Grrake slowly grinned. “I can take that.”
Coughing and smiling a little despite himself, Yhkon got up again. “I’m going to l-leave be-before it gets any weirder.”
“If you don’t mind me saying…I think you should talk to Jaylee.”
Oh blast. “You can say it but I’m not sure I’m going to lis-s-en.”
Grrake gave him the head-tilted, meaningful, somewhat chiding look. Definitely my dad. “I’m not saying you need to go in there and propose. I’m not even saying you need to…to reopen a relationship. But she does deserve an apology. And for everyone’s sake it would be best if the two of you could work it out and at least be friends.”
“Glad a pr-proposal is at least off the list,” he muttered, adjusting one crutch under his arm. A sigh escaped his lungs. “I’m going,” was all he said.
Grrake’s grin returned. “That’s a good lad.”
Yhkon glared at him. “I should hit you with a clutch for that.”
“Crutch,” Grrake’s grin only grew, “and thank you for not acting on that impulse. I have enough broken ribs as it is. Go on, then.”
Once he was out of Grrake’s room, there was only about seven feet between him and the ominous door to Jaylee’s apartment, once Ahjul’s. Not much time to come up with what he should say, or better yet, a way out of it altogether. As if anything he said would come out the way it was supposed to anyway. He’d end up stuttering, or saying something he didn’t mean to, or completely tongue-tied. She’d had that effect on him even before the concussion.
Unfortunately, there was no reasonable way out of it. It had to be done. He gulped down the already rising pressure in his throat and rapped his knuckles against the door.
“Who is it?” Her voice sounded tired. She had lost a lot of blood, and was probably still suffering the consequences.
He barely managed to keep from stuttering on his own name.
There was a long pause. Eventually, “Come in.”
He opened the door. She was in bed, paler than usual, eyes drowsy. They narrowed as she scrutinized him. He missed the energy she had always had. Even the first few days after he’d ended things, she’d still had it. But after that…she’d just been closed off. “You okay?”
Jay concluded her inspection of him. “I’m alright, thanks to Grrake. You?”
He glanced down at his leg. It wasn’t his first broken limb, and he doubted it would be the last. “Fine. I…” His jaw tightened. Gulping again only slightly eased it. “Can I sit?”
A slight dip of her head was the only answer.
Setting himself on the very edge of the bed, only enough to take the weight off his legs, he took a deep breath. “I came to ap-apol…to say I’m sorry.”
By the way her expression twitched without softening, he expected her to make him clarify what for, even though she must have known. She nodded instead. “And what now?”
That was easier than expected. Though she hadn’t exactly accepted the apology, only acknowledged it. “Well,” he rubbed the nape of his neck, “maybe we can j-just be…friends.”
Still no sign of warming up. “If that was all you wanted, why were you so tempted to be more before the concussion, and so willing during?”
Should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Knowing if he lied or tried to edge around the truth she would catch it, and that she probably already knew the answer, he resigned himself to honesty. It took effort to speak slowly. “Yes, I was tempted, and then d-during I…enjoyed it.” There was no going back now. “But I can’t have anoth-ther uh, relationship, like that.” He briefly made eye contact. “And I think you know…why.”
“I know why you think that. But I don’t necessarily agree.”
It sounded like something Grrake had probably said at some point. “Still,” was all he mumbled.
Jay sighed. “Yhkon…I care about you. And I think you care about me. Am I wrong?”
Unfortunately, “No.”
“Then I don’t think you should refuse to give us a chance. I understand that after losing Tessa, you’re, well, nervous…but who says you’re going to lose me?”
He squeezed his lower lip between his teeth. “Who says I won’t.”
“So you’re just going to keep everyone at arm’s length, because of that possibility? How is that better?”
Why do you have to be so impossible? Yhkon frowned at her. “Jay.” He cleared his throat. “Just friends.”
She huffed and squinted at him, as if he were an obstacle to surmount. And to her, he probably was. It was simultaneously endearing and vexing. “Fine.” The smile he’d missed more than he cared to admit curved her lips. “On one condition. You take me out to dinner, just once.”
It was his turn to squint at her. It’s a trap. “Why w-would I do that?”
“Because you owe me.”
“For what?”
“Being a jerk.”
“But why—”
“Yhkon,” she crossed her arms, staring sternly at him even as she simpered, “just dinner.”
Absolutely impossible. And somehow irresistible. “One dinner.”
Her grin became triumphant, and all the more beautiful. “Done. Next Werday. You can continue your grovelling then, and perhaps by that time I’ll be ready to forgive you.” She made a shooing motion. “Now I’m tired. Don’t press your luck on my hospitality.”
He shook his head, unable to keep from a bit of a smile. Just as he was getting up to leave, she spoke again. “What are those?”
The letters. “Ap-parently they’re from my moth-ther.”
“I heard something about your royal lineage…read any of them?”
“Not yet.”
Her head tilted as she looked at him. “So I take it you talked to Grrake? Maybe mended some things?”
He answered with a nod.
“I’m glad.” She smiled. “Now off with you, go meet your mom the queen of Sanonyn.”
As told, he hobbled his way back to his quarters, happy to sit down and set the crutches aside. The packet of letters was becoming damp where he gripped it with a perspiring hand. Part of him was curious. The other part, vaguely terrified and reluctant.
There was no reason to put it off. He’d spent two decades thinking his mother had died when he was a toddler, now he knew she was very much alive, and had the proof in his hands. He took a deep breath and opened the first letter.
28
Captain
T he shimmering, teal satin gown was one of the most comfortable things Talea had ever worn, the fabric unbelievably soft against her skin. The corset underneath, however, was far from comfortable. She sucked in as deep a breath as she could, her ribs squished against the cage-like garment. Her feet, meanwhile, had to be pinched into gorgeous shoes that seemed entirely inappropriate for walking.
A knock at the door. Hiking up her skirt even though it wasn’t necessary, Talea crossed from her bedroom to the main room of her apartment. A whole apartment. In a palace. So crazy. She flung open the door, nearly startling Yhkon. “Yhkon! I feel ridiculous in this…this…well, this. I’m not a princess! And why do we need a whole ceremony? I mean really. Whose idea—”