Page 82 of The Heir's Bargain

"Always, my dear."

I rolled my shoulders back, steadying myself. "Fynn doesn't need me or anyone at his side. He may be more reckless than not, but he cares deeply about this kingdom and will be a great king no matter."

Esmeray gave me a sad smile. "You and I may believe that, Danisinia, but does he? Often, we are the last ones to see the truth within ourselves."

Once a couple of council members whisked Esmeray away, I walked further away from the castle, finding a solitary spot on the hill where the music was no more than a dull buzz in the background. While Esmeray meant well, I couldn't help but drown in my own guilt.

I thrived on facts and logic, but nothing about the courtship with Fynn was logical or factual.

Not anymore.

As my mind got lost among the stars finally appearing in the sky, a twig snapped somewhere in the distance behind me. The back of my neck prickled. Without turning around, I took a long breath before saying, "Fynn."

"There's no sneaking up on you, is there?" Fynn asked.

I huffed a laugh, but it came out coarser than intended.

Fynn sat beside me with an oomph and stretched out his legs. "You disappeared during the performance. I tried searching for you, but. . ."

It had been over half an hour since I had left the small theater. If Fynn had been trying to find me, he hadn't searched hard enough.

"I needed some fresh air," I said with a shrug.

"Ah."

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" I asked, peering at him from the corner of my eye.

He raked his fingers through his hair. "I needed some fresh air, too, I guess. In truth, I probably would have found you sooner, but your father stopped me before I could get too far."

Despite the summer heat, my skin grew cold. "Did he?—"

Fynn shook his head. "He doesn't suspect anything. He didn't even bring it up."

"I suppose that is unsurprising. Whenever my mother brings it up in front of him, he stays quiet or finds some paperwork that suddenly requires his attention. I can't tell if it's good or bad that he hasn't asked any questions."

"I would say it’s good," Fynn said, his tone calm as he leaned back on his palms. "His shields are strong—always have been—but he didn't seem suspicious. We were actually talking about one of my recent proposals."

"Oh?"

Fynn's jaw flexed. He fixed his gaze upon the sea where the sun hung low in the sky, hovering above the horizon. "It's been fifteen years."

There were no words to give that would lessen the pain, so instead, I kept quiet and let him talk.

"The council had a meeting a month ago, and I recommended sending a squadron to get more accurate intel."

My eyes widened, but I quickly flattened my expression before Fynn could notice. This must have been the reason for the extra practices. They were trying to identify who they would send.

Before I could say anything, Fynn sighed and continued, "My mother keeps telling me to be patient, but—" He swallowed, pulling one knee closer to his chest and resting his chin atop it.

"It's okay to be sad, Fynn." I bumped my shoulder into his. "It's even okay to be angry."

"I'm not?—"

"Fynn," I said, cocking my head to the side.

"Fine. Usually, I'm better at holding it in—at compartmentalizing these things. But my mother has been bringing my father up more and more these days."

"He was her soul bond. I don't even know what I would do if I lost my other half. The pain she feels is unimaginable. For her to be able to talk about him, though, that's a good thing, Fynn."

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