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I could be mistaken, but I feel like Rori is my friend and for that I’m grateful.
* * *
“Is Edison Ramon gay?”I ask innocently out of the blue and three sets of eyes all turn to me, confused.
We’re sitting in the dining room, me, King, Dax, and Rori, eating our dinner after a lazy Sunday afternoon, when the portrait comes back to mind, the handful of questions I was going to ask King yesterday only just remembered.
“Umm, no. Why would you ask that?” Dax replies, cocking an eyebrow at my random question.
“Well, I was looking at the portrait on that corridor by the cells. There’s a picture of my parents, Carlo and Emily, and Edison and some man. I didn’t know if they were together or something?” I asked.
King chuckles slightly before answering my question.
“That’s Casper Ramon. They’re cousins and much like me and Dax, he’s like Edison’s partner, if you will.”
I nod slowly, starting to understand.
“But why was he in the picture? What about his wife?”
“Edison never married. I guess Casper was in the photo because he helps run the Third District, like our mothers did alongside Carlo and Kennedy,” King replies.
“He’s fucking weird,” Rori pipes up and I furrow my brows in confusion.
“Casper,” she clarifies. “I’ve only met him a couple of times, but the dude doesn’t speak. He just follows Edison around like a lost puppy.”
“Yeah, he’s quiet, but at least he stays out of drama. And the Third District seems to be the only one without it, running smoothly. Edison and Casper have never been a problem,” Dax finishes.
“I have an idea,” Rori says, cutting the silence. “Well, considering Carlo is now dead and no offence, but Elisa and Emily are, too, we should take a new picture. We could have one of the four of us and?”
“No.” King’s cold voice echoes through the room, stopping Rori from continuing.
“What do you meanno? The leaders have changed.” Rori shrugs, ignoring King’s tone.
“Yes, they have, Rori, but that doesn’t mean we’d need the four of us,” he says back with a blank facial expression.
A twinge of hurt travels through my gut as I take in his words but try not to take them personally.
“Theodora is a Harlow,” he adds as if that’s all the explanation needed.
Ouch, that stings.
I wince at King’s statement but don’t have it in me to reply. He’s right after all. No matter how much it hurts to hear him talk about me like that. How can I stand next to his side when I’m the one responsible for killing his father and I should technically be the heir to the Second District?
“Then fucking give her your name and she won’t be,” Rori fires back, shrugging her shoulders, not backing down against King.
King lets out a hollow laugh, then fires back, “Don’t be ridiculous, Aurora.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Dax chimes in and I roll my eyes at the three of them having a conversation about me as if I’m not here.
But we’re talking about me marrying King here. Do I want that? Can we do that? It all seems to be moving too fast. Until King shuts it down.
“I’m not fucking marrying her,” he spits and storms out of the dining room, leaving us all speechless.
Dax gives me a sympathetic smile and Rori just looks livid. But me? Without even realising what I want, the venom in King’s statement crushes every bone in my body. How can Rori claim he’s in love with me when the very idea of marrying me disgusts him?
I retire to my room for the rest of the evening and King never comes for me. I haven’t slept in here since that first week and I feel very lonely in the large bed.
I thought me and King were past our hatred and denial. That afternoon at the waterfall was the line drawn. All cards were on the table and we said fuck it to all the bad blood between us.
