A Cruel Kindness

Chapter 21

Bellamy

My back was ramrod straight as the same handmaiden that had been with me for twenty years curled my hair and pinned it up on my head to cool.

She had stopped trying to make conversation, even though it was clear she was bursting at the seam with questions, after my third muttered, one word response.

It had been two hours since I’d seen Soren.

And boy, did the Bond notice.

I was doing serious mental exercises trying to quiet its voice.

I slipped a little, letting it explode into the forefront of my mind.

WHERE IS HE? it demanded.

When I sighed, and internally responded, I don’t know , that only made it angrier, which made my skin more sensitive, my heart ache harder.

My mother sat next to me, completely silent as she watched my handmaiden’s work with a careful eye. There couldn’t be a hair out of place for my grand return.

“Make sure you spray her hair at the end,” she instructed my handmaiden. “God knows what Muli did to its health.”

In fact, my hair was probably in a better state than it was when I was at court. I took care of myself, but that was because it made me feel calmer, more settled in my own skin. The tight hairstyles I had to wear when I was here would give me such bad headaches, it would disable me for days after.

I hadn’t had a headache since I’d been Matched.

I breathed in, grasping for strength. The Bond didn’t understand that I was already under immense pressure dealing with my parents again. My mother had no filter, deeming criticism to be as normal as passive small talk.

My father was clearly as politically savvy as ever and hadn’t spared me more than two sentences of welcome before he disappeared into a meeting. He instructed me that he needed to meet with me in the morning, to which I’d agreed, so long as it was in private.

I’d deliver the envelope then.

I really wanted Soren there with me, but I knew that wasn’t happening.

When my mother left to go attend to the gala set up, I was able to breathe enough to engage Laura, my handmaiden, in conversation. Her children were doing well, which was a relief.

I did my own makeup, while several rows of clothing were brought in with dresses hanging from the wire racks. I enjoyed clothing and wearing nice, well crafted pieces.

Normally it was a hard time picking between all the wonderful options, but I knew exactly what I wanted to wear tonight. I leafed through the collection until I found what I was looking for.

The only backless dress presented to me, a long black gown with a low cut back and a lightly shimmering fabric. It was arguably rather risque for court, but I didn’t give a damn.

My mother left to get ready herself, thank God, or else there was no way she'd let me wear this.

Laura’s eyes were glued to my back as she helped me change and I could see the questionings burgeoning.

“I don’t like fabric touching it all that much,” I explained softly. “Yes, Soren has the exact same one.”

Laura blinked up guiltily, smiling at me as she zipped the dress. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with my appearance, save the pain in my eyes.

I knew that would go away the second I was back with Soren and the Bond was appeased.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy my time alone, or that I didn’t think that was important. But Soren was my partner in all of this. I liked him.

And until we gave the Bond what it truly craved, able to actually satiate for some time, I would remain in slight pain while we were apart.

“Ready,” I told Laura, in a hurry to make it out of my rooms. I was feeling far too restless for this.

“Princess, wait!” she called after me when I took a step out the door. I turned to find her holding up my shoes with an expectant look on her face.

Right. I was barefoot.

Can you please be quiet for one second so I don’t embarrass myself in front of the entire court? I begged the Bond silently, sending it sulking to the corner of my mind.

It would get its relief in five minutes, tops. The least it could do was let me put my shoes on.

I stepped into my heels, feeling a small ache tickle the back of my heart. I’d really missed these, even though I was quite attached to my boots waiting for me back on Muli.

Distantly, I thought of how Lucky and Clover felt. Did they know we were gone? Were they okay?

The second the straps of my heels were laced, I all but sprinted out the door. I could feel Soren close, maybe right around the—

Ah, there he was.

The weight of relief was so shocking I almost fell over.

But once it cleared, able to see him standing in front of me, an entirely different emotion started forming.

He was … well, it was just that—he … he was in a suit. A perfectly fitting, well pressed suit that made him look equal parts devilish and strong.

When my eyes finally made their way up to his face, he was looking at me with a shocked expression, his jaw slack as his eyes bounced all over my form.

Slowly, I turned, needing to show him the fact that I’d left our Mark exposed when his had to be covered.

Before I even made it back to face him, he was at my back, pulling me flush to his chest while his nose brushed through the fall of my hair. “It’s like you’re trying to make us miss this party entirely.”

He’d made jokes of that nature before, but now they felt serious, foreshadowing. “I wouldn’t be mad about that,” I whispered.

“Bell,” he said, sounding like he was in physical pain.

I twisted myself to face him, my skin warming pleasantly when his hand slipped from fabric to my bare back. I reached up and brushed my hand over his hair, then down to his face.

He wasn’t wearing a bandage anymore. His cut over his brow was now nothing more than a line of pink skin. Even if it had been an open wound the day before.

He was clean shaven, but he’d kept in the nose ring. Good.

“Are Clover and Lucky okay?” I asked, the question slipping out while I was distracted by taking in the line of his jaw.

I felt Soren’s laugh under my fingers. “They are okay. Even here, they know we’re safe.”

I breathed out in relief and Soren used it as an excuse to pull me to him tighter. We stayed there for a moment just … holding each other.

It wasn’t until Laura walked out of my room and her eyes went wide, like she’d caught us fully in the throes of passion, that Soren took a reluctant step away from me. His hand simply slipped a few inches up my back.

This was so unnatural, tempering how I wanted to be with him. I’d never noticed how conservative court was before this because I’d never had anyone that I wanted to touch like this.

I was grateful that all the courting I was subject to had to stop at a light kiss on my knuckles.

“I’m meant to escort the Princess to the ball,” Laura said uneasily, not looking at Soren.

“Great,” he said, smile in his voice. “You can escort us both.”

Laura wavered, but eventually turned down the hall.

“How did you shake your family?” I asked as we walked, my voice at a whisper.

“The tunnels,” Soren responded. Ah, the tunnels. I’d had fun exploring those when I was younger. It was a complex system that routed through every Royal bedroom and to a few closets, moving down to an underground bunker that would house us if there was ever an attack on the palace.

It was also convenient for sneaking around.

“There you are!” Soren’s mother chastised, finding us after a few minutes of walking. That sparked a moment of nostalgia, remembering how many times I’d heard his mother say that exact thing when Soren had been hard to control in his teenage years.

I’d always been … fine, I had a small crush on him. I was living in rather comfortable denial of that fact for years, until I was forced to confront it.

From his mother actually.

The moment I’d turned sixteen, I’d been subject to countless Royals or other powerful families waxing poetic about my beauty. I liked the way I looked, but my first reaction had always been that people were lying to me, a result of my mother's years of criticism.

Until Soren’s mother commented on it one day and my first thought was maybe she’ll offer marriage .

We’d ended up being bonded much more permanently than marriage.

As if he could sense the direction of my thoughts, Soren’s hand flexed over the tree trunk inked to my back. “I was with Bellamy, Mother. Did I miss something?”

Her eyes, the same color as Soren’s, narrowed. “We were meant to arrive as a family.”

“I arrive with Bellamy.” My cheeks felt hot at the possessiveness in his tone. Around people who didn’t understand the Bond, it felt all the more potent.

“Because you are paranimas ?” His mother quipped.

“Yes.” His answer was hard, final.

Despite how much I liked it, I was ever the peacemaker. “My family instructed me to meet them there. Soren was offering me an escort so I wouldn’t arrive alone. I’m happy to do so if you consider it important for your family to arrive together.”

It gave his mother the option, but also made her seem rude if she took me up on it.

“We will see you inside,” she said, her voice thin.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll go see about your arrival,” Laura said quickly, scurrying off after Soren’s mother.

We followed slowly, these halls as familiar to us as our own face. I’d seen these same light gray walls, almost purple in undertone, covered in large ethereal paintings hanging in silver frames, with that same silver etched into the crown molding a million times.

It really was beautiful.

This had been my home. I’d do anything to protect it, especially if I was in a unique position to do something about it.

I looked up at Soren, spotting a note of wistfulness in his eyes. He missed this, even if he wouldn’t admit it. I wouldn’t press it either. There was no use increasing his pain.

Laura was standing by a set of towering wooden doors, speaking with a member of the guard rapidly, quickly preparing for our arrival.

“You ready?” Soren asked, placing the words close to my ear.

“I’d prefer it if we stayed close,” I said, nerves starting to set in.

“Always, baby.” I could feel his lips pulling into a smile against the shell of my ear and I damn near lost it right there.

I pulled back to find him smiling like the devil. Oh, he so planned that.

His plan came to fruition when the guard opened the doors, exposing us to the entire court, wrapped around each other.

“Princess Bellamy Edelstenne and Soren of House Rystrom,” my father’s voice boomed across the ballroom. Soren kept his hand pressed to my back as we walked down the steps. “ Paranima s who are fighting our enemies to ensure that Vir remains healthy. A demonstration of our strength and the Goddess’s favor.”

And there was the real reason why we were here. Demonstrating the Empire’s strength to renew the conviction to fight this war.

It took a second for anyone to gain the courage to come up and speak to us, but once they did, the floodgates opened so fast we were swept away with the incoming swell of water, pulled into conversation.

House Edelstenne had made themselves known by announcing our arrival.

House Rystrom staked their claim through Soren.

House Astor was two seconds away from asking Soren to remove his shirt so they could compare our Marks.

House Sinclair, Deveraux, and Lystrange all tried to pick our brains about life on Muli, their fascination with war entirely based in the fact that they were so far removed from it

And finally, House Greene, with all the confidence of being the next family in line to the Empire, tried to snap up as much of our attention as possible.

When their son, Ambrose, approached, Soren tossed back his entire flute of champagne and swiped another one.

The conversations around us dwindled, knowing exactly what this meant. The Greene’s attempt at betrothing me to Ambrose was well known.

“Bellamy,” Ambrose said, bending at the waist to greet me. He was tall and rail thin, all his energy that would otherwise be dedicated to building muscle channeled into his horrid personality. “You are looking spectacularly well. I’ve missed you.”

Soren’s champagne flute snapped in half, the stem falling to the floor. I knew what he was feeling. I’d almost broken a poor nurse’s wrist from the same sensation. The apology note I wrote her was hard enough to get out.

I slipped my hand over Soren’s back, pulling him closer. Everyone in this ball would know that we belonged to each other if it was the last thing I did. “Thank you, Ambrose. How have you been?”

He didn’t respond for a while, his leering gaze pinned to the lack of space between me and Soren. So improper. “I must say it is interesting to see a Match as strong as yours in person. How far you two have come from your torrid history.”

Oh, wow. He really was as horribly bold as I pegged him to be. People who had no idea what had gone on behind the scenes were standing within earshot.

It was Soren who answered. “I fail to see how that involved Bellamy at all.”

Such different words from the welcome I’d gotten at the beginning. A testament to how much Soren was willing to own his actions and change.

I respected that tenfold.

“Ambrose!” his father snapped clearly having heard what he said from off to the side. “Come here.”

Hanging his head like a chastised little boy, Ambrose walked over to his father.

Once we were alone, I turned to Soren, patting him on the chest then straightening his tie. “You know, I’m very proud of you. I expected you to blind him.”

“I might. Just under the cover of darkness.”

A laugh jumped out of me, inappropriately loud. I slapped a hand over my mouth while Soren tried and failed to hide a smirk.

Something is wrong , the Bond managed to break through, sending small trickles of panic through me. I had been feeling unsettled, but I thought it was just nerves.

I sent back a promise to be cautious, but I always was.

The swarm stole us again shortly after, enough so that we were pulled apart.

I found myself in the corner of the room, desperately trying to eat something, when I felt a tug on the bottom of my dress.

I looked down to find Flora Greene, Ambrose’s baby sister, staring up at me with wide eyes. “Hi, Bellamy.”

A wide smile broke across my face. “Flora,” I said, crouching down to hug her. When I stood again, she wouldn’t let go of my hands, causing me to slouch a little while we spoke. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Good!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her heels. “I turned five!” She held up one of her hands to demonstrate.

“That’s wonderful, Flora. I’m sorry I missed your party.”

Before Flora could respond, my mother approached. “Sweetheart, if you are going to wear that dress, at least stand up straight while doing so,” my mother said, her voice as sweet as honey. She breezed right past me, that comment as menial to her as the soft brush of wind.

I straightened, not even realized that I’d slouched that severely while talking to Flora.

Shame, hot and biting, flooded my cheeks and brought with it a host of self-doubt that every ounce of confidence I’d fought so hard to earn wasn’t worth a damn.

What was poise even worth if it wasn’t supported by anything underneath it.

That little slice that my mother had cut let insecurity sneak through, bringing with it duplicitous thoughts that people viewed me as silly and overconfident, pretending like I was someone people could admire or love, when in reality there was nothing to praise.

Why would she have pointed that out? The Bond asked in my head, voice full of confusion.

She—I started to answer, before cutting myself off. What was the purpose of pointing that out? To belittle me? To force me even further towards perfection?

The Bond’s voice cut off my own thoughts, letting my practiced beliefs set back in. I reminded myself that I shouldn’t place any weight in the opinion of someone who believed that a momentary slip of posture represented my worth or my beauty.

I forced myself to smile at the little Royal in front of me, choosing to show her kindness rather than let her young mind misinterpret my sullen expression and think it was something she’d done.

Flora didn’t seem to notice. “I missed you. I want to be like you when I grow up.” A sweet, expected statement from a little girl looking up to a princess.

I folded my legs into a crouch and held her hand. “You don’t need to be like me, Flora.”

“But I want to,” she cried, and my heart ached in return.

“Only if being like me makes you happy in here,” I said, pointing at her heart. It was something I wished someone had told me when I was younger, so I made sure to take the opportunity when presented with a young girl that had at least a one seventh chance of ending up in my position one day.

If the Empire even existed in twenty years.

Flora flung her arms around me a second later, wrapping me in a tight hug. An image, as clear as if I was seeing it with my own eyes, flashed in my mind, of a little girl about Flora’s age, with startling blue eyes and dark hair hugging me in the same way.

I jerked in her hold, momentarily frozen by the image.

I blinked, and thought that little girl materialized in front of me, only to realize that Soren was walking toward me.

As carefully as I could, I extracted myself from Flora’s arms and rose to stand.

She got nervous when she saw Soren walking up, intimidated by his sheer size and force. I felt the same at times.

“Hi, Flora,” Soren said, a secret smile on his face. Flora bounced away in a flurry of ruffles and blushing cheeks.

He was really good at this, and I don’t think he even realized.

Everyone had been fully enraptured with him all night, hanging on every word he said.

Something evidenced by the fact that Ambrose’s father, the head of House Greene walked up to us a second later and snapped, “I’m surprised you have time to take a trip back when we are under such pressure from our enemies.”

Soren paused, letting a few heavy seconds pass by before he answered. It was a subtle show of power, able to pause and consider his words even when someone was verbally attacking him. “We’ve worked hard to develop defenses that could not be felled by the absence of two people, no matter how important they may be.”

I knew there was pride beaming on my face, and I made no move to hide it. I respected that he’d done the work to learn the art of diplomacy and leadership expected from someone in his family instead of just toiling around in his privilege.

“In fact,” I added, letting my own hard-won skill seep in. My mother’s ill-advised comment reminded me of how much weight I’d had to shoulder over the past few years, ensuring that she didn’t destroy fragile relationships with Royals or wealthy families by a poor choice of words. “I think it's rather important that we make trips back. We need to be able to communicate what we’ve seen and bring back messages.” I added a blinding smile for good measure.

Ambrose’s father was notoriously difficult to appease, and yet we seemed to have done just that. He nodded, his lower lip pushing out slightly, before he turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

“Soren,” I said, wondering aloud. “Before you were drafted, what did you want to do?”

He considered me, before answering. “Well, I’d always assumed I’d be an advisor until I eventually took over. Assuming I lived that long.”

NO DYING! The Bond interrupted, while I asked, “And did you think you’d enjoy it?”

Soren chuckled under his breath. “Besides a fair bit of planning murders for those who pissed me off, I guess I would. Why?”

I shook my head, glancing around the room and watching these people interact with each other. “I don’t know. Maybe we should plan more trips back. We are here to deliver peace negotiations. We could help make sure they go smoothly?”

Soren smiled, running his hand down my back. “Bellamy, are you suggesting we actually acknowledge that we’re Royals?”

“I know, how terrible.”

Soren hummed in response, and I was learning that meant he agreed, albeit a little begrudgingly.

That was the last conversation we were able to have for the rest of the party.

I was dragged around by my father to every single eligible man at that party, despite my continued insistence that I was not available for marriage.

Halfway through, I saw Soren’s mother do the same thing to him, and when I saw him talking to the beautiful Devereaux daughter, I ripped my arm from my father’s grasp and approached their conversation, not giving a damn about manners.

Soren’s mother looked extremely displeased, but Soren was grinning like a fool.

We weren’t even able to talk before we were swept into another conversation. Then pulled apart again, then finding each other, then separated.

That pattern was how I’d ended up, pacing back and forth in my room, wondering if I should sneak down the tunnels, checking every single room for him.

Twenty minutes of pacing and the Bond’s insistent pleading later, I decided to do so.

I opened the secret door in my room, only to find Soren had a similar idea.