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She gives him a terse nod. "Most of my family call me Bella."

"Mine call me Linc."

She nods, and I look between them, a strange feeling inside me as the two parts of my life combine. It's strange to even think that I have two parts when just a few months ago, the only part I had was Bastian, and he isn't even part of this equation.

Linc comes over to sit next to me, kissing me on the cheek rather than on the lips. It's disappointing, but I know he's doing it in order to not make Bella uncomfortable.

Even so, she rolls her eyes.

A servant walks in and places Linc's food down in front of him, leaving the three of us in peace until we call them back.

Pip goes to sit by his chair, looking up at him with pleading eyes and clearly expecting him to feed her.

"Are there more wedding celebrations we're supposed to be taking part in today?" I ask as I pick up my goblet of blood and take a long sip.

Linc shakes his head. "I have meetings with my father today," he says.

"What about?" I'm curious about what the King wants with him.

"I wish I knew," he responds. "Father doesn't typically tell anyone what he wants until they're in the meeting with him."

"It sounds like he might be trying to put you off-guard," Bella says. "My father used the same tactic when he was alive. I believe Uncle Gerard does too."

Linc gives me a confused look.

"Lord Fallmartin," I respond.

Understanding dawns on his face. "I've never heard him referred to that way," he says by way of explanation.

Bella chuckles. "He is surprisingly informal when he wants to be."

"I wouldn't know," Linc says, looking at me.

I nod. "It’s probably because you're above him in station."

"That doesn't seem to stop him from telling me what to do."

Bella laughs. "That's also Uncle Gerard. You'll get used to him."

Linc doesn't seem so sure, but I know that he's content with our plan for making him our ally. We simply have to do what we can to survive and to make sure powerful people are on our side. And that includes my father, even if he's choosing to keep things from Bella about Bastian.

EIGHT

No matter how many different ways I think about the situation with Bastian and Thomas, I can't help shaking Bella's words. I don't like to think that I'm a naive person, even when it comes to my brother, but there was so much certainty in her words, and in my response to them, that it's impossible to discount them.

I touch the dagger at my hip, the one gifted to me by Lord Fallmartin. He said he wanted me to be able to protect myself, but is the weapon enough? I don't know how to use it, beyond the obvious of sticking the pointy end in the direction of whoever might be attacking me. Considering that most of the people around me have decades more experience in those matters, I suspect that's not going to be enough.

I push the thought out of my mind until I enter my receiving room to find my ladies waiting, including Lady Wentworth, and an idea sparks in my mind in response.

I smile at the assembled women and gesture for the woman in the colours of House Wentworth to step to the side. The blue and silver suits her well, especially with how it contrasts her dark hair.

"Your Highness," she says, dipping into a curtsy.

"Lady Wentworth," I respond with a nod of my head. "I don't believe we've yet had a chance to talk with one another."

"I believe not, Your Highness."

"Let me be plain, Lady Wentworth, I know why my father invited you to be one of my ladies."