Chapter 17
Ford
All things considered, everything was going surprisingly well.
Making it through the night alive and with all my limbs in tact chief among them. There was also the fact that I’d awoken pleasantly warm, with Esme curled next to me despite us occupying a large, plush bed.
Our accommodations were quite nice. I treat my guests well, Caspian had said before heading into the suite of rooms on the other side of the inn. It was Elijah who had actually walked each of us to the door, parting with a not-so-subtle threat that we were not to leave.
Esme had spent the better part of twenty minutes regaling all the ways it was incredibly ridiculous and honestly childish that we were stuck here, unable to debrief the night with everyone.
I had managed to pull a small smile out of her when I reminded her that we could speak to each other, unless of course she preferred to hold a cup to the wall and try to talk to Freya or Bellamy.
Two days ago, she probably would have done just that. Instead, she flopped down in one of the sitting chairs tucked in the corner and decided that I was good enough for the night.
Progress.
The more we talked, the more we settled in and realized that we’d noticed much of the same thing.
Caspian being a pretentious little asshole.
Esme had said young and immature but I preferred my description.
What Esme failed to notice what how often his gaze drifted to her or his little smile when he caught me staring daggers at him.
He had to know it was a dangerous game to play, provoking a paranima like that.
Maybe Elijah told him you had your head up your ass, the Bond grumbled at me. For all Esme complained that it ruined her life, it was her number-one defender—when it came to me, at least.
I’d already become well-acquainted with its ability to shriek its head off when it was displeased. Whatever Esme may have done to suppress it, not acknowledging it for as long as I had was clearly a more serious crime.
It only calmed down when I made it clear I agreed with it.
Elijah was still somewhat of a mystery. A cousin to the Prince, we’d learned, but clearly something more than that. There were a few times I’d noticed Caspian was a little slow to respond, as if he expected someone else to speak for him. Was it his mother the queen he was waiting for, or Elijah?
Still much to learn. I could tell that Soren was cautiously optimistic, but I still couldn’t quite shake that warning they’d sent after they burned down our camp. The Bridge will be ours.
Those were the words of an aggressor, not someone motivated by peace.
When I’d mentioned the same to Esme, she said it was just as probable that those words came from a place of fear, like a caged animal snapping at everything that came near it.
She was acting similarly, though I wouldn’t be the one to point that out. As evidenced by the fact that when it came time to go to bed, all the comfort we’d built while sitting together and casually talking—enough that she accepted a cup of tea I’d made her without comment—vanished into thin air.
It took effort to hide my smile, understanding her quips and grumbles for what they were, as she stomped around the room preparing for bed.
Then it was my turn to grow quiet when it dawned on me that we’d be sharing this bed together.
There was something much more sterile about a tent and a barrack.
This was…romantic. I’d had a hell of a time keeping certain thoughts away before and I wasn’t so sure I was going to have much luck doing the same now. Especially when Esme walked out of the bathroom with her brown eyes bright and lips shining.
I called out for strength to anyone who would listen, with only the Bond choosing to respond. Entirely unhelpful, of course. Encouraging, even.
It had taken over an hour for me to fall asleep, though once I did, I slept more deeply than I had in years. And now, she was comfortably curled into my side, her soft breaths pulsing against my arm.
The tip of her nose was no more than half an inch away from my skin. I’d shamelessly flexed my arm just to see whether the movement would cause that space to disappear. Close, so close the negative space between us felt like torture.
Probably for the best, especially since Esme was likely to wake up the second we touched.
Instead, I settled for heaving breaths of desperate air and trying not to think about how cute Esme probably looked, tucked behind her hands like a little cat.
After a few minutes, I lost the battle and turned my head to look at her, finding her waking slowly.
Her nose scrunched first, a little wiggle as her body started to come back to life. Then her eyes blinked open sleepily.
For a long moment, I could tell the Bond was still in control. She was entirely content, a serene glint to her sweet brown eyes that made something deep inside my chest clench painfully.
In reality, the moment where our eyes locked and held was no more than a few seconds. It felt like hours, time slipping by while we just existed, not moving until the sun had fully risen.
I saw the moment Esme came back to herself, her eyes widening then settling, that sheen chased away.
By what? I was still sorting that out, but I was leaning towards a misguided sense of self-preservation. She genuinely, to her core, thought I would hurt her. That maybe I didn’t want her.
How ridiculous.
To you, maybe, the Bond snapped.
That correction was an important reminder, especially as Esme pushed up and away from me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry,” she murmured.
If I reacted like I wanted, some way to express how abhorrent I found that apology, she probably wouldn’t believe me.
“Turns out you’re a human sleeping pill,” I said, the gravel in my voice nearly betraying me. “No apologies for that.”
The small smile that graced Esme’s mouth made me feel like I could taken down an army a thousand strong without a weapon. “I did sleep really well.”
“This bed certainly helped.” Lie. If she was text to me, the floor would feel comfortable.
Esme’s smile widened. A ray of sun broke through the window, highlighting her face, and I nearly passed out. “I can’t tell if I’m surprised or not. I half expected Caspian to shove us into a cell with just a pillow.”
"My back would not be able to handle that again.”
I hate you, the Bond promptly snapped. I agreed.
Watching Esme’s face fall, her smile disappear as my words brought back old memories…
I’d voluntarily walk back into that cell if it meant I didn’t have to see that expression ever again.
She pushed away, turning her back to me as she got up to stand.
“Esme,” I called after her, hating that I’d so stupidly shattered the moment.
“We need to get ready,” she said dismissively, disappearing into the bathroom with a firm click of the lock.
I didn’t get up for several minutes, only did after I’d let the Bond mercilessly beat me down.
?
The first meeting of the day was, incidentally, a highly public lunch.
I couldn’t tell whether the location was intentional or not. We’d done well enough last night in that bar, but things always seemed a little different in the daylight.
Esme was the one to ask, as we all took our seats at the large table tucked in the corner of the room.
“As you can imagine, outside of Pax, my people are not very used to seeing Virterrans,” Caspian said, calmly folding his napkin over his crossed legs. He was in a simpler outfit today, a tailored shirt and pants. Both that near-impossible black fabric that Esme had found when we checked on Roger.
“The same goes on our end,” Bellamy responded. “In fact, save for those who have Crossed, no one has seen anyone from Muli.”
Caspian’s face lightened with something close to humor. “And how have they filled in the blanks? I’m curious what exaggerated form we take on your world.”
Ah, so the young prince wasn’t as naive as I’d initially thought. A little green, certainly. Maybe hadn’t been out in the world long enough to think on his feet perfectly, but he had a brain.
Bellamy smiled elegantly. “I think you’d be quite flattered. Most depictions focus on the fact that Muli tends to be stronger and taller.”
An honest answer. Just one that didn’t capture the fringe interpretations, painting Muli as brutes who hoarded resources to build their strength.
Elijah was the one to call her on it. “And the term sun-stealers would be news to you, then?”
Esme did a piss poor job of hiding her smirk, and I couldn’t stop my hand from floating to her knee to let her know that I’d seen it.
Whereas last night she’d subtly pressed her knee back into my hand (I was a fucking saint for not sliding my hand up her thigh after that move), now, the muscle in her leg bunched up.
God, we needed to talk about what happened. Whatever she’d done that had made her so ashamed, surely talking about it would take away some of the intensity.
Even then, I knew that she would have to volunteer the information. Even if it felt like walking over hot coals to wait, all I could do was make her feel like anything she shared about the Bond was normal.
To be fair, it was. Stealing my clothes and sleeping at the foot of my bed seemed like perfectly reasonable courses of action, especially in light of how much of an asshole the Bond could be.
“I didn’t say that,” Bellamy said, seemingly covering a laugh of her own.
“I’m sure your depiction of us is flawless, then?” Soren tacked on.
“That is exactly why I chose to hold this meeting in public,” Caspian said, before pausing so that someone could place a rattling cup of coffee in front of him. For as hard as the poor kid’s hands were shaking, he really only managed to spill a few drops.
When he scurried away, Caspian continued, “As you can see, there is fear for your people I’d like to dispel. Especially if we hope to encourage further integration between our worlds.”