Page 11 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

I don’t miss the whispers as she crosses the box, heads leaning together, eyes cutting her way.

Pathetic.

Rosie survived the trials without any of their advantages, no guards, no real training, just guts and luck, the only commoner to make it out in my lifetime.

The people love her for it, and the nobles hate her for it.

Their problem, and Hayes’s, I guess. Father might’ve overlooked her being common-born. But the fact that she can’t shift? Only noble in history who can’t? That sealed it; Father will never let Hayes be with her.

“Well,” the girl beside me mutters, wrinkling her nose. “They’ll let anyone in the royal box these days.”

I pretend not to hear her.

Hayes doesn’t even seem to notice. His entire focus is on Rosie, a genuine smile spreading across his face. He’s so fucked. I can’t help but laugh a little.

Rosie finally glances at the girl in blue, just the briefest look, then turns back to Hayes as if the girl is simply part of the scenery. She always does that, and it never gets old, her casual indifference. Nothing irritates the nobles more than being deemed irrelevant.

The girl’s face flushes red. Finn and I shift, blocking her from the conversation. It takes her a beat too long before she turns and walks away, finally realizing she’s been dismissed entirely.

“So,” Rosie says, her attention fully on Hayes now. “That was quite the ceremony. Though I have to say, six survivors is the lowest I’ve ever seen.”

Hayes nods, expression serious. “Father keeps making them harder.”

“Of course he does.” Understanding flickers across Rosie’s face. She survived those woods, and she knows what it costs. “At least the ones who made it through seemed strong.”

“Strong or well-protected,” Finn adds, nudging Rosie like they’re sharing an inside joke.

Rosie’s mouth curves as she looks his way. “Same thing, with these nobles.” She waves a hand toward Hayes and me.

“You’re one of us now, Rosie,” I say with a grin. “Common-born or not, surviving the Woods made you officially one of us nobles.”

“How have you been?” Hayes asks, softer now. “I haven’t seen you in the gardens lately.”

She’s about to respond when a hand clamps down on Hayes’s shoulder. The warmth drains from Hayes’s face, and his shoulders tense.

Father.

His eyes find Rosie, and he draws a slow breath in through his nose before he turns to Hayes.

“There you are, Son.” Father’s smile is pleasant and complete bullshit. “Lord Davrik has been asking for you. You’ll have to excuse us.”

Hayes’s face closes off. “Of course, Father.”

Father nods to Rosie like she’s a servant who’s overstayed. “Lady Rosalie. Always a pleasure.”

She dips her head. “Your Majesty.”

And just like that, Hayes is gone, shepherded toward Lord Davrik and his daughter, Belinda. Another move on Father’s board.

I watch Hayes go, shoulders stiff, that easy smile from moments ago wiped clean. Rosie watches, too; a stillness crosses her face before she turns away.

I notice Grier and Finn off to the side, heads close together, talking low. Finn catches my eye and gives me a nod, then makes his way over.

“Guard routine tonight?” He keeps his voice casual. “Grier approved.”

I glance at Hayes. Still trapped with the Davriks, nodding along while Belinda simpers at him. He looks miserable.

“Fuck yes.” I grin. “He needs it.”