Page 69 of A Sweet Destruction

Well, I sure hoped Elijah included our belongings in the declaration that our horses were not to be harmed.

With them out of the way, that opened up the unavoidable next step—formally meeting the Prince.

Following Bellamy’s lead, with her chin high and shoulders pinched, we all stepped forward to meet the person who would lead this planet for the next generation.

The young prince’s eyes turned shrewd as he took each of us in, though I wasn’t sure if it was pointed observation or arrogance.

His shoulders rolled under a heavy fur draped over them, shining a rich, gleaming brown that made me hope that it was made of synthetic fibers and not skinned off an animal.

Those eyes continued their path over each of us, taking special note where our skin was inked with a black as pure as the day it was pulled out. A little quirk threatened the corner of his mouth, restrained but there.

As observant as he was, I was better.

Eventually, after several drawn out seconds that were certainly intended to assert dominance, the Prince’s eyes drew over to Elijah. “Your descriptions were quite accurate, General,” he said, his accent even posher than the man he addressed. “Particularly the murderous gazes. How exciting!”

Either this near-child was playing up the pompous royal act, or he put the majority of the Vir royals to shame with his attitude. Even Bellamy straightened the barest bit, and she was from a family of some of the worst culprits.

“Prince Caspian,” Bellamy began, her words crisp and clear. I was pretty sure I heard a gasp from the crowd in response. Goodness, I needed to know the messaging these people believed about us. “Thank you for the invitation. I always find conversation to be much more productive than letters.”

“Ah yes,” Caspian responded, “Too much editing in the written word. Can never tell whether it’s the true spirit of the author or something that has been passed through many different hands.”

Ford’s hand brushed mine, and despite the tingling that erupted over my skin, I caught his meaning. This kid is really something.

I smiled despite myself, only managing to stop it before I bared my teeth. Not soon enough, apparently, because the second that grin curved my lips, Caspian’s eyes shot to me.

Looking right over Bellamy’s shoulder, Caspian took a step towards me. “I must say, though I was looking forward to meeting my once-promised bride,” Caspian’s eyes bounced to Bellamy for just a moment, “It is you, dear, that I have been most interested in.”

My mind took off like a racehorse, covering every possibility in his meaning in an attempt to regain my bearings. Even then, my instincts kept me straight, kept my smile in place, as I said, “Why am I here, if not to appease your interest?”

Caspian’s face lit up with an open-mouthed smile full of glee. He clapped his hands together once before tucking them under his chin. “Oh, you’re fun. Come!” He turned away, taking off in a quick stride toward the well-adorned building to our right, with little care to see if we followed.

It was his companions that took on that responsibility, the older woman offering a kind smile and a subtle nod of her chin. Caspian’s guards took a second to watch us, making sure we weren’t about to launch an arrow into his back in revenge, surely. When they were satisfied, they followed their prince.

It was Elijah, of course, who hung back the longest, waiting until Bellamy and Soren had begun to follow to join us. I caught Anya whispering something to him as she passed, and Elijah’s only response was to narrow his eyes slightly. Interesting.

“You might want to look a little less excited,” Ford said, his hand hovering over my low back with all the electricity of an exposed wire. His head had dipped to speak into my ear, his nose pushing through my hair to brush over the upper curve of my ear.

Apparently, my ears were highly sensitive and a surefire way to make me lose all sense, because instead of pulling away like I should have, I simply turned my head towards him, our cheeks all but sliding together. “We’re spies,” I said, my cheek pinching with small smile and brushing against Ford’s growing stubble. “There’s just so much to spy on.”

I felt his answering chuckle down to my very soul, the heady vibration peeling back another layer of the defense I’d so carefully laid. A temple eight years in the making, felled by the tiniest of tremors.

And yet, the Bond or my mind or some combination of the two was pulsing with trust, casting a light on Ford as my solace in this unfamiliar territory. It was survival instinct, surely.

He was still a threat to my livelihood, just less of one. I would do well to remember that.

The Bond’s disbelieving laugh echoed through my head, though it sounded suspiciously like my own.

The crowd parted for Caspian as if he was a ship passing through water, their eyes dropping to the floor in a subtle bow of respect. They softened for the older woman, who’s identity I would be quickly seeking out.

They narrowed on Elijah, some mixture of unease and awe. Expected for a general, the right hand of the Prince himself. I could sense that he felt their attention and didn’t appreciate it, puffing his already well-built chest out even further.

By the time we were inside the building, my head tipping up to marvel at the intricately carved ceiling, the crowd outside had dispersed.

Though the outside of the building had given the impression that this was a place for politics, the inside was bare—save for a table befitting a private restaurant placed in the center of the hall.

It was long, built for banquets and all-night conversations over wine. Wine that was already poured into carafes and laid out to breathe.

The Prince all but ran to the center, pouring himself a quick glass in an opulently decorated goblet, before turning back to us with a flourish. “Sit! This is a time for celebration.”