Chapter 54
Fifty-four
Edwin
James did not resist as I pulled him out of the ballroom, to a balcony off to the side, where I quickly closed the doors. A silent signal that we needed privacy out here.
I had never seen him this rattled. Not even when a Wrath threatened our lives.
He’d handled every emergency with aplomb and dogged determination.
Even his nightmares paled in comparison now.
He kept taking these short breaths, like he was on the verge of a panic attack, and his complexion was horrible, this waxy grey color.
His grip on me was iron, near painful, and I could sense the fear in it.
He seemed almost lost. Like a man waking from a nightmare only to find a different iteration of it right in his face.
To him, seeing his former wife might very well mean just that.
“James? Breathe with me.” I put his free hand on my own chest, breathing deep and steady, hoping to guide him into calmer breaths.
After a moment, he followed my breathing, visibly calming. Not calm, though, not by a long shot. Still, he was no longer doing that panicked, shaky breathing.
A wounded noise tearing out of his throat, he released my hands to stalk to the stone balustrade and seize it with such strength I feared for its integrity.
“Why in Zinos’s name is she here?!”
The words rang with such force, such despair, my own heart ached in return.
I could only intellectually empathize with all he had gone through.
His recounting of the past, the notes I’d seen, the nightmares he suffered, they were my only guidance on how severe his first life had been.
This was another moment where I saw a glimpse into his past—and all I saw was fear and pain.
It hurt, ridiculously so, to watch him and there not be a damn thing I could do to help him.
His voice rose, almost competing with the room filled with jabbering people only a door away from us. “How the hell is she here?”
“How did Victor get introduced to her is another question I have.” He should have been on a naval ship sailing south—granted, Valentina was from Ascor, on our southern border, but just sailing by a country didn’t mean you magically met a princess. “Did Victor ever meet her in your first life?”
“No. Not at all. By the time I was engaged to her, he’d been dead quite some time.”
His answer troubled me deeply. Of course things were bound to change in this life, with James actively doing what he could to offset disasters, but this? How could this possibly be a butterfly effect of his actions? Two people who had never met in a previous life were now engaged.
What else had changed? What other things had happened that I hadn’t traced, or foreseen, which had led to this? Surely Victor being stripped of family, title, and money before being exiled wasn’t the direct reason for him to meet Valentina.
James stared out over the silent, moonlit garden and snarled, “What part of this is acceptable? How can events happen so out of order, or new ones come in that are so completely unexpected I can’t even predict them?
Valentina shouldn’t be here for another five years. She’s still a damn child right now!”
True, she was fifteen, if memory served. Too young to even legally marry. Ha, actually, that might be why Victor was only engaged to her. He was completely the type to elope in order to reclaim his power. Perhaps we should be thankful of her age?
Or I hoped that single barrier was enough to buy us time.
“Her being a child means they can’t marry. Not yet. We’ve got time to undo this, James.”
“We shouldn’t have to worry about this to begin with!” James banged his fist against the balustrade, his tone ugly. “Surely dealing with her isn’t a matter of fate!”
When he spiraled over things he couldn’t control, we needed to get him drunk and let him sleep it off.
That I knew for sure. Damn shame we couldn’t yet.
We still had a crowded ballroom behind us with only poor Helena and Royce inside to deal with everyone.
I felt the itch between my shoulder blades to go back in there and start the ball.
It didn’t compare to my need to comfort James.
Vuheia had warned me I must do a better job at protecting James, and I felt like this was one of those moments.
I must ignore my usual responsibilities and focus only on him.
He needed me the most; a failed ball was hardly important in comparison. I had my priorities.
I came in closer and hugged him from behind, my arms tight around his waist.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” I promised him. “I’ll set spies loose first thing.”
His hand covered mine in a tight grip and, for a long moment, he was silent. “What do you give the odds of this engagement going through?”
“Twenty percent at most.”
“Why?”
I think he already knew, he just needed to hear it. “For one thing, the Ascorian monarchy isn’t going to let their daughter marry an exiled prince.”
“Heh. That much is true. Their reputation would take a beating if they did.”
“I think your adoptive parents will also fear what havoc Victor will wreak in their country. He can’t seem to behave three minutes, much less five.
Plus, there’s the matter of what to do, how they can punish him, as they’ve already stripped him of everything he had.
I doubt they want to behead him over this, more’s the pity.
If they turn him loose in Zuskal, it’ll bring about ruination in one way or another and then they’ll be cleaning up the mess.
Neither country wants to upset the good relationship they have now.
This marriage threatens it in every possible aspect. ”
“Also true. I fear…”
I waited him out, knowing from the way his body had clenched that this was the heart of the matter.
“I fear they will try to foist the engagement off on me rather than let Victor carry it.”
Ah-ha. Well, he wasn’t wrong to fear…I could practically feel Queen Beatrice coming up with the idea even now. Still, we had ways to combat that, too. “You can deny the engagement on two grounds. First, she’s a child—you legally can’t marry her anyway.”
James barked out an ugly laugh. “True.”
“Two, you have it in writing that your parents can’t even suggest a spouse to you. You can legally tell them to fuck off if she tries.”
“I never got the opportunity to tell her to fuck off in my first life,” James said in an almost dreamy way. “I wanted to so many times. Maybe I’ll actually say it this time.”
“You should, if she suggests it. She really has no grounds.”
“True.”
“Third, and most importantly, if Valentina tries to get her claws into you again, I’ll murder the bitch myself.”
At that, James turned in my arms and grinned, his expression sharp and fierce. “I’ll hold you to it.” He let out a long breath that released the tension riding in him. “You’re so good at talking me down.”
“Oh, is that why you like me? I’m a James wrangler?”
He snorted a laugh, and I knew the worst had passed for now. “You really are. I’m forever thankful for it.”
Draping his arms around my shoulders, he sighed and lowered his head to rest against mine, eyes closed.
I stayed still, breathing his breath, knowing he was gathering and steeling himself to go back inside.
I willed strength into him, wanting to bolster him any way I could.
This pose felt strangely intimate, and I made a mental note to do it again later. I loved feeling so close to him.
Eventually, he lifted his head and exhaled a long breath.
“Ready to go back in, then?”
“Hmm, yes, let’s not leave it all to Helena and Royce. That seems unfair.” James stepped out of my hands only to twine his fingers with mine.
I kept my hand in his as we walked back into the ballroom.
To my surprise, the ball was underway. In the time we’d been out on the balcony, someone had started the music, done the opening dance, and gotten everyone on the floor. A great many nobles lingered by tables to gossip, which was completely understandable, but at least the ball was in motion.
I sensed Helena’s work here.
James took me right up onto the dais with him, which was technically not allowed, but I was certainly not going to argue with him. Not in this mood.
Helena sat there with Prince Royce and Lucien, so I wasn’t the only nonroyal on the dais. She looked peeved behind the false smile painted onto her face.
“James,” she said, all while smiling and nodding at someone else passing by. “How are you?”
“Livid. Also sick to my stomach. If there’s ever a pairing that shouldn’t exist, it’s that one.”
Lucien, the only one not caught up to speed, seemed a bit lost. “Am I missing something?”
James unbent enough to explain, “Princess Valentina is only fifteen.”
“Oh.” Lucien’s eyes blew wide in surprise. “Oh shit. Seriously?”
“And she’s the female equivalent of Victor in personality.”
“For Shidteus’s sake.” Lucien slumped into his chair and looked abruptly tired. “This now makes more sense. Of course those two would get along like a house on fire. How did they even meet?”
“I do not know and I’m dying to find out.”
I think we all shared that sentiment.
I brought up the other elephant in the room, loath as I was to do it. “I’m not imagining things, am I? Was King Patrick really going to declare James as the crown prince before Victor burst in?”
“I believe he was.” Prince Royce sighed. He was slumped sideways, head in hand, looking very done with this whole evening. “Not that anyone tells me anything.”
“He didn’t tell me either,” James muttered darkly. Lye and thumbscrews filtered through his tone. “If he had managed his announcement, I would have embarrassed him on the spot. Trying to publicly pressure me is a tactic I won’t fall for.”
“Nor should you. Although the fallout would be very ugly as well.” I didn’t like how this was something else he now had to guard against. James had only asked for two promises from his adoptive parents, and it was mind-boggling that they seemed to forget both promises on a daily basis.
They apparently didn’t care about what their children wanted or how they felt, only the utility they brought.
Helena’s eyes roved over James again, and she said, with sympathy, “Why don’t you just call it a night?”
James about sank into a puddle with relief. “Can you manage, then?”
“I can, don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll return the favor later. Edwin?”
I had no intention of staying if he was going to leave. Balls weren’t really my scene anyway. I’d much rather be curled up under a blanket with a good book.
“Really do not like this,” James muttered as he stalked into the hallway. “I’m of half a mind to join the conversation my so-called parents are currently having with my idiot brother.”
“No, don’t,” I advised. “You know it’s just going to be a lot of yelling, nothing productive. Wait until tomorrow when people aren’t ready to murder. Then you’ll get something sensible.”
“Ugh, you’re right, I just hate it.”
“I know. What we can do is get the spies in motion, though.”
“True. They might glean some good intel tonight.”
He’d been leading us to his rooms but at my suggestion detoured to the aviary instead.
The place was filled with homing pigeons, most tucked in for the night, gently cooing from time to time.
There was only one caretaker at this time of the night, and he was bored enough to be happy to have something to do.
James penned a quick message to our southern spies, then slipped it into the carrier pigeon’s holder before the caretaker sent her off with a flurry of wings. Only then did I feel at ease, knowing someone would shortly be working on the problem.
I took James’s hand back in mine as we left the aviary.
He didn’t truly relax until we were back in his—I suppose our—rooms. James immediately toed off his shoes, slipped his suit jacket off, undid his cravat, and laid everything haphazardly onto the nearest chair. Honestly, he looked more comfortable, so I did the same.
When I turned, barefoot, James flicked on a music box, and a popular love ballad I only knew half the words to started to play.
James extended a hand to me. “Dance?”
I could dance, I just rarely had the opportunity to do so.
I knew James had wanted to dance all night with me, had been looking forward to it, and honestly?
The chance to openly dance in his arms, to silently show everyone this man was mine—I had been very much looking forward to it as well.
In fact, I felt quite robbed I hadn’t been able to dance with him.
I accepted his hand and let him lead as he twirled us both into position.
Tonight, though, was a slow dance with his cheek pressed against mine.
I could feel the need in him to keep me close.
Knew that under this calm, there was a bone-chilling worry and fear eating at him.
If I had been confronted with my monster of an ex, I wouldn’t be handling it this calmly.
Hell, I wasn’t directly in the line of fire, and I still wasn’t handling this well.
I was furious at the assholes who had once again put my poor lover through the wringer, and for no other reason than because of their own selfishness.
Shouldn’t greed have limits? At the very least, couldn’t their selfishness take some other form that didn’t impact James?
Angry as I was with them, my heart broke for James, who hadn’t wanted drama tonight. He’d just wanted to dance with me and even that had been taken from him.
I slid a hand to the nape of his neck and drew his head down, touching my forehead lightly to his even as our feet barely shuffled in the right patterns.
I didn’t know how to verbalize all of what I felt.
The love I had for him, my determination to somehow make this all right, my concern for how he would manage.
It was all too much to frame in the words available to me.
Perhaps he felt it, as he pulled me in tighter, the tension slowly draining out of his shoulders.
“Dance with me, Edwin,” he murmured against my skin. “Just dance with me.”
I smiled and held him closer to me. “Always.”