Chapter 11
For the first time all week, I have a morning off.
I’d prefer I didn’t, given Virek is incredibly put out with me and has sidelined me until we have a new “official” lead for me to follow, but I’m choosing to see the silver lining of this free time.
I’m in trousers and a jumper, my hair piled high in a bun on top of my head, and I have plenty of places to hide my gun.
I’ve been missing the feeling of safety and security that comes with it.
“You need that feeling more than ever,” I mutter to myself and slip into my favorite bakery to wait for the prince.
I texted him last night after I got home, asking if he would meet me here to discuss what we learned last night, and he responded almost an hour later. He agreed to come, but I can’t help but wonder if it’ll be Hex who shows up.
Or if it’ll be his brother.
As I settle at an empty table in the corner of the bakery with the door in my sightline, I can’t stop thinking about the prince’s final shot in his contest against Northam.
I had my doubts throughout dinner, but at that point I was convinced I was imagining things.
Mad things, like the idea that Hex is so determined to avoid me that he would send his twin in his stead.
Even Hex wouldn’t stoop to something so ridiculous, and yet…
Hex would never willingly lose. And I’ve seen him fire a bow often enough that I know he’s not one to hesitate. He shoots with speed and confidence because he has been training his entire life.
But Sander?
It’s Hex I need in this investigation, not his brother.
Movement catches my eye as the prince steps into the bakery and scans the room, then fixes his gaze on me.
He smiles, the gesture warm and genuine for only a moment before it shifts into his usual smirk, and I resist the urge to squirm in my seat.
That first smile only compounds my belief that I haven’t been dealing with one Alverra alone.
Now is not the time for me to be doubting my partner, but I can’t ignore evidence.
He joins me at my table, sitting at an angle like he wants to keep the bakery entrance in his periphery, and then his eyes rake over me as his nose wrinkles. “You look terrible, Storme,” he says with a chuckle.
I scowl and shake off some of the unease making my stomach churn. Maybe he really is Hex this morning. Maybe I’m losing my mind all around because I can’t crack this case and we’re running out of time to keep the crown safe. “Thanks for that, Prince.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
Not really, but I don’t want to tell him that. “Virek had plenty to say about last night’s party.”
“Such as?” He plants his feet on one of the other chairs at our table and leans back with his arms folded over his chest, looking far too comfortable. “Don’t tell me he’s decided Northam is the mastermind.”
A small laugh escapes me, helping me relax a little more. “I don’t think even Virek is that stupid. No, he’s still stuck on Blackmere and has an agent looking into Eloise now.”
“As long as that agent isn’t you, I’m alright with that.”
I lift an eyebrow and ignore the jealousy that flares to life in my chest. He hasn’t given me any hints that he has any lingering interest in Eloise Blackmere, and somehow I still hate the idea of him thinking about her at all. “Do you think she’s involved?” I ask with a croak in my voice.
Hex’s lips curl up in a lopsided smile as he studies me. “Nah. But if Virek is chasing bad leads, maybe that’ll give you a chance to do the real detective work this weekend without him jabbering in your ear the whole time.”
Grimacing, I run my finger around a tea stain on the table’s surface. “That’s where this gets complicated. You have access to Fennor’s retreat this weekend, but I don’t.”
“You’re going to let that stop you?”
I look up in surprise and take in the intense look in his eyes. He’s serious. “I’m in the middle of an active investigation, and without permission from my supervisor, I can’t up and leave Invem for an entire weekend without cause.”
He scoffs. “You have cause. You’re the only reason I agreed to the retreat in the first place, and you know as well as I do that there’s something shady about Greywick.”
Virek would disagree, even after listening to the recordings from our ear buds, which is why he’s forced me to take the day off. He thinks I’m letting myself get distracted and ignoring clear proof that Blackmere should still be our primary suspect.
In Virek’s defense, Greywick didn’t say anything incriminating last night. But Northam wasn’t afraid of Alaric Blackmere, and Lord Fennor didn’t invite Hex to his retreat because he wants to improve the weekend’s entertainment level. No, something the prince did caught Fennor’s attention.
“What did Blackmere say to Greywick?” I ask.
Hex’s eyebrows rise, and his smile has a proud tilt to it. “He said Greywick can’t use him anymore. I’m assuming ‘him’ refers to Northam.”
Cursing under my breath, I tuck that away with everything else. “Does that mean Northam is only a pawn?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
It’s not enough. It feels like every clue we find makes the puzzle that much bigger. “We still don’t have any firm answers to anything, though. This is why I asked you to meet me here.”
Hex glances around. “In a random bakery?”
“It isn’t random.” I roll my eyes but can’t hold back a smile as I take in the familiar sweet scent of bread and pastries. “I used to come here all the time as a girl. My parents had to be at work early, and the owner kept an eye on me until I could take the bus to school.”
Hex studies the bakery more closely for a moment, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows when he looks at me again. “I’ve never heard you talk about your family.”
My heart feels like it does a sort of swooping motion in my chest, half because of what he said and half because of the depth of his gaze. “You’ve never asked.”
Silence settles around us. It isn’t awkward, necessarily, but neither is it comfortable.
For how long we’ve known each other, Hex and I don’t really know each other.
From the very first day we met at sixteen, when I debated against him in an ethics class and tore his flimsy argument apart, there’s been friction between us, made worse each time we went head-to-head. And then our final exams came, and…
And he’s hated me ever since.
Like he’s reading my mind, the prince frowns and drops his gaze as he says, “What if I asked now? Could…” He taps his fingers on the table, a nervous habit he’s had for as long as I’ve known him.
Maybe I’m not mad, and maybe Sander was at the dinner party last night.
But this is Hex. “Could we move past our school days?”
My jaw drops. “What?”
He sits up and shrugs, still without looking at me. “I figure it’s been long enough, yeah?”
“I’m not the one who’s been holding a grudge for a decade,” I argue, still baffled by this change of topic. “I was trying to help you; I never meant it as an insult.”
“But I took it as one.” He almost says that as a question, as if he isn’t sure.
He studies me for a moment, then sits up and rests his elbows on the table.
With him close like this, it feels like his blue eyes can see straight through me, and I shiver beneath his gaze.
He doesn’t even have to touch me to affect me.
But oh, how I like it when he does touch me. Memories of the various times he’s held me this week have been just as prevalent as thoughts about the investigation, to the point where I couldn’t even argue with Virek after the dinner when he said I’m distracted.
“Walk me through it, Storme,” the prince says, the words low and surprisingly gentle. “Pretend it wasn’t me, and tell me your side of the story so I can understand.”
“We have more important things to discuss right now.”
His expression hardens, but only slightly. “You and I need to trust each other, Storme.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “And you don’t trust me.”
“You don’t trust me,” he argues.
Just like with Virek, I can’t say that he’s wrong. Not if I’m thinking he and his twin are tag-teaming things. But if I can’t trust Hex, how am I supposed to do my job? I need him. Without him, I would have been stuck listening to chatter and hoping for clues I might never have found.
“Okay,” I whisper. “We can talk.” Discomfort settles over me, hot and heavy, but I can handle this. It could be my only chance to clear the air with him, and if it means we can be more honest with each other, then things can only go up from here.
But where do I start?
“That mentorship was my best chance at getting hired by the RIA,” I say first, pausing to gauge his reaction.
He only nods once and waits for me to continue.
“I was only able to go through training because of a scholarship, and I didn’t have any connections or referrals.
You’ve seen how small the RIA is, and it’s nearly impossible to get into the organization without someone with clout paving the way.
I needed top marks because I needed the mentorship. ”
“And I took that away from you,” he says, some bite to his words.
I scoff. “I gave it to you, which is exactly why I don’t understand how you could hate me all this time.
We were in school together for three years, so I know how much you hate to lose.
” Pinching my lips in a thin line, I gaze at the table between us so I don’t have to see his expression.
“But when I saw your face after you took second place, it was obvious that that one hit you hard. I couldn’t stomach the idea of being the cause of that pain. ”
And the part I can’t tell him: I was so in love with him that I hoped he would finally love me back if I made that sacrifice.
“You gave up the mentorship—your best chance at chasing your dream—because you felt bad for me?” Hex’s voice is smaller than I’ve ever heard it, but I can’t tell what emotions are behind it.
I glance up, no matter how afraid I am of what I’ll find. But Hex isn’t angry. Or hurt. He looks… I’m not sure I can put a word to his soft expression, but the look he’s giving me warms me from the inside out and is something I’ve never seen from him before.
“I’m sorry, Storme.”
No matter how soft his tone, those words hit me straight in the gut and make it impossible to breathe. “What?”
He swallows and clenches his jaw as he gazes down at the table again. “You shouldn’t have had to sacrifice your future for someone else’s, and you deserved recognition more than anyone.” He looks up, and everything about him is gentle and genuine. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know how to react. I’ve wanted to hear those words from him for so long that it doesn’t feel real now, like it’s someone else saying it and not the man I’ve been hopelessly pining after for nearly half my life. But is it him saying that, or…?
Luckily, I’m saved from having to find a coherent response by a person walking into the bakery and pulling my attention away from the prince. But as soon as I catch sight of the new arrival, I’m no less flustered than I was a second ago. “Callum?”
“Am I late?” he asks and drops a bag on the table in front of me. Hex jumps to his feet, but Callum grabs a chair and drags it to our table like we were expecting him. He plops down with a sharp exhale, fixing his eyes on me. When I simply stare at him, he frowns. “What?”