Page 26 of Destiny Redeemed
Dinner wound to a close, the dessert plates were cleared, and I fantasized about escaping to my room. But fate, as usual, had other plans.
“This has been the most entertaining dinner in a while.” Queen Felicia dabbed her lips with a napkin, her eyes twinkling. “I can’t remember the last time dinner was this… lively.”
King Arnald’s deep laugh rumbled through the hall. “Indeed, my dear. The company has been most stimulating.” His knowing gaze flickered between Anderic and me.
Oh, good. Even the king thinks this is amusing.
“Sebastian,” Queen Felicia turned to my brother, who was already looking at me pointedly. “Why don’t you stay the night? After all, your sister is staying the night here as well.”
My stomach dropped as Sebastian’s eyes found mine, that familiar stubborn set to his jaw promising nothing good.
“I would be honored, Your Majesty.” His voice was honey-sweet, but his eyes promised interrogation. “It’s been far too long since Lya and I had a proper talk.”
Translation: You’re not escaping this conversation, little sister.
* * *
I slumped onto the four-poster bed in the guest chamber, suddenly missing Laurel’s presence. If she were here, she’d be teasing me mercilessly about the whole dinner fiasco. After that disaster, I made a mad dash for freedom before Sebastian could corner me for his promised “talk.”
Maybe if I hide under these sheets long enough, he’ll forget all about it.
A sharp knock at the door shattered that foolish hope.
Damn. Of course, my rotten luck wouldn’t let me off that easily.
I burrowed deeper into the plush pillows, feigning sleep. The knocking persisted, growing more insistent with each rap.
Grumbling, I hauled myself off the bed and yanked open the door, a biting retort ready on my lips to defend myself. But instead of Sebastian’s disapproving frown, I found myself face-to-face with none other than Rosalind.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “What?”
Rosalind rolled her eyes. “Can I at least come inside?”
With an exaggerated sigh, I stepped aside, gesturing her in with a sweeping, mock-courtly bow.
I sprawled across the chaise lounge, the picture of nonchalance, while Rosalind perched primly on an armchair. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable for Rosalind. I was happy to sit in silence. I examined my nails, refusing to break first.
Finally, Rosalind cleared her throat. “I came here to say… I’m still suspicious of you.”
“Shocking,” I drawled.
She plowed on, “But I’m going to take a leap of faith and trust you. For now.”
I slow-clapped, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow. How brave of you, Rosalind. Truly inspiring.”
“Could you be serious for once?” She snapped.
“Oh, but I am being serious,” I retorted. “Deadly serious. Now, what exactly do you want? I doubt you came here just to announce your magnanimous decision to grace me with your trust.”
Rosalind’s fingers twisted in her lap. “I want… to reconcile. And perhaps work together. On my father’s case.”
My eyebrows shot up so fast I was surprised they didn’t fly right off my face. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” she said, lifting her chin. “It seemed like you wanted to reconcile with me and leave all the bitterness behind. I was just too stubborn to give you a chance. So, here I am, ready to accept the help you extended.”
I stared at Rosalind, thinking of all my options. She wanted to work together? On her father’s case? The same case that could implicate my own father if we dug too deep?
Not bloody likely.
