Page 8 of Cold Heir

“I can see you don’t want to discuss this further, so we don’t have to.”

“Thank you,” I sighed.

“No problem,” she chirped. “I would, however, like to discuss this mission you’re on tonight.”

The term made me frown. “There is no mission.”

“Well, you can call it whatever you’d like.” Apparently, she begged to differ. “But you and Prince Silas have,illegally,procured an Ianite-owned truck to,illegally,transport food to humans who dwell outside a harvesting camp …illegally,”she added with a cheeky grin.

I couldn’t help but to laugh at her summation of our actions.

“Don’t misunderstand,” she added, “I think what you two are doing here is honorable, and it shows your heart, but … does it serve either of us to deny the nature of this endeavor?”

I’d forgotten how tiresome it was to argue with her. “Touché.”

“Great. Now, since we’re both on the same page, can we discuss it openly? I have a few questions.”

“Go ahead,” I chuckled, still shaking my head at her.

“Well, to start, am I wrong in assuming that you genuinely care about these two we’re meeting tonight? Otherwise, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help them, and wouldn’t have agreed to do it for asecondtime. Unless, of course, you have someotherreason I’ve missed. An ulterior motive?”

It wasn’t lost on me how her tone changed when asking the last question. It was as if she reserved some of the hope in her heart, just in case I let her down by confirming that there was, in fact, a hidden motive.

“I’ve grown to understand them a little better these couple weeks since we first met,” I admitted. “And through getting to knowthem,I feel I’ve gotten to know Corina better as well. Like some of the missing pieces of her puzzle are finally starting to come together.”

Elle didn’t say much, which was unexpected.

“What doyouthink about all this?” I asked.

She turned and her eyes lit up a bit, maybe liking that I was interested in her opinion.

“Before meeting Mistress Corina, I didn’t have much contact with humans, other than the occasional encounter with a Doll when we were out and about. All I knew of them was what I heard from other sources, but now that I’ve gotten to knowher… I’ve had a hard time understanding why they’ve been reduced to … well, a means of food and free labor.”

The depth of her responses never ceased to amaze me. Tonight was no exception.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked when I fell quiet for a moment.

“No, it’s more a matter of what you saidright.Now, if only there weren’t five-hundred years of traditionalism stopping me from doing something about it.”

I slipped into my own thoughts, imagining all the red tape and bureaucracy that stood between the humans and freedom.

“Julian, I think it has been the role of so many to convince you that you’re less than you are. As a monarch, they’ve led you to believe you’re nothing more than a title, merely a mouthpiece that speaks for the powers that be, instead of yourself. But … when I look at you, I see more than your crown,” she shared, prompting me to glance at her. “I have faith that, during your reign, or perhaps before even being seated in the throne, you’ll do great things. I believe you’re this Dynasty’s best hope for change.”

I heard Elle loud and clear, believed she saw things as simplistically as she’d just made them out to be, but I didn’t see our world through the same rose-colored lenses.

“There are a lot of people who don’t want things to return to how they were before. You do realize that, don’t you?” It wasn’t her fault her view of things may have been a bit skewed, so I hoped I was making that clearer.

“I’m aware, but since when do you need anyone’s permission to make decisions?” she asked with a broadening grin. “Last time I checked,youwere the one who will be crowned presiding emperor in less than a year.”

I hadn’t realized it until now, but I needed this, a reminder that someone believed in me, believed the decisions I made lately weren’t completely wrong. Discussing it with Elle helped me grasp something else. The negative opinion concerning my actions were more a reflection of those whose opinions I sought.

Not the actions themselves.

“Any word from Roman?”

Hearing Elle ask made me feel sick to my stomach. The longer we went without a response to the many calls and texts we sent, the more likely it was that he’d gone off the rails.

“No,” I sighed. “He’s been radio silent since he stormed out.”

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