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“That I’m out of my mind, but that doesn’t change what I’ve done or what I’ve been ordered to do.”
“What’s happened?” All the anger was gone from Van’s tone, and replaced with soft concern. “You look like… What did she say to you?”
“Nothing she hasn’t said before, but this time it felt different. Worse. More final.” I made my way to the sitting area and threw the binder on the coffee table. It hit the white marble top with a resounding thwack.
“What. Is. That?” Van drew the words out as he approached the binder, staring down at it as if it held the plague inside.
I shared the sentiment. “Suitors for my consideration.” I sat down in one of the armchairs, hoping that feeling of the soft leather surrounding me would be comforting, but it wasn’t. At least not enough to outweigh the heaviness inside me.
Van moved to sit on the dark blue velvet couch. “Please tell me you’re joking. I thought you had an agreement with her.”
“Afraid not.” I kicked my feet up onto the coffee table, trying to hide the stupid thing from view with my boots. “I’ve always managed to put it off—to put her
off—but not this time. Apparently, the way things have unfolded the last few months have put me in the spotlight again, and we’re about to get busy. We’ll be neck-deep in assassins until I solidify my power base. So, marriage.”
“We can hold them off. We’ve done it before, but you can’t... I mean, who—”
“If you’re about to insult me, please know I don’t have the energy for it.” I wasn’t sure who in their right mind would take me on, but I didn’t need anyone else pointing that out. I grinned at Van. “My mother offered me your hand.”
His face went pale. “You’re joking.”
“No. And I like my life—even if I don’t enjoy it at this moment—so I’m not lying either.” I was probably hateful for taking some joy in his reaction, but I couldn’t help it. He was in as much misery as I was at the thought of us marrying.
He rubbed a hand down his face as he took it in. “I wouldn’t accuse you of being so stupid as to lie, but really, Cosette.” He looked me in the eyes. “Me? She honestly still doesn’t understand?”
“I don’t think my mother will ever understand us.” It seemed like my mother put us together all those years ago with the hopes that we’d fall in love, but that didn’t happen. Van said he felt as if he were my father, and that’s how I felt, too.
I spun in the chair, throwing my legs over the arm so that I could watch Van. I relaxed as I watched him think, resting my head back against the other arm of the chair.
Van sighed and I felt it as if it were my own. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at me. “It has come up before.”
I gave him a small smile. “I know.” And we’d thankfully stopped it from happening.
“So, it’s not a surprise to either of us.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “It’s not a bad idea when you set aside our feelings on the matter.”
I snorted. Now he was the one that had to be joking.
“I can see why she suggested it.”
Wait. He was joking. Wasn’t he?
Van blew out another long breath, and then rolled his shoulders back as he sat tall. It was something that he did right before he went into battle. That one move had me worried. It was Van’s version of freaking out.
“When do we marry?”
Oh, wow. He honestly thought I’d agreed to it?
I wanted to drag it out—torture him a bit for yelling at me—but his posture looked like he was ready to take a hit, and I couldn’t do that. Not to him. “I refused, of course.”
“Oh, thank the heavens.” His shoulders relaxed and he started laughing, his cheeks pinking ever so slightly. “You had me worried that you agreed to it.”
“I thought it’d be obvious. I can’t… With you.” I stuck my tongue out. “And if I’d agreed to it, why would I have a binder of suitors to choose from?”
He laughed. “Right. I just can’t think straight when your mother is being…how she is.” Van’s face grew serious again as he met my gaze. “I would’ve done it. For you, I would still do it.” He sounded like he’d enjoy that as much as he’d enjoy facing down an execution squad.
“That’s so kind of you.” He was lucky I was somehow in a teasing mood. Otherwise, I might’ve picked a fight with him.
He gave me his cut-the-crap look. “You know what I mean. I’ve watched over you since the day after your twelfth birthday. I care for you, deeply. You’re my only family, and I’d do anything for you. But marriage? I—”
