her. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you. Now talk to me, Your Majesty. What are you hiding? We said we wouldn’t do this again.”
I hate being in here. I hate listening to their conversation. It’s not right.
Bellamy left the door partially ajar, but if I move and open the door more, I’ll be spotted for sure. Still, I have to try. The longer I’m in here, the greater the risk they’ll see me. Especially now that the lamp is on. I’m not well concealed, and if she or he got up and came in this direction, they’d see me for sure.
I push myself up onto my hands and knees and crawl like a cat out from under the table when the king’s words make me stop mid-movement.
“We have some movement on Marie,” he says.
“Marie?” she questions.
“Yes,” he replies, his hand rubbing her belly. “We received intel late this evening that she broke into a home in a small village in France.”
Bellamy gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh my god. Sebastian, are you sure?”
He kisses her neck. “Yes. Her fingerprints match.”
“That’s what had you and Rowan in here until it was time to put the children down.”
“Yes. I believe Rowan is planning to leave in the morning to go see what’s going on.”
“Is Desta with her?”
Desta? And Marie? Holy motherfucking shit. Marie!
My jaw drops, and I gape. They’re chasing Marie. I can’t believe it. How do they know she was the one who took Desta?
Sebastian shakes his head, then shrugs. “We know nothing at this point. We’ve been quietly working with governmental agencies, and a set of fingerprints collected following the break-in triggered an alert.”
“Wow. Do you think she knows we’re chasing her?”
