“What’s with you?” She braced herself on the door frame, the move bringing her that much closer.
“I just spoke with my father,” he surprised her by admitting.
“I take it that didn’t go well.” When she’d initially discovered that the Rex was all but selling his son’s future away by tying him to Olena—a girl he hated—Delaney had felt bad for Trystan. To her, the Rex had always made questionable choices, but then, she’d never been in a position of power like he was.
She didn’t know what it was like to have every single decision affect the lives of an entire race. Trystan had rarely spoken of his father to her when she was pretending to be Olena, so Delaney had never really grasped the mechanics of their relationship before now.
“You don’t like your father, do you?” she asked, though it was so obvious, she didn’t really need to bother. She had a strained relationship with her own dad, and it was a struggle for her to bank any rising pity or sympathy she felt toward Trystan.
They weren’t the same, and allowing her mind to make those false connections would only lead to more trouble.
“My father is the Rex,” Trystan stated, and the next item of clothing he took he practically tore by yanking it off the rack. “One does not like their king. They obey him.”
“I should probably warn you now then,” she said, pushing him when she shouldn’t, “that I’m not in the business of obeying kings, so if that’s where you think you and I are going, think again.”
That made him pause, and while it caused warning bells to go off in her head, it also brought an odd sense of relief. Anger and annoyance were familiar emotions coming from him; that weird sullen look he’d been wearing a second prior was not. He was already so unpredictable, having him in a state of mind she wasn’t used to actually made her more uncomfortable.
What did that say about her, that she’d rather piss him off than let him sulk?
“You obeyed the Basileus,” he reminded her.
“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”
“You don’t have one now.”
“Correction”—she settled her features into one of disinterest—“you don’t. You’re the one who wants to impress Daddy. I could decide this very moment to be a coldhearted bitch. My friends would die—horribly, I’m sure—but then you’d be out of leverage.”
“Caution, Delaney,” he said, his voice so low, she almost didn’t catch it.
“What?” She painted a look of innocence on her face and then idly turned back into the bedroom. “I’m practicing.”
He gritted his teeth. “I don’t want you to be Olena.”
It bothered her a little that she hadn’t needed to further explain what she’d meant, but she shoved that feeling aside with the rest and spun back around. Dropping down to the edge of the bed, she forced herself to shrug a single shoulder.
“I’m assuming the same set of personality traits you gave me to use on the coordinator aren’t the ones you want me to execute on the Rex, though, right? I’ve never met the man, but from what I’ve heard of him, he doesn’t really seem like the type who respects docile.”
“He doesn’t like petty and disrespectful, either,” he countered. “Neither do I, for that matter. Unless you want me calling your bluff, you’ll refrain from lying about letting people die. Murder in your name isn’t something your conscience could ever accept, Delaney, so don’t joke about it.”
She didn’t argue with him, instead giving another shrug before motioning to the clothes he was still holding. “What will it be then?”
His eyes narrowed and he stared, a weighted silence settling over them. It was obvious he was trying to work something out—if only she could deduce what exactly that was so she could better prepare for it.
“Would you like to help me choose my new Sworn?” he offered suddenly, and the way he did it made her feel like he hadn’t meant to.
Recognizing the Kint equivalent of an Ander had Delaney’s throat closing up. She felt the hot sting of angry tears threaten to pool, and bit down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood in order to force them back. As badly as she wanted to, raging at him right now wouldn’t be beneficial.
“Sure.” Brightan had been his last Sworn, and it’d been almost two months since he’d died. “Why haven’t you done it already?”
“I don’t need a head of guard,” he scoffed, more of who he usually was bleeding through. “I am perfectly capable of defending myself, thank you very much. Now that you’re here, however, I feel that it’s a necessary precaution.”
She couldn’t help but scowl at the implication. “I’m not letting one of your people follow me around, Trystan.”
“Do you want to be allowed out of this room?” he inquired. “I’ve managed to push off my father’s visit, as he never wanted me to bring you here in the first place, but that can’t last. Eventually he’ll make an appearance, and I need to be prepared for that moment’s arrival. I also have responsibilities, ones that don’t yet include you, which I cannot continue ignoring to babysit. So”—he moved closer, bending down so that they were at eye level—“you can let me assign a Sworn, or you can stay here. Cooped up.”
“Like a chicken,” she practically growled as he straightened.
“I believe that’s a flightless bird. Correct?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Then, yes, like a chicken.”
“I’m pretty sure I hate you more than anyone else on any planet in the entire universe.”
“That’s not bad.” He actually smirked at her. “Two days ago you were certain; now you’re only ‘pretty sure.’ That’s progress.”
“That’s not what—”
“This.” He held out a dress to her, practically whipping her in the face with it. “You’ll wear this. You can change in the bathroom again, like last time. Or you can put your ridiculous modesty aside and do so here.”
Delaney tugged the white dress out of his hand and pointedly turned toward the door. He stopped her just as she was about to reach it, though, and when she looked back around, it was to find he was holding out a pair of leather leggings.
Forced to go back, she tried to snatch those from him as well, but he’d anticipated that, tightening his grip on them.
“Thank you,” he said, and she blinked, taken aback for a moment.
“For what?”
“You goaded me on purpose. I’m in a much better mood now.”
She wanted to snap and tell him that hadn’t been her intention, but something held her back. She’d wanted him to shake off the quiet disposition—that was true. Had she inadvertently meant to make him happier? She didn’t think so; her goal had been to piss him off … make him argue with her, because that was normal for them.
Normal was comfortable, though, and comfortable was certainly better than feeling melancholy after a conversation with your dad.
Shit.
“It won’t happen again,” she promised, hoping that her tone covered up the fact that she’d just realized he was right.
“It will,” he disagreed. “You can’t help yourself, Delaney. You don’t like seeing others in pain.”
“You’re hardly in pain,” she told him.
“As you’ve said”—his smile wavered, but only slightly—“you’ve never met my father.”
Finally his hold on the leggings eased so that she could easily take them. When she didn’t immediately move away, he lifted a pointed brow.
“We’ll be late if you don’t change, Delaney.”
His words snapped her out of it, and she rushed from the room as quickly as she could. It didn’t even matter that it looked like she was running; she just needed to get away from him as fast as possible. She slammed the bathroom door behind her for good measure, and quickly put on the new outfit.
There was no safe feeling when he was around, she thought, a bitter taste filling her mouth. It wasn’t like with Ruckus, where having him near was never near enough. Trystan made her skin buzz in that way between discom
fort and confusion, neither an emotion she liked.
How the hell did he expect her to live like this? Even for another week—let alone for the rest of her life.
It wouldn’t come to that, though, she assured herself. Eventually, Ruckus would get out and then they’d come up with a new solution. Maybe she would have to make it to the binding ceremony, give Trystan what he really wanted—a merger of Kint and Vakar.
Recalling his promise the other night sparked a renewed sense of hope, a plan taking form.
He said he’d let Ruckus and the others go so long as she successfully convinced the world that the two of them were a well-bonded pair. Surely if she did that and helped him join Kint and Vakar, he’d extend the same offer to her. He would no longer have any use for her, after all, and it would solve the Tar problem at the same time. They wouldn’t have to worry about what kind of ruler she was—and Trystan could more than handle ruling two kingdoms on his own. All his talk about forever was just show, she was almost positive. A means to scare her into playing along.
Keeping her around for the rest of their lives? He couldn’t want that. He’d be busy playing high king. After hearing more about his father, she might even understand. His need to get away from the Rex, to no longer have to worry about following his orders, it made sense. Hadn’t she gone to boarding school to get away from her dad? Trystan was taking it to an entirely different extreme, but the end goal was similar.
So why not help him get what he wanted? If she agreed, and she actually tried, they could both focus on convincing his father and the rest of the world, as opposed to wasting all this energy on threats.
That option would appeal to him, wouldn’t it?
And in the end, when it came time for him to let her go home, they could come up with a good lie as to why. Hell, it was a bonding in name only anyway. It didn’t have to mean anything. Not really.
Ruckus wouldn’t like that she’d made a deal with Trystan to stick around willingly, but he’d understand if it meant in the end they could return to their lives and not have to worry about looking over their shoulders.
Trystan needed her, and now she needed him. This could work. She merely had to make it to their bonding without blowing it. Act like she liked Trystan in front of other people, keep her friends safe by doing so, and, ultimately, get to go home.
The whole plan hinged on Trystan agreeing, but she was confident she could get him to. As a human, they didn’t need to undergo the same process he would if he were marrying an alien. That meant he’d still be able to choose someone himself, someone he could spend the rest of his life with and procreate with.
With a renewed sense of hope, Delaney exited the bathroom only to find Trystan already waiting in the adjoined sitting area.
“I have stipulations,” she blurted, already plotting out how she could work her way up to asking for what she really wanted.
“About?” He seemed genuinely intrigued, which was a good sign.
“This”—she twirled a finger in the air—“making this seem legit.”
“I don’t know what that last word means,” he admitted, canting his head. “But all right. I’m curious. Proceed.”
“I want regular visits with Ruckus and the others.” She needed to find a way to tell him her plan. He had to be just as worried about her as she was for him. Before Trystan could immediately veto the idea, she held up a hand. “I need to be able to see for myself that they’re all right. Talk to them and hear they aren’t being mistreated. Which also means I want guarantees they aren’t going to be mistreated.”
Trystan clearly didn’t like it, but he thought it over before giving a curt nod. “But only so long as your acting is convincing.”
She eyed him suspiciously and he chuckled.
“Deal.”
“That can’t be all,” he said.
“It isn’t.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, silently cursing herself for not being more prepared. She’d spent most of the night feeling sorry for herself and pissed at him; she hadn’t thought up much more than asking to see Ruckus.
She ticked off a list in her mind of all the things he did that bothered her most. Over the past few days there’d been a few things he’d said that made her believe that he might be open to giving her more information.
“I need you to tell me, in detail, about things before they happen. No more making me walk into rooms blindly, hoping there’s no one there I need to impress. Like throwing the coordinator at me fifteen minutes before my first meeting with her. Not cool, and it makes my doing this job a lot more difficult.”
“I’m not very big on sharing, Delaney,” Trystan said, though he was smiling. “But all right. I can agree to try my best when it comes to events that directly correlate with pretending to like me.”
“Good. There’s more,” she quickly added, “and if you refuse, I’m out.”
She held her breath, watching a play of emotions flicker over his face before he settled on cautious. Clearly, he’d just realized that her two other requests had been to ease him into what she really wanted.
He could have called her bluff—they both knew despite how angry she was by all this, she would never let anything happen to Ruckus—but he didn’t. He didn’t even take the opportunity to remind her that she didn’t actually have an “out.” Which should have been the flashing neon sign that he was teetering dangerously close to the edge.
And she was the one pushing him.
Taking his silence as a means to continue, she squared her shoulders and said, “I want you to release all of us at the end of this.”
He still didn’t speak, and she felt her own irritation start to claw uncomfortably at her insides.
“I’m sick of you dangling my friends and my future in my face every time I step out of line,” she snapped, unable to contain it any longer. “Last night you promised that you’d let my friends go after the binding. Well, I’ve thought about it, and it’s not good enough.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t.” So caught up in getting the words out, she breezed on through, completely missing the bite of iron in his tone. “And stop looking at me like that. You think you’re angry? I’m angry! This is my life!” The other thing he’d said last night came to mind, and she shoved it bitterly away. “If you want me to do this, successfully do this, you’ve got to give me better motivation. Something other than just threats against the people I care about. I need hope that there’s going to be more at the end of all this. That we’ll be safe.”
He watched her as she deflated in front of him, all the fight flooding out of her so quickly, it was a wonder her legs didn’t fold beneath her.
Good sense was returning, making her realize that she’d gone about this all wrong. What she should have done was wait, carefully plan out exactly what she was going to say to him. Make it so there was no way he could refuse to accept her terms. She could tell, now that her own frustrations were bleeding out, that all she’d managed to do was fuel his own fury.
But that was what she’d wanted, right? Him angry instead of sullen. Careful what you wish for, she thought.
“Hope,” he said finally, his voice cutting across the silence like a knife. “You want hope.”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly.
“You want me to tell you that once I get what I want, I’ll let you go back to Earth? Telling you that, that’ll give you hope?”
“Yes,” she repeated.
She knew she should be paying more attention, trying to find some hidden meaning in his words, but she was blinded by desperation. She was so close to having an end in sight, she didn’t want to jeopardize it, or the relief that possibility brought. It’d been so long since she’d felt like she could breathe, and she wanted that, even if it was just for a moment before they went off to do whatever it was he had planned for the rest of the day.
Even if he was the one inadvertently giving it to her.
“And you’re certain, Delaney? That’s what yo
u need?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
She blinked, sure she’d misheard him. When he didn’t make any moves to take it back, or even any moves at all, her mouth dropped open. “What?”
“As soon as I’ve gotten what I want”—he took a deliberate step toward her—“everything that I want, I’ll take you back to Earth.”
“Really?” She barely heard, let alone cared, the way her voice cracked.
“I said it, didn’t I?”
“And my friends?” She swallowed. “Ruckus?”
His mouth twisted in distaste, but his tone was even. “I’ll set them free.”
She’d expected more of a struggle, a fight, especially considering how angry he’d been. And still was.
“I’ll release them after our binding,” he said, when she took too long to speak, “like I initially promised.”
He was agreeing. She was going to get to go home again, return to her life with Ruckus. With any luck, this whole ordeal could be nothing more than a horrible blip in their lives. She just needed to get through it, convince the Rex and the rest of Xenith that she wanted to be here. That she had feelings for Trystan.
Trystan, who’d somehow moved to stand directly in front of her without her noticing.
Widening her eyes, she tipped her head back so that she could see him, feeling her throat close up when their gazes met. Oh yes, he was definitely still furious, and it was being barely contained right beneath the surface. So it came as a huge shock when he lifted a hand between them.
“This is how deals are struck on your planet, are they not?” he asked when all she did was stare down at his palm.
His hand dwarfed hers, practically folding all the way over it. Surprisingly, he didn’t hold on to her longer than proper social etiquette dictated. He let her go and watched as she stepped back without so much as a scowl.
“There is one thing,” he mentioned. “We’re about to attend a meeting with a group of extremely important people. In my defense, it was set before you made that particular stipulation.”
“Who’s going to be there?”
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