Sagan #3
“Hire who you need and we’ll make it work. Get the background checks—talk to Velle and Benson. Immediately.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“She does look like she’s going to drop most of the time,” Zevran said under his breath as I reached him. “She fakes it in front of you, but I saw her asleep in the dining hall on her food.”
“Yeah, that’s a level of crazy we don’t need,” I mumbled. “Thank you for letting me know, but please make sure we know that sooner.”
“You’re not easy to reach with all the issues. Validly but…”
That was fair and I said as much.
And he said how gorgeous I looked, which made me flush. He was wearing gray slacks and a teal sweater that matched the streaks in his hair from his dragon. It was a good look on him and he knew it.
He gestured for us to go… But then went to put his hand on my lower back, which I wasn’t a fan of.
I dodged it gracefully, acting like I was turning to talk to someone on my way out, but he clearly caught on. He seemed upset, but by the time we’d reached the vehicles, he seemed more confused.
“Please remember that I didn’t choose any of you,” I said quietly as we drove along. “Yes, I agreed to go to dinner with you but…”
“We all had the chance to accept this or not. It was forced on you,” he finished for me. “I think I keep forgetting that since it seems to have worked out for you.” He winced when I gave him the look he deserved. “That came out really wrong.”
“I’ll wait for you to correct it then,” I offered, trying to not jump on him.
He sighed and picked something off his sweater that definitely wasn’t there.
“There’s no easy way for you to find mates with how things happened.
It wasn’t going to go like how it did for your parents.
I meant… We all know you’ve clicked with Joris at least.” He frowned.
“Sometimes it seems like you want to push Onyx away as much as accept him.”
“Moving on,” I drawled.
“Sorry, right, but…” He sighed again. “It seems like you got on board with the plan no matter how it started.” He opened his mouth but then closed it.
“I’m an asshole. I was going to say you’ve had months to accept this was your reality now, but you’re right.
This isn’t like accepting you’re now queen. You didn’t…”
“I did choose that by accepting the crown,” I muttered. “I’ve accepted dates and moved forward with this. You’re saying that you saw it as the same.”
He studied me for several moments. “I honestly don’t know what I’m trying to say or if that’s what I think.
I never thought I’d maybe find a mate this way either.
I think I lied to myself that you were now fine with it because otherwise I’m part of the fucking problem and I hate that.
I hate that even if I was hesitant, I agreed, and that made me part of your problem. ”
I studied him back. “I think under other circumstances I wouldn’t have objected to us having dinner without pressure. I accepted all of this to keep the peace. I don’t blame any of you because you were pressured too. I just simply can’t pretend this is a normal date or…”
“Let us touch you like you might if you’d accepted a normal date.”
Yes. Exactly that, and I was glad he put it together. That helped because I was still struggling with it all as well.
Funny, right? I didn’t just jump on board with this madness after a few months… Even if I ignored him saying I would find mates. I still wasn’t agreeing to that no matter how many said it now like it was a given.
“Well, hopefully I’m not… Friends? Should we just try to spend time as friends and see if we like each other even that way?” he asked as the vehicles stopped.
“I’d like that,” I accepted, more than willing to give him that. “I think I have to at least be your friend a bit since you brought Andra into my life and I adore her.”
“She adores you.” He said as we were let out of the vehicle. “She made it clear if things don’t work out, you get her in the ‘divorce.’”
I laughed. That was funny and something she would totally say. I completely believed that.
“It feels weird not opening the car door for a date,” he muttered as we approached the restaurant. He sighed as my guard opened the door. “Or anything normal.”
“Sorry, it’s what I’m used to,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
“I’m pouting,” he grumbled. “I planned something I thought you would love and I’m mucking it up, so now I’m pouting.”
That was actually really cute of him to admit, and I tried not to smile. Then I saw what type of restaurant we were at and I froze.
“I got us a private room and no one will judge,” he said quietly but then snorted. “I won’t. I’m a slob when I eat at places like this, but I love them.” He cleared his throat. “And I had a feeling you’ve never been to one.”
A seafood boil restaurant? No, absolutely not. Eating with your hands and dripping all over the place wasn’t regal at all.
But I’d always wanted to try it. I’d been born in a coastal city with some of the best seafood in the world and never had it.
“Friends don’t judge,” I… Offered? It seemed like an olive branch that he gladly accepted, so that was good.