“I know there's stuff you all haven’t told me yet. And honestly, I’m thankful that you all waited, but I’m ready to hear whatever it is you need to tell me.”
I scoffed, accepting my glass back from his outstretched hand, his bulging veins drawing me in. He may have been ready to hear it all, but sharing it was a whole other story. I had no doubts in my mind that he could handle it all, and regardless, I wouldn’t keep the information from him. I wouldn’t do what he did to me.
“You want to do this now?” I asked as a raging shooting star shot through the night sky.
“Yes. If you are willing.”
I turned to him, allowing him to see the darkness that laid upon my face. “I’ll give you the basics, but the details will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m already too tipsy for this.”
He let a grin slip free. “Deal. Let me have it.”
I drew in a deep breath, and on the exhale of my words, I watched his mind be blown. “Venay told me that there was in fact another journal written by your mother. She knew this because they were friends growing up, and Venay enchanted the book for her. She made it impossible to destroy and impossible to be opened by anyone other than you and your father. We were hopeful that if we could find it, there would be something written about how to help you, so Venay agreed to undo the enchantment if we found the journal. That was the original plan, but after some digging we had no idea where it could be. Instead, Venay performed some kind of dark magic ritual with Kohen, during which she located the journal.” I sucked in another harsh breath before continuing. “Turns out the fucking book was in Draemor of all places. How did it get there? Don’t ask because I still don’t know.”
Sebastian’s body turned statue-like, but he let me ramble on.
“Anyways, we came up with a plan to find the journal while saving you. When we got back and you were stable, Venay undid the enchantment so we could start reading while you were healing and she seemed insistent on wanting to help. None of us ended up looking through the journal yet, though. The more we thought about it, we figured it would be best if you got to first. Oh, also apparently Beaumont is creating some kind of mutant magic-wielding creatures and keeping them in a secluded area of Draemor’s dungeon. Also, he told me that those who have markings like mine are considered gods in the eyes of some. ButI’m pretty sure that’s just a load of crap he fed me to freak me out, which it did.” I tapped a finger to my chin, then finished with a diminished breath, “I think that’s it.”
He didn’t flinch. He just stared at me wide-eyed, blinking ever so slowly.
“That’s it?That’sthe basics?” he scoffed, repeating my words back to me. His dark curls shook with his denial. “Where’s the journal now?”
“Sawyer has it.”
“And these creatures?”
“Leighton can explain that. She knows more than I do. Do you remember seeing it in the dungeon?”
“Now that you mention it, a little, yeah. I wasn’t sure if it was real or something my mind made up. I even thought I may have dreamt it. And I saw the journal in the bookcase in Beaumont’s study right before he brought me to the dungeons.” Sebastian stumbled back, falling onto an empty bench. He looked as though he had just uncovered a life-changing revelation with the way his face dawned an expression of disbelief.
With a swirl of the liquid, I passed him my glass. “You definitely need this more than I do.”
He took a heavy handed swig, then placed the glass beside him on the bench. “I wonder what it’s like to be normal. To lead a semi-standard life.”
I snorted. “You and me both.”
“Like, not even normal in the sense that I wasn’t gifted, but more so if I was never a prince. If I had a typical family—a living mother and a father who actually cared about me.”
“Well damn, Sebastian. This is supposed to be a celebration.” I took a seat beside him, ensuring to keep some space between our bodies.
He laughed. “I’m not in my feelings or anything, I’m just saying. Things have never been status quo in my life, and I just wonder what it’s like.”
“Probably boring. Isn’t this way more fun? Spending each day wondering if we’ll live to see another? I’ve spent more time planning my own funeral than my wedding.”
“Well damn, Maeve. This is supposed to be a celebration.”
Our gazes locked in tune with our laughter, though the lines in the corner of his eyes fell flat.
“You good?” I raised a brow.
“Yeah. I just…I dunno.”
“What?” I pried, subconsciously stretching my fingers into the space separating us.
His neck bent towards his lap as he ran a finger over a new scar on the back of his hand. “It’s just nice…talking to you like this. Like we used to.”
“You mean having a serious discussion at an inappropriate time?”
He let a small huff of laughter free. “We do tend to do that, don’t we?”
