Page 73 of Bianca and the Monsters

Arriving back at the inn, I know better than to share my thoughts, though Bastien’s furtive glances prove he’s aware of my intentional withholding. But that’s fine, because he’ll be playing the leading role in my crazy plan if good sense doesn’t show up very soon. In the meantime, we eat a meal together, with little meaningful conversation, and then I declare my wishes for some quiet time with Bastien.

Archie is gracious about it, while I work to avoid Pennie’s suspicious glare. My dad winks at me—knowing me too well to ever be caught unaware—and then lends support by distracting my monsters by throwing down a poker challenge. Well done, Dad.

Bastien’s excitement inspires some bouncy steps up the stairs, and as soon as we’re safely behind the door to our room, he spins to face me. “What are we doing? What’s your big secret? I was dying out there, knowing you were plotting and I didn’t know what. I wish I could hear your thoughts. Can you hear mine?” His words are so squished together they barely make sense.

“I can’t hear your thoughts, but I love that I can feel your intentions.” I lean and hug him. “I love that your support is completely without condition. I know you can’t help that because you’re a Taran, but I…”

He pulls back, claiming both my hands and holding them in front of him. “It’s different though… from whatIthought it would be, whatRemythought we would be.” His eyes roll at the mention of good ol’ antler man. “It’snotthat I lack free will, Mistress. It’s like I’ve fallen into perfection and never want to leave.”

Bastien gives my hands a light squeeze. “Yes, I’m yours to command and nothing could ever make me happier, but if you asked—or ordered me—to do something you would regret, I wouldn’t do it. If you asked me to do something that would harm you, I would refuse.”

He pauses, searching for the words. “What everyone mistakes about Tarans and our bond—something I only know now that we are bonded—is that we are the embodiment of love, and service to that love. A true mistress or master wouldneverabuse us by compelling us to perform acts against our nature. It’s only the filthy thieves who did that, who stole Taran destinies in order to subjugate us, which ultimately led to our designation as property. You would never do anything to harm me or bully me into darkness.”

Guilt begins manically lighting stinky incense inside me and the stench in my soul is inhospitable.

Bastien mashes his lips together, fighting a laugh. Then he waves his hand at me, my face specifically. “What isthatabout?”

I sigh. “I was about to ask you to do something questionable, dangerous, and entirely the wrong thing for a responsible mistress to suggest.” My shoulders droop like a moody, bad mistress’s shoulders should absolutely droop. A crowd of tomato hurlers should be shouting unpleasant names at me right now.

“Mistress,” he croons, teasing his feathered fingers over my cheeks, “you would never do that.”

“Well, not now that you’ve given me theresponsible mistresstalk.” I shrug. “Let’s just cuddle and call it good. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

Bastien stares at me and I’m not sure what’s happening, but after a few seconds, my eyes widen and I sway slightly. The corners of his lips rise as he plays with our song… our song and my body. It’s like he’s controlling the volumeandthe base, directing exactly where the thumping pulses land inside me.

Then he leans forward, his mouth near mine. “Tell me, Mistress, what you desire.”

I lean into him, resting my cheek against his. “It’s crazy. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe hope is crazy.”

Bastien senses the change in my mood and leads me to sit on the velvet chair. He kneels before me, now holding my hands. “Please, talk to me.”

“You were listening all day, right?”

He nods.

“You heard what they said, those not-so-subtle references to just how manygriefdays the queen takes—sometimes half the year. I think they were trying to gently warn me that it could be months before we see the queen, if then. Maybe she’ll never want to see me, never even bother to hear our case. I know that Pennie doesn’t believe that I’m actually connecting with Nico, but…”

“I think you are reaching him.”

I squeeze his hands tightly. “You do? Why?”

Bastien’s feathers ruffle as he forms his answer. “You know I never had a song before you and it wasn’t as powerful before you claimed me, so there wasn’t much time between us forming our bond and Nico saving your father and vanishing.”

Bastien’s loss of Nico strikes me and I feel terrible that I’ve been focusing on how much I miss him, completely ignoring the fact that Bastien lost his comforting presence too.

“I’m sorry you lost him.”

“Mistress, I know you are, but that’s the thing. The times you’ve felt close to him,I’vefelt close to him too. Not because of my bond to him—because it was never like that between us—but I think I feel him through you.”

He seems frustrated, like he’s attempting to recall a hazy memory. “I already know what it feels like inside me when you dream; there’s no one else there. But when you’re dreaming of Nico, I feel his soothing presence inside us, our bond, our song. I even thought I smelled him, the scent of love that always filled every space when he thought about you.”

Tears well in my eyes and then run down my face before Bastien catches them in his feathers.

“I think you’re bonded to him like you’re bonded to me—not with an official claiming or a feather, but somehow…”

I reach and capture a tear, studying its glistening presence on my finger. “I cried into his fur when I finally understood his feelings and how much I’d accidentally hurt him. He was so moved by what I said, what I felt, what I saw… one of his tears landed on me.”

The memory weighs me down. “I’d forgotten about it, because Remy and theoaf squadarrived and everything was about saving you and then my dad, and then Nico was gone. But after we shared our tears, I felt a profound change inside me, like the ground suddenly shifted. I wonder if we did bond… I hope we did. Maybe that will help us get him back.”

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