Page 86 of Thomas
Oliver was a young man now, without question. That in and of itself was an odd concept for Thomas to wrap his head around. He was shorter than Thomas by a few inches, but he’d stretched out—long legs, a narrow, lanky frame and square but slim shoulders. He still had the same warm olive skin tone as their younger father and those remarkable blue irises. He was pretty, almost angelic in his appearance.
Thomas stared, taking him in while having mixed feelings about his presence. While it was no direct fault of his own, Oliver was an uncomfortable reminder of Thomas’s past.
“Hi, Thomas—thank you for agreeing to see me. And for allowing me to stay for a few days.”
Thomas nodded and gestured toward the couch across from him. “Of course. Please sit, if you like.” They sat, and a moment later, Mira entered with the formal tea service. Thomas noticed Oliver twisting his hands in his lap.
“Hello, your grace,” Mira said sweetly as she set everything in place. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“You as well, Mira. Have you been okay? Is-is everything fine with you?”
Mira nodded. “Everything is wonderful here, thank you for asking.” She bowed, then left them alone once more. Mira and Sulee had bonded a year after she and Thomas had arrived at the Ashford estate. They’d held a small ceremony for them in the winter courtyard, and it had been a joyous time.
Thomas poured Oliver’s tea, and Oliver shifted to the edge of his seat, visibly flustered.
“Oh, thank you—that’s—I appreciate it,” he stammered.
Thomas nodded and resisted the strong urge to ask why he was here and what he was so nervous about. Instead, he decided on, “So, what brings you back to Eden? I heard you’d left.”
Oliver’s shoulders rose in a breath. His face was flushed, or perhaps it was the lighting? “I—Because I wanted to meet with Prince Alexander, but I’m… I haven’t been able to get ahold of him. His manservant won’t respond to my messages, and I don’t know if I…” He exhaled a weighted breath as if calming himself. “I would like to repay him for the help and kindness that he offered me, that’s all.”
After a brief pause, Oliver’s eyes flicked up to Thomas. “And I wanted to check on you.”
“Check on me?” Thomas asked, taken aback. “Whatever for?—”
The door opened once more. This time, their sister, Sasha, appeared within the gap. If Thomas most resembled their elder father and Oliver the younger, Sasha sat squarely in the center of the spectrum. She had blueish, heather-gray eyes and her skin tone was paler than Oliver’s but not as pale as Thomas’s. Her hair was raven dark like the latter’s, though, and she wore it in a clean, wavy cut just above her shoulders.
She entered the room and stopped dead, staring at Thomas as if he were a ghost. The moment was so awkward and tense that Thomas drew back slightly.
“Hello, Sasha. Is… everything alright?” he said. He glanced at Oliver, who still wore a nervous and odd expression.
“Thomas,” she said simply, her voice weighted with emotion.
“Yes?”
Before he could blink, Sasha strode across the room and crashed into him like the violent winds from a hurricane. She fully embraced him in her arms. Thomas stiffened, utterly surprised by the gesture, his eyes wide. “Sasha?—”
“We didn’t know!” she said, her voice filled with heft and urgency as she wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulders. She was nearly as tall as he was, so her words rushed against his ear. “We had no idea what happened to you—we knew it was something terrible, but no one evertoldus. We didn’t realize until last year, when Lord Heartless tried to do the same thing to Oliver! I am—I’m so, so sorry that we didn’t—that we couldn’t…”
She lifted from the one-sided embrace, and her pretty eyes were glassy as she held him by the shoulders. “But you’re—Are you alright? How are you? We’ve been wanting to know, but we weren’t sure if we should…howwe should… or whether we even had the right to contact you.”
Sasha stared at him, waiting desperately for a response. Bewildered, Thomas glanced over at Oliver, and his brother’s eyes were wet as he twisted his hands.
“Dear gods,” Thomas said quietly, slowly taking everything in. “He—Our father putyouin the dungeon as well? Are you?—”
“I’m fine,” Oliver declared. “I’m okay, but what about you, Thomas? I—I was just there for a short time. But you were…”
Thomas blinked in the silence. He supposed that for them, only just finding out what had happened would be shocking and alarming. For him, it had happened a decade ago. The internal scars were still there, but they had mostly healed over. Thinking of the experience no longer drew fresh, raw emotion.
Gently, he put his hands on Sasha’s wrists and extricated himself from her hold. “Please, both of you, rest assured that I am well, really. Sit, sit.” He urged Sasha around the table to the same couch as Oliver. When they were all seated, he poured Sasha a cup.
“You said you’re fine,” Sasha went on as Thomas set the kettle on the tray, “but what about Lord Ashford? Does he… Is he kind to you?”
“I’ve heard rumors that the two of you bonded within three months,” Oliver chimed in, gripping his knees with his palms. “That’s really fast for a couple in Eden. It must mean that he’s okay? You get along well, at least?”
Thomas picked up his cup and took a long sip of his tea, hoping to lead by example. It worked, because the two of them frantically took hold of their cups and drank as well.
Actually, he and Cameron had bonded within two months. But an additional month had passed before Rachelle had come over for a visit and found out about it. She’d made assumptions, and neither Thomas nor Cameron ever bothered to correct her.
