Chapter 50 #2
"It’s fine, really," Myra said, tugging the sleeves of her shirt down. Her gaze swept across the room. A pile of pointe shoes sat in the corner. Then she noted the way Laurince sat comfortably in the chair, how he didn’t look around the room to take it all in like he normally did when entering an unfamiliar place, his casual tone with Ferencia.
Myra’s lips parted.
Ferencia had to be the dance instructor’s daughter. The one Laurince had a crush on growing up. How long ago was that crush? Had he gotten over it?
"Your brother will not be happy to see you, Your Majesty," Ferencia said, changing the topic.
"Is that so?" Rian asked, his tone taking on a sharp edge.
"We all know Sebastian is not one to hide his feelings. He’s grown quite comfortable on that throne," Ferencia explained.
"You mean my throne," Rian said through clenched teeth.
Ferencia nibbled on her thumbnail but quickly removed it when her eyes met Myra’s. "This conversation would be much easier over some brandy, don’t you think?" she asked, strolling toward a side table. "I believe I still have your favorite, Laurince."
"Fine," Laurince mumbled, raking a hand through his hair.
Myra tried—and failed—not to think about why Ferencia had Laurince’s favorite brandy. Myra didn’t even know his favorite brandy, let alone that he even liked the alcohol.
Ferencia grabbed the decanter and peered into it. "Hmm," she hummed, shaking the bottle. "We seem to be out. Let me run and grab some."
"That’s really unnecessary," Laurince argued.
"Oh, nonsense. I’ll just be a moment," she said, heading for the door.
"But—"
Ferencia was already gone, though, the door clicking shut behind her.
Laurince sank back into his chair. "Stubborn woman," he muttered.
"She always was," Rian said with a roll of his eyes.
"So…are you two…?" The question slipped from Myra’s mouth before she could stop herself, the jealousy reaching a tipping point.
"We were," Laurince admitted, straightforward.
"Oh," Myra said, fiddling with her fingers.
Laurince paused his fidgeting and looked up at her. He arched a brow. "Are you…jealous?"
"What?" Myra blurted. "No, of course not. Why would I be?"
"She’s definitely jealous," Rian agreed with a small smirk. "Did you see how her jaw ticked when Ferencia mentioned having your favorite brandy?"
"I am not jealous."
"If you say so, Haze," Laurince said with a wry grin.
She hated how her body reacted to the nickname.
Laurince leaned toward her. "If it’s any consolation, I think Ferencia is more jealous than you are."
Rian snorted, claiming the seat next to Myra. "Without a doubt. I thought she was going to punch you the moment she saw you holding hands with Mys."
"She wouldn’t," Myra said with a gasp.
"Oh, Ferencia has done far worse," Rian claimed.
Myra looked to Laurince for confirmation, and he shrugged.
"She nearly cut my head off when I ended things with her," Laurince said nonchalantly. "And that’s not an exaggeration."
"When did you end things? It seems…" Myra hesitated.
"Recent?" Laurince supplied.
She nodded.
He scratched the back of his head. "I suppose it is, although it feels like years ago now.
After the fire, I was focused on making sure Rian was all right.
However, when no one would let me see him, I refused to listen.
I searched for him everywhere. It took up most of my time and energy, and Ferencia grew annoyed since I was spending less time with her. "
"Isn’t that a little…" Myra bit her lip, not wanting to insult the woman whom she barely knew, especially one who had saved them from getting caught.
"Selfish? Callous? Rude?" Rian suggested with a shake of his head.
Laurince sighed in agreement. "I ended things after that."
"I would have loved to see how that went," Rian said, resting his chin atop his palm.
Laurince snorted. "I’m sure you would have gotten a kick out of it."
Rian shrugged, but didn’t deny it.
"Anything else you want to know, Haze?" Laurince asked.
"Oh, no. I wasn’t trying to pry. Your history is none of my business," Myra said, leaning back.
"I really don’t mind. I’m sure if I met any of your partners, I would be five times as jealous as you are now."
"I already said—"
"You’re not jealous," Laurince said in playful mockery, pulling a small smile from Myra that she tried to stifle.
"Well, you don’t have to worry about meeting any of mine," she said.
"And why’s that?"
"They were Ardentolian guards. Well, the last one was actually a Pontian spy pretending to be a guard."
"Oh, a Pontian, hmm? Did he also have one of your special abilities?"
Myra chuckled. "Yes, he did."
Laurince leaned closer, his knees knocking into hers. "So, tell me, Haze. What was so special about him?"
"His hearing."
"His hearing?" Laurince repeated.
"Yes, he could hear very well."
The door swung open then, and they all turned toward it. But it wasn’t Ferencia who stood in the doorway. Myra’s jaw hung open, her neck flushing red as fear skated up her skin.
"Exceptionally well, actually."
"Armen?" Myra stammered as she gaped at her former partner.
Armen sneered at her, flashing sharp, white teeth as he leaned an arm against the threshold. "Hello there, Haze. It’s been a while."