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People always talked, and even Lysander wasn't an exception.
"I can guess they've told you about my ability to read Estrella's mind. I should've told you myself since you had every right to know as our spymaster."
The need to speak and explain was more a human characteristic than failing really, and because of it, Fina was now silently panicking. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lysander could read Estrella's mind? She had to do something, say something - anything - to discredit the princess, make it seem that even her thoughts were a lie.
But...dammit...was that even possible?
"I used to buy it," Lysander said tightly," every time she acted like she forgot I could listen to her thoughts, but now..." The prince shook his head in a gesture of self-contempt."I was such a fucking a fool to have fallen for it. No one just forgets that another person is able to read her mind."
If Fina had been the type to believe in God, she would've been sending prayers up to the heavens by now. That was exactly what she needed to hear, and she didn't even hesitate for a single second to exploit it.
"You have nothing to blame yourself for, Your Highness." Fina opted to speak with quiet pragmatism, wanting the prince to believe she was still completely neutral in the subject. "You only knew the princess when she was young, and people grow up. People change."
Lysander's fists clenched. He knew Fina was only speaking the truth, but the beast inside him still resisted against the idea. It believed that Estrella was still their Star, and stars were always meant to shine against the darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
He mustn't know I'm hurt, mustn't think I'm jealous of his bond with the spymaster. He mustn't know how desperately afraid I am he'd replace me. Estrella repeated the thoughts over and over in her mind as she had her shower, and they continued even when she was already at her dresser and making rare use of the makeup her sisters regularly send her.
Not wanting to look pathetic was one thing, but mostly she just didn't want her failings to affect Lysander today of all days.
She took a critical look of herself in the mirror and quickly applied another round of concealer. She wanted all traceable signs of her tears - which she had shed bucketloads of - completely gone. Estrella had waited the entire night, often coming out of the balcony in case the beast had found shelter in the darkness. But when dawn broke, and there was still no signs of Lysander, she had no choice but to accept...he just wasn't coming back.
And it terrified her.
Lysander had once told her that the beast in him required not just her constant presence but actual contact.
So for him to stay away, despite this...
Don't think about that.
Estrella clenched and unclenched her fists until her fingers finally stopped shaking and she could apply one final coat of lipstick without having to worry about turning herself into the cosplay version of Harley Quinn. The fate of her marriage could wait, and in any case, after everything he had gone through for his race...it was only his decision that mattered.
Whatever he thought was best, she thought painfully, even if meant having to destroy their mating bond herself.
L'ALLIANCE COMPRISED of seventy-seven known races, and with each race given four ruling seats. This totaled 308 seats in all, and their combined votes counted for 40% of the final tally. The other 40% was from the Blood Oval, of which there were 10 nominated seats. The remaining 20% came from the votes of the general population of preters.
For today's special assembly, arranged specifically to determine Lysander's possible inclusion in L'Alliance, the meeting, which was generally held within the cathedral, had been moved to the outdoor colosseum.
The vast structure consisted several levels of cavea, with wooden benches making up the outermost levels while the innermost levels reserved for ruling seats were more lavish, with velvet cushions and red carpet laid over the marble steps. Closest to the arena and offering the best views was the centermost cuneus, reserved for the ten prestigious members of the Blood Oval.
And all of them were here to witness Lysander Allard's powers firsthand, now that his soul had fused with that of a legendary ancient beast.
"Showtime in twenty minutes, Your Highness," the stage director informed him.
The words would've been laughable if not for the assortment of weapons that hung casually on the other man's belt: a hundred-year-old dagger, tucked next to a pair of double-action Berettas...and a hand grenade.
So...no. Despite the cliched words, the presence of those weapons made it clear that the man meant business, as Lysander did. If the L'Alliance believed he was a threat, then he would be dealt with accordingly.
Thunderous cheers and applause suddenly broke out from the opposite side of the dugout tunnel, and as more soldiers realized that their princess had finally arrived, the sound grew increasingly deafening.
