Thorne Princess(84)

Ransom was always in my periphery, but never too close. He orbited around me, giving me space and keeping an eye on me at the same time.

After the ceremony came the unrehearsed dinner, and with it, my speech. The couple’s families sat in a row over a long, chiffon-covered table. Candlelight flickered across the garden. Hera looked regal with a crown of flowers in her hair, smiling up at me with admiring eyes. She played the part so well. Only difference was, these days I didn’t envy her for it. I pitied her. Pretending full-time must be exhausting.

I stood up, clinking my fork against my champagne glass. I had not touched a drop of alcohol throughout the wedding. I was proud of myself. Drinking had been my go-to strategy to survive family functions. Today, I was oddly present. I let myself feel, even when it wasn’t pleasant.

Ransom was sitting across the garden on an antique white bench, casually conversing with a man I was pretty sure was from the CIA. I still couldn’t believe I’d made this man break one of his rules and have sex with me. Kiss me. A powerful buzz shot through me.

“Hello, all.” I smiled to the audience, peppering the gesture with a little wave. “Truth is, I’ve had a whole speech prepared and memorized for the occasion, but of course, me being me, now that it’s time to say something, I’m going to take a page out of my eyeliner’s book and just wing it.”

Chuckles erupted from across the table, accompanied by light claps.

I turned to look at Hera, whose tight smile collapsed like a poorly-constructed LEGO tower.

“Hera and Craig, Craig and Hera.” I sighed, knowing how stressed out my sister must be. “So perfectly matched, I couldn’t come up with a more fitting couple even if I tried.”

So far, not even one lie, and a very minimal dose of passive-aggressiveness. I was sure the unhappy couple could read between the lines. My hand shook slightly while clasping the champagne glass when I felt Craig’s eyes burning a hole through my cheek. My gaze stumbled to Ransom on instinct. He gave me a curt nod.

Continue. You are standing up for yourself. Fuck them.

“Hera is a woman of many facets. Daughter, sister, doctor, fiancée, a philanthropist. Craig is…you know, Craig.” I hitched one shoulder up. Everyone laughed, well-aware he was not as decorated and celebrated as my sister. “Some of you may wonder—how does a couple stay together for so long? Fifteen years and counting. People are dynamic. They change, evolve. Well, not these two!” I toasted the champagne glass in the air. “Craig and Hera have stayed exactly the same as they were when they first met. Which is why their relationship works.”

Hera shifted uneasily. Craig wrapped an arm over the back of her chair, shooting my dad an unreadable glare. Maybe he hoped Dad would cut me off. Surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Now, moving on to Craig, my new brother-in-law!” I said cheerfully. “Good ol’ Craig. You think you know him, but trust me, this one is full of surprises.”

Craig flashed a painful smile, nodding along, as if we were good friends. The silence blanketing the tables told me people were starting to catch up on the fact that I wasn’t being necessarily straightforward. I needed to wrap this up quickly.

“When I first saw these two together, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were truly meant for each other. I believe that’s still the case. Identical dreams and aspirations, not to mention moral compasses, make these two so right for one another. While it is true that I don’t spend much time with them, I can honestly say, every time we are in the same room, it feels like I’ve never left. They sure know how to create an atmosphere.”

Albeit a shitty one.

“Hera and Craig, I wish you a long, continuous marriage, full of headstrong children who mirror you in every way. To Hera and Craig, everybody.” I lifted the glass in the air.

People cheered, clinked their glasses, and drank. I slanted my gaze to my sister and her husband. They both stared at me vacantly, pale and shell-shocked.

“I improvised.” I smiled sweetly at them. “You don’t mind now, do you?”

When the wedding was over, Ransom tucked me in one of the limos heading back to my parents’ mansion. He sat in the corner opposite from me. I raised the partition between us and the driver as soon as we slipped inside, turning to face him.

“You survived,” he observed, flicking cigar ash from the dash of his blazer.

“Trust me, I’m as shocked as you are.” I was so glad we were alone now. He was beginning to feel more and more like home.

“I’m not shocked. You never give yourself any credit.”

“Ransom?”

“That’s my name.”

“I’m going to Los Angeles tomorrow,” I stated, rather than asked, not leaving him much room to object.

He stared at me dispassionately, mulling this over. “Give me a few days.” This time he asked, not stated.

“No.” I erected my spine, taking a deep breath. “I gave you plenty of time. Los Angeles is not going to become safer in the next day or two. I find Texas triggering. I want to put some distance between myself and Hera and Craig. Surely, you can understand that.”

He did. I knew he did, because he rubbed his knuckles against his sharp jaw, hissing in frustration.

“L.A.’s a den of vipers,” he said quietly.

“To me, Texas is worse.”