Page 63 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride
The entire drive there, I want to ask Ardalion a million questions, but there is still a wedge between us. So many unspoken words after what happened in the office the other day. I don’t know what to say to him. How to fix it.
I get the sense that he also wants to talk to me, but we’re both stuck in a sort of limbo, unsure of what the future holds.
“We’re here,” he says, turning into the security gate of the beachside property.
I’m nervous as we drive up the gravel road that leads to the home of one of his cousins. It’s a massive mansion, but not as big as Ardalion’s.
Parking out front, we can hear the music from inside, and other people are arriving at the same time as us.
Ardalion pulls my door open for me and holds out his hand to guide me from the car. I place my hand in his, and he smiles at me as I stand next to him.
A man climbs out of a car parked next to us, drawing his attention.
“Ard, hey man, good to see you—is everything okay?” the guy asks. I turn to see who it is, his voice familiar to me.
“Hey Emmanuil. Yes, it’s good. Considering,” Ardalion chuckles.
Emmanuil shakes his head at Ardalion. “That was intense, man. I thought for sure someone was going to pull the trigger.”
I step close to Ardalion’s side, recognizing Emmanuil from the other night at the office. “Hello.” I smile nervously.
“Hi, Belle, good to see you again, under better circumstances.” He winks. “I hope they started that spit roast hours ago. I’m starving and those things take all day to cook,” Emmanuil says, walking ahead of us towards the open front door.
We walk into the mansion. There is no one standing at the door to welcome us. It seems everyone is comfortable enough to come and go as they please.
Ardalion keeps me close, which I’m grateful for because it’s a bit overwhelming to be surrounded by so many people I don’t know, all of them being his family.
He leads me through the house towards the garden, through wide glass doors that lead out onto a wooden deck. The place is gorgeous. The design is completely different from Ardalion’s home. It has a more cluttered feel, with lots of art and ornaments, and weird pieces everywhere.
Ardalion introduces me to a few people, and I smile, saying hello politely.
It’s only when Kira and Alya come rushing to say hi that I finally relax a bit.
“You’re finally here. It’s time for cocktails,” Aly shouts, grabbing my hand, pulling me away from Ard’s side. She scrunches her face at her brother. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring her back in one piece.”
“You better.” He laughs. “Hi, Kira,” he calls to his other sister, who waves her hand through the air as she walks away, pulling me, with Aly, towards the bar.
They order something exotic-sounding, a drink I’ve never heard of.
“What’s in it?” I ask, when Alya hands me a large glass layered with pink and blue and topped with strawberries.
“It’s something Kira and I made up a few years ago. You’ll love it.”
She dips her straw into her drink and pushes the crushed ice around a bit before taking a long sip. I do the same, waiting for the flavors to spread over my tongue.
“Can you guess what it is?” Kira asks, grinning.
“Strawberry, obviously. Um. Vanilla. There’s rum in there. Is that bubblegum?” I ask, scrunching my nose.
“It is!” Aly says excitedly. “And what else?”
I take another sip.
“I can’t get the last thing. Something fruity.” I shrug.
“You’re right, though. It’s peach syrup.”
“Oh my word. It’s delicious.”
