Page 92 of A Cruel Kindness

I forced myself to smile at the little Royal in front of me, choosing to show her kindness rather than let her young mind misinterpret my sullen expression and think it was something she’d done.

Flora didn’t seem to notice. “I missed you. I want to be like you when I grow up.” A sweet, expected statement from a little girl looking up to a princess.

I folded my legs into a crouch and held her hand. “You don’t need to be like me, Flora.”

“But I want to,” she cried, and my heart ached in return.

“Only if being like me makes you happy in here,” I said, pointing at her heart. It was something I wished someone had told me when I was younger, so I made sure to take the opportunity when presented with a young girl that had at least a one seventh chance of ending up in my position one day.

If the Empire even existed in twenty years.

Flora flung her arms around me a second later, wrapping me in a tight hug. An image, as clear as if I was seeing it with my own eyes, flashed in my mind, of a little girl about Flora’s age, with startling blue eyes and dark hair hugging me in the same way.

I jerked in her hold, momentarily frozen by the image.

I blinked, and thought that little girl materialized in front of me, only to realize that Soren was walking toward me.

As carefully as I could, I extracted myself from Flora’s arms and rose to stand.

She got nervous when she saw Soren walking up, intimidated by his sheer size and force. I felt the same at times.

“Hi, Flora,” Soren said, a secret smile on his face. Flora bounced away in a flurry of ruffles and blushing cheeks.

He was really good at this, and I don’t think he even realized.

Everyone had been fully enraptured with him all night, hanging on every word he said.

Something evidenced by the fact that Ambrose’s father, the head of House Greene walked up to us a second later and snapped, “I’m surprised you have time to take a trip back when we are under such pressure from our enemies.”

Soren paused, letting a few heavy seconds pass by before he answered. It was a subtle show of power, able to pause and consider his words even when someone was verbally attacking him. “We’ve worked hard to develop defenses that could not be felled by the absence of two people, no matter how important they may be.”

I knew there was pride beaming on my face, and I made no move to hide it. I respected that he’d done the work to learn the art of diplomacy and leadership expected from someone in his family instead of just toiling around in his privilege.

“In fact,” I added, letting my own hard-won skill seep in. My mother’s ill-advised comment reminded me of how much weight I’d had to shoulder over the past few years, ensuring that she didn’t destroy fragile relationships with Royals or wealthy families by a poor choice of words. “I think it's rather important that we make trips back. We need to be able to communicate what we’ve seen and bring back messages.” I added a blinding smile for good measure.

Ambrose’s father was notoriously difficult to appease, and yet we seemed to have done just that. He nodded, his lower lip pushing out slightly, before he turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

“Soren,” I said, wondering aloud. “Before you were drafted, what did you want to do?”

He considered me, before answering. “Well, I’d always assumed I’d be an advisor until I eventually took over. Assuming I lived that long.”

NO DYING! The Bond interrupted, while I asked, “And did you think you’d enjoy it?”

Soren chuckled under his breath. “Besides a fair bit of planning murders for those who pissed me off, I guess I would. Why?”

I shook my head, glancing around the room and watching these people interact with each other. “I don’t know. Maybe we should plan more trips back. We are here to deliver peace negotiations. We could help make sure they go smoothly?”

Soren smiled, running his hand down my back. “Bellamy, are you suggesting we actually acknowledge that we’re Royals?”

“I know, how terrible.”

Soren hummed in response, and I was learning that meant he agreed, albeit a little begrudgingly.

That was the last conversation we were able to have for the rest of the party.

I was dragged around by my father to every single eligible man at that party, despite my continued insistence that I was not available for marriage.

Halfway through, I saw Soren’s mother do the same thing to him, and when I saw him talking to the beautiful Devereaux daughter, I ripped my arm from my father’s grasp and approached their conversation, not giving a damn about manners.