Chapter Seven
IT’S OKAY, IT’S OKAY, it’s okay.
I didn’t really know what to expect after falling asleep in Arkane’s arms. But one thing I know I didn’t want to see waking up is the empty space next to me.
The sheets are cold. That’s the part I keep circling back to.
Not just empty, but cold. He’s been gone long enough that the warmth he left behind has gone with him, and that’s how I know, without having to check a clock, that he didn’t linger.
He didn’t wait for me to wake up. He didn’t think about sticking around for the morning.
But that’s fine.
I’m a big girl.
It’s not like he took my V-card last night or something. Things happened, but not all things. And that’s because—
He lost interest in me.
He realizes he’s not into me.
You know what?
I don’t care why that is. I’m just going to live with it, and keep moving forward, no looking back. It’s one of the few good things I learned from Mom, who is the world’s expert on not carrying any kind of baggage, never mind if said baggage are actual people with actual feelings.
So yeah...I’m gonna be okay.
I drag myself out of bed and head to the bathroom, and I’m halfway to the shower before my body catches up to my brain and reminds me what happened last night.
Which is when the shock finally lands.
I brace one hand against the cool tile, because my knees have stopped being willing to carry me without assistance, and for a moment all I can do is stare at the drain while my mind replays the worst of it—the way he said look at me, Tiara in a voice I’ve never heard come out of a human being, and my surrender.
How the moment his mouth touched mine, my whole body just...capitulated. Like it had been waiting for him.
The mortification is immediate.
How can I have surrendered myself so easily to him?
I, Tiara Sauller, who has made exactly one decent decision her entire life, which is to not turn out like her mother—
I just spent last night proving I’m no better at any of this than Mom ever was.
And now that same man I trusted is gone, and despair has started creeping in behind the mortification.
If he was going to stay, he would have stayed.
If he’d felt any of what I felt last night, he would still be here.
The cold sheets are the answer to a question I wasn’t brave enough to ask.
I step into the shower, and the water’s hot, hotter than I’d normally set it, and I stand there and let the water do the thing I refuse to let myself do, which is cry.
It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.
By the time I turn the water off, I’ve decided something. I’m going to survive this. I’m going to go downstairs, have breakfast with his family like a normal person, and pretend that the man who broke me apart last night and left before I woke up is just another person at the table.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I find myself going through my stuff in hopes that I find something decent, and five minutes later, the best I’ve come up with is a loose floral dress, a never-been-used hand-me-down from Mom. One of her exes gave it to her as a gift, but she didn’t like it because the neckline was too high.
I put it on.
There’s the sound of morning activity coming from below when I step out of my room, and I use it as a map to find my way around this huge, huge house that Icelle calls home.
Eventually, I find my way to the dining room. Icelle’s already there with Raiden, the two of them talking quietly, and it just makes me wonder.
Does Raiden know about Icelle’s secret crush?
“Good morning.” Icelle rises to her feet as she greets me, and so does Raiden.
“G-Good morning.”
I grew up in a home where adults are more like vampires—I only see them at night—but I manage to strangle the words out because this family’s manners are impeccable, and it’s impossible not to have them rub off on me.
“Breakfast should be served in a couple of minutes. Have a seat first.” Raiden sounds so mature for his age. He’s even pulling my chair out—
“Let me do that.”
The voice makes me jerk in surprise, but there’s no time for me to process this since Arkane is already right next to me, and my mind is saying, don’t look up, don’t look up, but my heart is a lot more foolish, and...yeah.
I end up listening to my foolish heart.
I look up, and oh.
He’s already gazing down at me with gleaming eyes that say he’s simply been waiting for me to look up.
And that’s when it happens.
Because one look into his dark eyes, and everything I walked downstairs carrying—the shock, the mortification, the despair, the rehearsed scripts for how I was going to pretend last night didn’t gut me—all of it just...
Melts.
Because the darkness in his eyes is answering me.
I don’t know how else to explain it. His eyes are telling me I was wrong. About all of it. He didn’t leave because he was finished with me.
And I have no idea why I believe that from a look, but I do.
“Good morning, princess.”
It’s that old joke again. My name is Tiara, and people start calling me princess. I used to hate it because the word can’t be any further from the truth. But for some reason, because it’s someone like Arkane, who’s as princely as they come even without the royal blood—
Why do I really feel like a princess when it’s Arkane who calls me—
Oh!
Wait!
Stop!
But it’s already too late. He’s gently peeled off the plaster I’ve had on the side of my neck even before leaving the jet.
“There.” His voice is soft and gentle. “That’s better.” And so is his touch as he rubs that tiny branded spot on the side of my neck. “It’s not something you’re supposed to hide. You’re mine, after all—”
Icelle raises a brow (no subtitles needed for that one) and Raiden starts snickering again while all I can do is sputter—
“Just like I’m yours.”
Aaaaaaah.
I don’t even have time to process what he’s just said before he’s bending his head close to mine, his voice dropping to a whisper that’s meant for me alone as he guides me gently into the chair.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t around when you woke up. I didn’t want people to know I was—”
I slam my foot on his in panic.
He winces. Barely. The tiniest flinch, so small you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but I see it, and something in my chest goes warm.
“Does that mean you accept my apology?”
“It means shut up and go away," I mutter under my breath.
He chuckles.
“I’ll miss you too, princess.”
Then he kisses the top of my head, gently guides me the rest of the way down into the chair, and straightens.
“I’ll see you later.”
He walks out of the room, and at that time, it didn’t really sink in to me, how Arkane isn’t the type to ever look back. Later, when it’s already too late, I’d find myself wishing it did, because that would’ve made a world of difference.
But because it didn’t...
The rest of the family arrives in quick succession, and I find myself enveloped in this strange, cozy sense of warmth even when everyone starts calling me princess, and I do mean everyone, their very posh and dignified parents included.
The ribbing continues, and I’m just feeling warmer and warmer—
Could this be the difference between a house and a home?