Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)(25)
His chest puffed a bit, giving me a real, proud smile. “Thank you, Sadie.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmured.
King Townsend hummed quietly, sipping from his whiskey, eyes evaluating me over his glass, flicking to Fergus, then back to me, and he asked bluntly, “I wonder if anyone has ever asked if you want children, Ms. Farrow. I’m guessing by your reaction to Kincaid’s, you would like a few at some point in time.”
My lips curved, and realizing it was a bit sad. “I do want children eventually.”
And Kincaid would lose his…
Fergus, being Fergus, tried to lighten the mood, stating dramatically, “Oh, Sadie, dear.” A deep contented sigh, making me chuckle as I glanced up at him, batting my eyelashes furiously, our own personal brand against King Townsend. He whispered, “I can help you with that, since I adore children, too.”
My grin lifted even further as King Townsend choked on his drink.
I went languid against him, realizing I was still stiff.
Fergus chuckled quietly, his voice still dramatic. “But, dear, we first need to practice your cooking skills a bit more.” A pause with a thoughtful expression. “And have sex. Since we’ve never done that.”
I turned my face against his chest, cracking up.
King Townsend walked away, still choking.
Kincaid held his hand out to Fergus. “Pay up. I told you it would be my King to interrogate her first.”
Fergus released me with a squeeze while he dug for his wallet, muttering under his breath.
I wiped my eyes calmly, and peered up to the silent Elder, who was watching the two Prodigies with amusement. “Good evening, Elder Merrick.”
He dipped his head to me, and from my low vantage point, I caught him ogling my cleavage before he lifted his head. “Good evening, Ms. Farrow. I trust you’re feeling better?”
I nodded once. “Yes, I’m feeling much better.” I cocked my head. “Do you believe this evening will be as interesting as what,” I tilted my head to happy Kincaid and grumbling Fergus, “they think?”
“Possibly.” A shrugged shoulder. “Or it could turn out to just be a nice meal.”
“Ms. Farrow, how are you this evening?” King White’s voice broke into our quiet conversation.
My lips twitched as I ducked my head, because—I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again—a meal was never just a meal with Royals. “I’m well, thank you, King White. And how are you this evening?”
His red head of hair dipped cordially. “I’m doing wonderful this evening, Ms. Farrow.” Brown eyes up to Fergus—are you kidding me?—before darting to mine. “I thought it time we invite you here, since you’ve been demanding so much of my Prodigy’s attention at your apartment.”
My lips curved slightly, getting a real good feeling for how this evening was going to go, deciding it was definitely the latter of the two they had been doing, not biding their time at all.
Cool words from Fergus. “Demanding isn’t the correct form of expression I would use.”
The King’s eyes flittered to mine. “What would you call it, Ms. Farrow?”
My eyebrows rose a bit. “That would be simple, King White. I would call it camaraderie.”
Fergus grinned, and I watched as King White’s brows lifted a bit at me while he stated steadily, “I believe tonight will definitely be stimulating.” Then, he glanced to Fergus, jerking his head in the other Kings direction. “We have a few business policies to discuss before dinner is served.” A head nod toward me. “Excuse us, Ms. Farrow.”
Once Fergus left, and seeing Elder Merrick and Kincaid had begun talking quietly, I moved around behind them. I kept my grin at bay as Elder Merrick snuck his hand behind his back while he was speaking, fingers brushing out, running along mine softly, our fingertips lingering against each other’s, utterly hidden, until they separated in tender secret.
I didn’t look back, moving to the large bar on the side of the room where Venclaire stood, fixing myself a small glass of vodka straight up, my brows pinching as I slowed my actions while I glanced to Venclaire. He was standing very still, his eyes unfocused out the picturesque window, which would normally inspire someone to smile at the subtle splendor, but his blue eyes…they were distant as he held his drink without sipping, his gaze appearing…haunted and agonized. Instantly worried, I placed a hand on his arm, not giving any indication I felt it when he jolted in surprise at the contact, his gaze slamming down to mine while I whispered, “Are you okay?”
His face…it changed…completely blanking to the man I had gotten to know, and he smiled charmingly, patting my hand—covertly removing it—as he stated calmly, “Of course.” I nodded instantly, sipping from my drink, following his lead, this obviously not a subject he wanted to touch on since he played it off so well, the fa?ade completely well scripted, and executed…normally. “How’s your evening going?”
“Wonderful.” I filled him in, since it would be odd if he hadn’t heard in this room.
He cheered me good naturally, our glasses clinking softly. “Congrats, although, you’ll need more of those drinks to deal with their onslaught. It’s unfair, really. Four against one.”
“Maybe, but don’t let them know I’m on to them,” I whispered conspiratorially, and then glanced about the room. “Aren’t King Samson and Nelson joining us?”