Page 15 of The Heir's Bargain

As if they felt me reaching for them, my friends' thoughts poured down the invisible threads swimming in the air.

You've got this, brother, Terin whispered down the line. His thoughts were clearer than all the rest as he stood in the front row.

Beside Terin, Graeson, our childhood friend whom my parents had taken under their wing when his mother died, stood. I tugged on the strand leading to his mind, but per usual, Graeson kept his mind locked up. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, his silver eyes incandescent in the sunlight.

My smile grew wider. Leave it to Graeson to keep me in my place.

At last, my attention turned to the final member of our quartet. I trusted few people in this world. Terin, Graeson, and Dani were three of them. The four of us had grown up together and spent much of our childhood running around this castle, playing with wooden swords, and wreaking havoc for the staff. While there was less time for such tomfoolery these days, I could always count on the three of them to show up. Even if Dani, who stood beside her parents, grimaced as she fiddled with the lace gloves her mother probably forced her to wear.

As my closest friends and allies, they had all been trained in building mental shields to block out my ability. While it may have put me at a disadvantage when trying to read their minds, their protection was more important than my ability to invade their privacy. Because if there were one person who could read minds, who was to say there wouldn't be another? While we knew our gifts came from the old blood of the gods running through our veins, there was plenty about our gifts that were still unknown. Graeson needed little training, for his abilities countered any interference with his mind lest he willed it. Terin took to it quickly enough since our relatives on our mother's side all had a natural affinity for creating shields due to the nature of our gifts. And Dani? Well, she was able to achieve anything she set her mind to.

A smile blossomed on Dani’s face. I knocked on the door of her mental fortress. A single thought, quiet but crisp, escaped her carefully crafted barriers: I hope the crown doesn't make your head look bigger than it already is.

I stifled the snort and looked away from my friends.

I could always count on them to support me, even when the rest of the world did not.

Music from the most talented musicians in Pontia filled the ballroom as people danced and chatted the night away.

I smiled down at the current woman in my arms as we flew across the floor with the other couples. The woman was beautiful, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember her name. She was talking, yet I couldn't focus on the words coming out of her mouth. No amount of pleasantries, it seemed, could override the thoughts pouring out of her mind.

By the gods, he's so handsome, she thought. My mother would die if I became queen.

It was hard to be interested in someone when you knew what was inside their mind. And while it might have been rude to admit it, my current dance partner had nothing going on in her mind besides superficial thoughts that held little weight.

When the song finally ended, I smiled politely and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. She curtsied, her cheeks bright red, as I tipped my head to her.

As she walked away, I quickly scanned the room for a staff member. Spotting a tall, slim man balancing a tray of glasses in one hand, I made a beeline for him before anyone could pull me into another dance.

"Let me help you out there, Jordan," I said, picking up a glass.

Jordan tipped his head. "Having fun, Your Highness?"

"Immense fun," I mumbled, taking a sip of red wine. The wine was bitter on my tongue, perfect for how I felt as I observed the dancing and chattering guests.

I had lost track of the number of women my mother threw at me.

Blondes.

Brunettes.

Gingers.

How many dances would it take to make my mother happy?

Part of me thought I should simply pick one. Gather all the women my mother had made me dance with into one room and make them stand in a big circle. Then, with a blindfold tied over my eyes, I would spin around until the music stopped, and whomever I pointed to would be deemed my wife.

My mother would be more than happy with that if it meant I would settle down. It would no doubt appease the advisors and make them believe I was finally taking my role seriously.

At least, if I took that route, the search for a wife would be over.

Yet I couldn't even contemplate whether any of the women I had danced with thus far could be a potential wife. They were all beautiful, and many found me attractive. But when they curtsied at the song's start and placed their hand in mine, their thoughts swept through my mind like a windstorm. The women may have differed in height, accents, and backgrounds, but they all had one thing in common: they all sought my attention in the hopes of gaining a crown.

If I could have shut out the thoughts, perhaps then I could have been ignorant of their truths and their reasons for wanting to dance with me. But I couldn't.

I spun the glass of wine between my fingers, the red liquid sloshing around the glass globe.

How many drinks would it take until the thoughts disappeared or until the voices in my head were finally silenced?

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