Page 90 of Twisted Bonds
She looks to Bobble as if entreating him for help. “A long walk.”
I almost laugh at how unhelpful he is, either not understanding what she needs from him or not knowing how to help. His blank stare falls on his hands, now pressed gently against the tabletop.
Sunder, as always, can only be bothered to grunt at them. “It was really fun, actually. The people didn’t really know what to make of me and Bobble, of course. Some were nice, others not so much. But that’s been the case everywhere we go. They seemed… happy.”
Sunder sits up straighter now, listening finally. “These are good people. Hardworking. They know how to put on a brave face.”
Mira nods, taking a measured seat next to him and grabbing his hand on top of the table. My stomach knots and I avert my gaze.
“They have a parliament here, you know? Nobles even have the power to remove the king if they want.”
Sunder face twists in a scowl. “I doubt he’d comply if they chose to exercise that supposed right.”
Bobble shrugs with some noncommittal words, slinking into his chair. The three of them exchange looks like they’ve created their own language between them. How can I ever compete with that? With the amount of time she’s had alone with each of them?
I should probably just leave them to it. They clearly make her happy. When she looks at Bobble she practically glows. A sigh escapes my chest as dark thoughts percolate and brew inside me.
“What’s with the storm cloud over here?” Sunder asks, pulling me out of my reverie. Only then do I realize he’s talking about me. The lines around his eyes crinkle into a grimace as we make eye contact. I want to pounce, tap into our ancestral beasts and rip his throat out.
I’ve never had these kinds of primal urges before, the animalistic and violent edge. Books, reading, study. Those things are calm, easy. Talking to these people, especially Sunder, is taxing to the small shred of patience I now wear.
My fist slams into the table. Mira and Bobble both jump with surprise, but I don’t care. “Why is everything out of your mouth so vile?”
Sunder snarls, displaying his sharp canines in a clear threat. His chestnut eyes smolder with contained rage. “I speak my mind, unlike some.”
My heart twists with bitter jealousy and hatred. “Maybe that’s the problem,” I shoot back, pouring all my frustrations into the words. “Your mind isn’t always the best place to draw speech from.”
The tense silence between Sunder and me hangs heavily in the room, charged with anger and resentment. I can practically feel the sparks flying between us. Mira is the one who breaks it. Her voice, when it comes, is soft but firm. “Do we have to do this right now? I’m so tired of you guys fighting. We’re on the same side here.”
Her eyes flick between Sunder and me, pleading for calm. Sunder clenches his jaw, looking just as frustrated as I feel.
“Fine,” he grumbles out, crossing his muscular arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. He gives me a sidelong glare, but stays silent.
I rub my temples, trying to ward off the impending headache. My gaze drifts to Mira, who is now perched at the edge of her seat, tension etched into the fine lines of her face. All the fun energy drains from her posture, and a twist of guilt spins inside me. I didn’t mean to ruin her good mood.
“Mira…” I start, but my voice trails off. She’s already turning to me, hazel eyes brimming with a mix of hope and exasperation. Her lips form a thin line, her eyebrows furrowing together in a clear sign of her annoyance. Yet, there’s a softness to her that wrecks me every time. Finally, I just shake my head, as if to say never mind, retreating back into my dark thoughts.
She opens her mouth to respond as the door to the study finally opens.
King Cor’than, in all his regal attire, steps into the room with four guards flanking him. Without a word, he takes a seat at the table while two guards stand behind him. The other two station themselves on opposing corners of the room.
“As you know, I sent some scouts to verify the parts of your story that we can. Two of them have returned already with news, but we’re going to wait for more to corroborate the story before any actions are taken.”
No preamble or small talk. His posture is formal and poised. His eyes are like piercing icicles, searching each of ours for a reaction. Neither Sunder nor I offer any, but we share a look of understanding. We are on the same side, no matter how we feel about each other.
“The tales of your experience,” the word seems to stick to the roof of his mouth like a taste he’d rather forget, “at Yurghen’s little hideout seems to have spread to some nearby towns through escaped servants.”
Cor’than takes a deep breath before setting his thin crown atop the table and running his hands down his face in a decidedly informal gesture, his shoulders falling like wilted flowers as he lets out a heavy sigh.
“Master Yurghen was once a very prominent part of royal society in generations past, as you may remember.” He glances at Sunder.
Interesting.
So I guess he truly believes who we are. Sunder reveals nothing, his face remaining impassive.
Cor’than lets out a guffaw. “No, of course you don’t. Never did pay attention to the history lessons. Too busy looking for duels with smaller kids who you could stomp into the ground.”
Sunder leans forward, eyes narrowing, but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. I don’t miss the way his knuckles turn white on the edge of the table. Cor’than rolls his eyes with a sigh. “He was a well-respected advisor of types to all the royal families in all the kingdoms of Illuemera. He would guide the youths in finding their bonded mate, to consolidate the power of the High Fae blood and all that nonsense.”