Chapter 13
Sophia
I hug my pillow, comforted a little by the weight of my covers over me.
It's not much, but at least it's something.
I don't want to be as sad as this. Or to be so affected by what Lucas chose to do.
I understand that he felt as if he had no choice but to take the offer to spy on me and my brother.
If I had to choose between doing something that easy, or leaving my family with more problems, I'd choose to do it too.
But that's not what hurts the most. He heard the potential mate bond and didn't cut things off immediately.
Worse, he sent me my shoe with the intention of asking me on a date knowing that he was supposed to be reporting back about what I get up to when Franz isn't around.
Even if he did stop after he realised he liked me more than that, it doesn't change the fact that he decided to ask me out in the first place.
And worse than that, he didn't even tell me. He let me find out on my own by accident.
I should be angrier than I am, but instead, I can just feel a deep well of sadness within me that's impossible to ignore.
A loud sob escapes me and I bury my head again. Why am I letting it bother me so much? I should be able to turn my hurt and sadness into a determination never to talk to him ever again.
Instead, there's a small part of me that's desperate to see him and wants to tell him that I forgive him and everything is okay again. In reality, I know it's not as simple as that. I may want to forgive him, but I can't. He broke my trust in a way I can't ignore.
My bedroom door creaks as it opens. Despite not wanting to, I lift my arm and look over to it to find my new best friend in the doorway. She doesn't look like the world is ending, even if it feels that way to me.
"Hey," she says. "I've brought you some tea." She brings it over and sets it down on the table.
"Thanks," I mumble.
"Oh, Sophia." She sits down on my bed and reaches out to touch my shoulder.
I blink, letting a tear run down my cheek.
"There's a party tonight," she says.
"I don't want to party."
"It might make you feel better?" she suggests. "I know it's only been a week, but some fun and dancing might be good for you."
"I don't want to run into him," I murmur into my pillow.
"You won't. I've never seen him at any of the parties before."
"That's where we met." And how this whole mess started. I'm sure he told Franz about finding me by the pool drunk. I'm surprised my parents haven't called me to tell me off for that one. But I guess if they had, then I'd have known that someone was revealing things they shouldn't.
"That was an exception. But it's okay, even if he is there, we'll make sure he doesn't bother you, I promise."
I believe that she'll do everything she can.
It's me that I don't trust. What's going to happen if I see him?
I don't want to yell at him in front of everyone, but I also don't want to just forgive him and let it all slide.
The problem is that those seem to be the two most likely outcomes of me running into Lucas at a party.
"I know it's not what you want, but it's been a week. Don't let him steal more of your time," she says. "He’s not worth it.
I sigh and shift in the bed, so I'm sitting up properly.
"It's Drake's birthday, so you know it's going to be a good one," she says, trying to entice me with the promise of a good party. "And you had fun last time."
"Until I met Lucas," I mutter.
"Yes, but the rest of it was fun, right?"
"True."
"Then come. We'll play all of the games we can to distract you, and we'll dance. I'll even hold back your hair if you need to hurl."
I snort. "I won't get that drunk."
"But you can if you want to."
I shake my head. "I don't like getting that way." I let myself get too drunk at the party where I met Lucas, and I'm not going to let that happen again. I need to pay more attention when I'm playing drinking games so it doesn't happen again.
"Then I'll make sure that you don't drink more than you should." Charlotte reaches out and takes my hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know we haven't known one another very long, but I promise I'm here to watch your back. That's what friends are for."
I sniff and wipe away a tear with my free hand. "Thank you."
"Always," she assures me. "And if you really don't want to go tonight, I'm not going to make you. It's your choice."
"I'll come," I decide. "You're right about me needing to distract myself. It's better than staying here and feeling sorry for myself."
And Lucas will stay away if he has any sense. If he doesn't, then I'll know he's probably still reporting back after all.
"Good. Then I'm going to choose you a killer outfit, and you should go shower," she instructs.
"Why do you get to pick what I wear?" I ask.
"Because you've let me go through your wardrobe enough times that I know there are some killer outfits in there, and dressing you up in one of them sounds fun. All I want in return is to borrow your green clutch bag."
"You can borrow whatever you want."
"Even the Crown Jewels?"
"Sorry, they're not mine to lend out. I don't have any here either." They're all back in the demon realm under lock and key.
Her shoulders sag in disappointment. "Not even a tiara?"
"Technically, a tiara of my own would belong to me and not the Crown. But no, I don't have one here."
"What if you need one?"
She seems genuinely interested, which I suppose makes sense. This is the kind of thing I've grown up knowing, but she's never had someone to ask.
"There's one in a safety deposit box at the bank. And if I can't get to that one, then someone would bring one over from either my demon realm, or from Queen Amara's realm."
Her mouth falls open. "You're related to Queen Amara?" she whispers.
"Yes? Didn't you know that?"
She shakes her head.
"She's married to my uncle."
"Oh, I see. I should have guessed."
"Potentially," I say with a smile. "The demon realm royal families have been intermarrying for as long as they've existed."
She shrugs. I didn't pay much attention in history."
"Ah, that explains it." I smile at her to reassure her that it's nothing to worry about.
I rise to my feet and grab the towel from the radiator so I can head to the shower, grateful that the academy has ensuite bathrooms and I don't have to share with anyone I don't want to.
Charlotte is already engrossed in my wardrobe in an attempt to find me the perfect outfit. I don't know what she'll pick, but it doesn't matter. Everything in there is my style and royalty-approved. Which is critical when both criteria are important.
"Have fun with my closet," I say as I slip into the bathroom.
"Oh, I will," she promises.
I shake my head in amusement, already feeling a little better about things. My heart still hurts, and my eyes still ache from the tears, but it helps to have something to distract myself with, even if it's only for one night.