Mirth laughs. The heaviness in my chest eases a little. Her hold on her power has loosened, but I’m fairly certain that’s not why I can feel her in my chest. Christoph mentioned the same connection.
I can block it, though. Mirth is already distracting. In a way that I suddenly, continually, want to be distracted for the rest of my life. But rationally, it’s far too soon to be contemplating, or even requesting for that matter, a lifetime commitment. Not on an individual level, at least.
“I had no idea that Sully was Lord Savoy,” I say, addressing only one part of Mirth’s question. “The reveal was … a shock.”
“He wanted it that way.”
“But you knew.”
“Of course.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
I nod thoughtfully.
“Sully hasn’t been very forthcoming about the bond group you’ve decided to form,” Mirth says. “Other than you giving him a to-do list and that he literally loathes just about everything you’ve asked him to do.”
“If he’s going to claim his title,” I say mildly, “then Lord Savoy must establish a presence in the nation.”
“Sully already has a presence.”
Mirth is teasing. But doing this properly, all of us forming, establishing, the bond group properly, is exceedingly important to me. Mirth needs us, and we need her. It’s more than just proving that we’re a fit for her — powerful enough, rich enough, skilled enough. The world needs to know it too. There must be no question that we as a bond group can stand beside Mirth.
Too many conversations still need to be had, though, and Sully and Bolan have no time for conversations. Or contracts. Or proper protocol.
“You’re worried,” Mirth says gently. “About … me?”
“No. I’m simply tired. My apologies.”
“Maybe we should get some lunch ordered in?” She tilts her head playfully. “Then take a nap?”
I swallow. Then I find the strength deep within myself to relax enough to take the gift she’s so generously offering me, and I fucking flirt back.
“I don’t think I’m napping around you, Mirth.”
Her smile widens. “I’m sure there’s something I can do to help you sleep … I could read to you? That helps the twins. Though I suspect that with you, the book would need to be terribly boring.”
I laugh involuntarily.
Mirth looks momentarily startled. I feel her essence shift, tightening around her.
“What about some warm milk?” I tease back.
She smiles, though still slightly hesitant.
I’m not certain what startled her, but …
“I do think you can help me with some of the research I’ve been doing.” I get up and cross around my desk.
Mirth’s brow furrows, utterly becomingly. “With … contract law?”
I laugh quietly to myself, though I get that she’s a touch dismayed at the thought I might actually talk about contractswith her. From a locked drawer, I retrieve three books — purloined from my father’s personal library, and which I’ve been combing through in between drafting contracts— along with my notebook. I rarely set pen to paper these days. It’s too inefficient. But it felt right for this particular area of research.
These two areas, more accurately. But for the Savoy bond group, they are one and the same.
I set the books on the side table beside Mirth, keeping my notebook on my knee.
