"Odd?" Atlas croaks. "Odd is how we describe quirky old ladies who knit sweaters for their pets. Thrane is nothing short of a maniac."
He's not wrong.
"Well," I wipe my hands on my apron. "I suppose I'll clean the mess and then make dinner."
Shaye grabs my forearm and grimaces. "I'll help you clean, but I think we should go out for dinner tonight."
For once, I don't argue.
Twenty - Five
Atlas
With my art students dismissed for the night, I begin the cleaning process. I set all their canvases to the side of the room to dry before wiping all easels. Thankfully, my pupils ensure all their art supplies – paint, brushes, smocks – are all neatly organized and packed. One less task for me this evening. Normally I would do a deep clean after the kids' class but tonight, I have a proper date planned with Shaye and I don't intend to disappoint her.
I'll do a quick sweep and that should do it.
The front door slams open. I flick my gaze up at the after-hours intruder and sigh. Ronan invites himself inside, rage written across his face. I half expect Nyx to run in after him, but my cousin is solo this evening which is odd.
"You know what's the most fucked up part of this entire wedding situation?" Ronan barks, prowling toward me, hair disheveled.
"Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable," I drawl, snatching the broom from the closet. "I wasn't doing anything."
"I don't even have a bride, and invitations have been sent to every kingdom!" Ronan ignores my tone and tosses himself into a seat, nearly knocking over the wooden easel in front of him. He grabs it before it hits the ground and apologetically places it right-side up. "I keep getting stopped on the street with people offering me their congratulations. I even had women atPrue'sstaring daggers at me as if to say why not them. Sure, I've had my fair share of bedding women in this city, but they couldn't have assumed I'd marry them." He drags a ringed hand across his face.
His visit won't deter me from finishing my task to get to Shaye, but I can humor him with a conversation while I clean. When I glance up at him, I notice the bags beneath his brown eyes. They're so dark they could be mistaken for light bruising. His cheeks are hollow as well and the concern he's not eating as much as he should be, replacing his meals with drinks atPrue'sconcerns me.
"You don't look well, Rone," I offer as kindly as possible. "How long has it been since you've had a proper night's rest? Or a hearty meal?"
Ronan spies me through his splayed fingers. "Really?" He frowns. "That's your response to everything I've just lamented? I don't look well?"
"Well, you don't."
"I shouldn't have come to you for advice," he groans, frustration ripe in his tone.
"Why did you?" I halt sweeping for a moment to stare at him. It's a genuine question. Ronan doesn't typically come to me with his problems. That honor is reserved for Nyx. Why is he here now?
"What?"
"I've never been in your position," I shrug. "What kind of advice can I offer you?"
Tears well in Ronan's gaze. "You know, I expect this kind of asshole behavior from Nyx. Not you." He spears to his feet, headed straight for the door.
"If it's any consolation," my words bring him to a halt, "I think what you're doing is admirable."
It takes a few seconds, but my cousin slowly turns to face me. A newfound anger marring his features. "I'm not doing anything," he hisses like a wounded animal. "I'm fighting my father every step of the way. I'm not ready to be married."
"Maybe not," I concede. "But are you ready to be king?"
He blinks rapidly, the question throwing him. "Why would I need to be ready to be king? My father is in good health."
I resume my sweeping, unwilling to be here longer than need be. "A war is coming. You think your father is not going to lead his troops to battle once more? Why do you think he's harped on you getting married for the last couple of years? He is preparing you. He is preparing you just in case he doesn't make it home."
Ronan swallows hard, swiping the back of his hand across his cheek. "He should stay here. He's not seen combat since the Great War."
"That is beside the point." I shake my head. "He is our king. He has never sent his people to war and not led them. It's not in his character. Nor is it in yours. But he wants you to be ready. Ready in case you have to take the throne. Having a partner by your side in the grieving and transition time would be invaluable."
"You speak as if my father's fate is sealed," he grits his teeth, leaning his back against the door.
