Page 5 of The Heir's Bargain

After all, over the past fifteen years, we had never once discussed that dreadful night that changed our entire world and stripped our kingdom of its king and princess. We had lost two of the people who mattered most to us. All I wanted to know was if the bull king haunted her dreams, too. If she still wept some nights, crying out for my father and sister.

I wanted to know if some days the anger was too painful to bear that she had to drink her nights away, too.

I wanted to see the face beneath the crown.

I knew my mother missed my father. I could see it in her sea-blue eyes. But instead of talking to us about her pain, she locked it away.

Because that's what Nadareans did.

After all, I was the prince with the cocky smile and loud laughter. I was the one who never took himself too seriously. Who stayed up late, who drank too much at parties and gatherings, who danced with little care in the world, who kissed and slept with too many women.

And based on my mother's stare from across the table, I was also the prince-about-to-be-named-heir who was already becoming an even bigger disappointment than he already was. I most certainly didn't need to read her mind to know that. It was written in all the small movements—the way her blue eyes had turned stormy, the way the corner of her mouth ticked down, the way she rubbed the ring hanging from her necklace with two fingers.

Gods, I thought as I dropped her gaze.

I should have taken Lukas' offer to sleep in one of his guest rooms instead of coming home last night. But when Terin had given me that Mother-will-be-pissed look, I knew it was time for us to return to the castle. Apparently, Lukas' brother Riley was not enough of a draw to convince my twin to disappoint our mother.

Although, now, I wasn't sure which look from my mother would have been worse.

She folded her hands on her lap and tilted her head an inch. "Fynneares."

I exhaled. "Yes, Mother?"

Porcelain clattered as she set the cup on the table. "Fynneares, you are a king?—"

"Ah," I said, interrupting as I waved a piece of bacon in the air and leaned forward on the couch. "Future king, Mother."

"Fynneares Andros," she warned.

"Esmeray Ledia." I pointed the bacon at her, my brows bunching together in mockery.

She massaged her temples with two fingers, groaning, her calm demeanor slipping. "Son, can you be serious for one moment, please?"

I snorted and popped the rest of the bacon into my mouth. "I am always serious, Mother," I said, my words muffled.

My mother's eyes narrowed as she leaned over the table.

Unflinching, I went to grab another piece from the table, but the room spun. I gripped the edge of the couch, steadying myself.

"You are still drunk." She sat back, shaking her head. "And today of all days, Fynneares?"

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the couch, throwing an arm over the back.

"Fynn, you do recall what today is, right?"

"The fourteenth?"

"By the gods." Her head fell into her palms. "To think, we could have chosen Terin instead. He's responsible and considerate. He's?—"

"Also drunk," I mumbled, interrupting my mother from diving into one of her needless comparisons and bouts of what-if and if-only.

Even though Terin and I were identical in appearance, we couldn't have been more different. Terin preferred to play it safe. He didn't want to break the rules. Even when he did after following me, he ended up ratting me out more often than not. Each time, we both would get yelled at, but Terin's punishment would always be less severe. When we were fifteen, he told our mother we had broken into the royal liquor cabinets. Yet even though Terin had his fair share of rum that night, he escaped our mother's berating since he had been the one to confess.

While I should have been upset that Terin didn't receive the same treatment, I wasn't. According to my mother, I should have known better since I was older (by a mere ten minutes). But I knew the truth.

Terin lived with his punishment every day and night. While my ability to hear people's thoughts was often an annoyance, I could at least shut them off when I slept. Terin's gift, on the other hand, was a different form of torture. The ability to walk through people's dreams left him a walking corpse most days.

According to the advisors, Terin was, therefore, unfit to rule. A king needed to be at least alert to his surroundings.

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