Her internal debate must have shown on her face.
“There’s nothing to think about,” Trystan said, losing some of his patience. “I’m not asking.”
“You never do,” she countered.
He was silent for a moment, and she grew uncomfortable under his stare.
“Would it have made a difference?” he asked softly.
“What?” Even knowing that going down this road couldn’t be good, she took the bait. She couldn’t help it. Trystan was a mystery, and she hated those.
“If I’d shown up on Earth and requested you return with me,” he explained, “would you have had a different reaction?”
“You mean, if you’d arrived and told me point-blank that you planned on attacking the planet unless I came along, would I have done so willingly?”
“All right,” he said, “that is more than likely how it would have gone, so, yes. My point, however, is that if I had asked you, Delaney, would I have gotten what I wanted? Or would you have hated me then as much as you hate me now?”
She didn’t want to answer because she’d walked right into that one. Instead she latched on to the end of his statement and hoped she could distract him.
“You don’t sound all that bent out of shape about my hating you,” she stated. “Probably means that you’re not as invested as you believe you are. Tell you what: Let’s just call this now, save us both the future trouble, and—”
“Are we still playing this game?” Any of the ease he’d been feeling a moment prior vanished. “Do you really think you can manipulate me into letting you go?”
“Of course not.” She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Then why do you insist—”
This time she was the one to cut him off.
“Because!” She shoved off the wall so quickly that some of the liquid from the mug sloshed over the rim and onto her hand. She only partially registered the heat. “I’m trying to cope here! You can’t just take someone to another planet, tell them you’re going to force them to marry you, and call it a day! I am freaking out!”
The air rushed out of her all at once, and she finally dropped down into the empty chair across from him. She set the mug on the table to keep from spilling it further, and then closed her eyes to try to get ahold on her racing heart.
Having a meltdown in front of him had not been on the agenda. It’d been easier before, when she’d been pretending to be Olena, because at least when she’d screwed up, she could blame it on the Lissa. Now?
She was here on this planet as herself. There was nothing to hide behind. No false face, or false identity.
“You’ve been here before,” Trystan said after a moment. “Xenith is hardly unknown to you.”
“Ruckus brought me here by accident,” she reminded him. “It was a mistake, and he spent the whole time trying to fix it. You kidnapped me on purpose. You knowingly took me from my home, away from my friends. I. Hate. You. And you don’t even care.”
Trystan slowly got to his feet, carefully placing his mug back on the table. When he turned again, his expression was stony.
“You’re afraid of me,” he said calmly. “Fear and hatred are not the same emotion. You can get over the first, and you will.”
“Wow.” There really wasn’t more she could say than that.
His big comeback was that she would get over it. Like she’d been stood up on a blind date or someone had spilled punch down the front of her prom dress.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she told him, holding up a finger when he opened his mouth to argue. “I’m not. I’m afraid of the things you might do, yes. But of you personally? What’s to be afraid of? Is it the scared little boy who’d rather steal someone else’s toy than fix his own broken one?”
She’d totally just referred to herself as a toy, but she didn’t bother backtracking. She was on a roll, safety be damned.
“Taking away someone’s free will so you can avoid an unwanted marriage? Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Tell me, what is up with you egotistical alien princes and princesses? You don’t like the fact that Mommy and Daddy set you up to be married, so you have to go and screw up everyone else’s lives? You are just like Olena. Worse, in fact, because you did this to me already knowing what she put me through!”
His jaw tightened, but then he cocked his head to listen to a communication through his fitting. Less than a heartbeat later he took a deliberate step back and met her gaze with a smoldering glare.
“We’ll finish talking about this later,” he said.
Trystan headed across the room without a second glance, reaching for the door.
Delaney opened her mouth to call him back but caught herself. What exactly would she say? Please don’t leave me here? She certainly wouldn’t apologize for the things she’d said, no matter how stupid it’d been for her to say them.
People hated Olena because she was vapid and self-centered. But those traits made her the less dangerous of the two royals, and Delaney had allowed herself to forget that.
Trystan? His intelligence made him deadly.
Delaney groaned and dropped her head into her hands. The sound of her sobs echoing throughout the spacious room should have made her snap out of it and try to maintain some dignity.
It only made her cry harder.
CHAPTER 6
It didn’t matter what she thought about him. Thoughts changed. Why let it put him in a bad mood?
With a quiet curse, Trystan stormed down the long hallway toward one of the conference rooms. He’d set a few of them up around the palace as soon as he’d taken over. It made conversations with home easier, not that he was particularly looking forward to speaking with his father. Just the idea made him grind his teeth.
If it’d been anyone else, he could have put it off, using what had happened at the ceremony as an excuse. Unfortunately, the only person in the entire universe capable of yanking his chain was the one to interrupt him and Delaney. Though, in some ways that may have been a good thing.
She thought he was like Olena? Impossible. Olena Ond was a moron, and while Trystan had been called many things in the past, moron had never been one of them.
He shook his head, slamming both palms flat against the double doors leading to the conference room. They slapped against the inner walls, rebounding with a loud clatter that he hardly noticed.
There were five Tellers in the room already, all Kint, and without needing him to say a word, they scattered. They bowed as they passed, but Trystan was already turning his attention toward the large screen on the wall.
He checked his clothing, cursing under his breath when he remembered he wasn’t in uniform. He ran a hand over his hair to smooth down any unruly strands. He was painfully aware of the dark circles still under his eyes—a result of the constant meetings his father had been calling lately—but there was nothing to be done about it now.
Just as he was going to bend down and flick a speck of dust from the toe of his boot, the screen emitted a low chime. A second later his father’s face filled half the wall before him.
Of course, the Rex looked impeccable, and Trystan clasped his hands behind his back to hide the fact that he was making tight fists. To the End family, appearance was everything, and if his father wasn’t reminding him of this verbally, he was always sure to do so physically.
His father got straight to the point. “I hear there were complications at the Positioning.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Trystan said.
“It’s my understanding that Basilissa Tilda handled it,” the Rex stated. “Smart, to renew fear of their Basilissa in the Vakar. But was an all-out riot part of your brilliant plan as well?”
“It hardly got that far.”
Damn his father’s spies for making it sound otherwise. Usually he carefully screened the Tellers he had around him, made sure none of them had overtly strong ties to the Rex. Taking over the Vakar palace had been too big a play, however, and Trystan had been force
d to accept whatever troops he’d had to send.
“From the sound of it, even your human was worried.”
It took all Trystan’s strength to keep from snarling. To anyone else, it may have sounded like a mere statement, but he knew the truth. Despite his agreement to move forward, the Rex didn’t completely approve of Delaney.
“I’ve got everything under control,” he said.
“Good.” The Rex waved his hand absently. “I don’t need to know the details. I trust you’ll handle it.”
What he really meant was that he didn’t want to be linked back if it hadn’t all been handled. Trystan might have been insulted, but he understood where his father was coming from. As the Rex, it was far more important that he appear above reproach. Ordering his son to take care of the things he couldn’t be caught doing himself helped with that.
It was always Trystan who was seen doing the dirty work. Trystan who was seen as the conniving and scheming one of the two.
The Rex was sitting in his office, a wall of black shelves at his back housing neat rows of leather-bound volumes that Trystan was positive his father had never actually read.
“Speaking of the human, when do you intend to bring her to Carnage?”
Trystan should have known this call wasn’t a congratulatory one.
“It makes more sense to keep her here,” he said, having already rehearsed this argument in his mind a dozen times. “She was seen publicly for the first time last night. I think it’s important she remains here, for a while longer anyway, so that she can be seen again. A visual reminder to the Vakar. Despite Tilda’s announcement, there is still unrest among some of the Vakar council.”
Regular citizens were easier to control; the council took more effort.
“It’s not just the Vakar you should be worried about, son.” In typical fashion, his father didn’t elaborate. “But fine. You’ll remain there for now, just long enough to bash her presence over the heads of those foolish Vakar idiots. For this to work, we need them on our side. For now. We can’t risk losing support.”
The fact that it was a “we” sent Trystan’s blood pressure soaring, but he kept himself outwardly in check.
“We won’t,” he said evenly.
“Hmm.” His father gave him another once-over and then tapped his fingers against the solid surface of his desk. “How are you? Now that she’s here, I expected your mood to improve, yet it still appears as though you haven’t gotten any sleep.”
“I’ve been busy, that’s all. Once things settle—”
“You lost control last night,” he added. “What have I always told you? Actions have consequences. We cannot afford to make mistakes, especially not ones as public as the Positioning.”
“It was an error in judgment,” Trystan admitted, knowing that it was what the Rex was waiting for. “I underestimated the Vakars’ disapproval, or overestimated their loyalty to tradition and the Basilissa. It won’t happen again.”
“The Tars are growing in numbers every day,” the Rex reminded him. “You need to get control of the people you can before they defect and join the rebels.”
“If the Tars become an actual threat, I’ll take care of them.”
“Your arrogance is amusing, boy, but it’ll hardly get that human of yours on the throne.” He shook his head. “I’m sending the coordinator tomorrow. You convince her, and perhaps you’ll be able to pull off convincing the rest of the planet.”
“What?” Trystan went stock-still, muscles tensing. “Father, that’s not—”
“Oh, I believe it’s entirely necessary,” the Rex said snidely. He was enjoying this. “If you’re as serious as you claim, you should be pleased. Having a coordinator verify your compatibility will help ease unrest in both kingdoms. Surely you can see that?”
“Of course, Father.” His words came out calm, the exact opposite of what he felt.
The coordinator was an obstacle Trystan had been hoping to avoid, and now he inwardly cursed himself for being foolish enough to think the Rex would let him get away with that. Whoever his father was going to send, they weren’t going to be coached into passing him and Delaney. Which meant they were actually going to have to take the time and go through the entire tedious process.
“You are aware that should you fail with the coordinator, something must be done about the girl, correct?”
His heart squeezed, but Trystan ignored it.
“She can’t simply be allowed back to Earth, now can she? Not after everything she’s witnessed here.”
“She doesn’t know anything.” Trystan hadn’t so much as mentioned his father to her other than in passing for that very reason. To keep her from discovering the Rex’s true motives. “Her planet knows enough about us that taking such extreme actions shouldn’t be necessary regardless.”
“Those are not risks I am willing to take.” The Rex’s eyes narrowed into thin, judgmental slits. “If you’re so opposed to it coming to that, I suggest you make sure the two of you pass. As I’ve said, I’ll send the coordinator to you tomorrow. See that you don’t look like that when she arrives. She might find it suspicious.”
“And you’d find a problem with that?” Trystan spoke through gritted teeth, knowing he should just bite his tongue. The threat toward Delaney had done something to him, clouded his judgment, but he couldn’t very well take the words back. So he waited silently for his father’s retaliation.
His father sighed and rubbed at the spot between his brows as if a headache were forming. “Trystan, you’re the one who came to me with this ridiculous plan. Do you expect me to be pleased with your choice of bondmate? She’s human, and her being here complicates things. However”—he held up a hand to stop any interruptions—“I agreed taking her as your betrothed made the most political sense, and I haven’t changed my stance.”
That was good, considering it was all but done already. Delaney was here, and she’d been officially announced as the heir to the Vakar throne. Although, Trystan knew his father wasn’t just referring to Vakar. His intended reach stretched much further than that.
“It would be simpler if we skipped the testing ceremonies,” Trystan said, making one last attempt at changing his father’s mind. “If we rushed the binding, no one could argue it.” They couldn’t challenge something that was unchangeable.
“The Vakar aren’t the only ones voicing their disapproval of this merger. This process is imperative. If you can’t get her to successfully pass, the council will make their distaste public, and it won’t just be the Tars you’ll have to worry about.”
Trystan was the Zane, and he hated the idea of having his decisions ruled by anyone on his father’s council. But he would agree to go through all the traditions if it meant appeasing the Rex.
The sound of a door clicking open somewhere offscreen distracted the Rex for a split second. He nodded at whoever was now in the room with him, and then motioned to Trystan. “We’ll discuss this further after you’ve had more time to assess the situation. Now that it’s become a reality, you might find things don’t always work out the way you planned.”
It was another barb about his broken betrothal to Olena, but Trystan barely felt it. The fact that he was free from tying his life force to that whiney monstrosity made all the disappointment his father could throw at him worth it.
“Until again, Father.” Trystan bowed his head.
* * *
DELANEY SWORE SHE was done crying. She’d given herself a good hour of sobbing like a child, and now it was out of her system. It had to be.
Suddenly the door to the main room swung open, revealing Trystan standing there. He didn’t move forward, his body filling the exit so that each shoulder almost brushed against the door frame on either side. His mouth was twisted in frustration, and there was a crease between his blond brows.
Wherever he’d just been, being there hadn’t helped any with his mood.
Delaney had spent a good amount of time in the bathroom, making sure any signs of
the tears she’d shed weren’t visible. Still, she braced when he ran his gaze over her.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Yes.” She hadn’t realized until now, but she was starving. She couldn’t recall the last real meal she’d had. He held up an arm toward the door, indicating she should exit the room, waiting for her to comply.
Delaney couldn’t see a reason not to, and as soon as she was in the hall, he steered them to the right and began leading the way. They moved at an even pace and fell into a steady silence.
They’d gone down a few corridors and made one last turn to find a Kint Teller standing in front of a single door. He twisted the handle before they’d even come to a full stop before it.
“Why didn’t we just eat in your room?” she asked as Trystan tugged her beneath the archway after him.
“Because then I wouldn’t have been able to surprise you,” he said, stepping to the side so she could see their surroundings. “With this.”
Delaney scanned the area, taking in the flat stage that stretched wall to wall at the far end, and the rows of built-in chairs in front of it. The rows were set in levels, leading downward. There were two seats separated from the rest at the very center, a small table between them, with two silver trays and a set of glasses already filled.
“What is this?”
“Did you get a chance to watch one of our movies during your previous stay?” Trystan asked, leading her to the seat on the left, and took the place next to her.
No, she hadn’t. Ruckus had told her he’d show her, but he’d never gotten the chance.
Somehow already knowing the answer, Trystan continued. “The one about to play is my favorite. I used to watch it a lot as a child. I thought we could try it while we eat. See if you enjoy them as much as you do your Earth films.”
There was a warm calculation behind his blue-and-crimson eyes. It was different from the way he usually looked at her before pulling something. Was he trying a fresh approach, perhaps?
“You’re trying to get me to relax,” she accused him. Her stomach chose that second to growl, loudly enough that there was no way he hadn’t heard.
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