Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)(58)

I laughed, and the mood between us finally lightened.

“Not seems. He is. But he’s also family, so we’re stuck with him.” I twisted my ring around my finger, trying to find a tactful way to bring us back to our earlier conversation. “About what happened before Andreas interrupted…”

“I came back because I wanted to come back,” Rhys said. “And…” He paused, like he was debating whether to say what he was about to say. “I didn’t want you to be alone while you’re dealing with all this shit.” He gestured toward our lavish surroundings.

Alone.

It was the second time he’d said it. First on my graduation night, and now. He was right both times.

I’d tried and failed to name the empty, gnawing feeling that’d haunted me since Rhys left. The one that crept up on me when I lay in bed at night and tried to think of something I looked forward to the next day. The one that washed through me at the oddest moments, like when I was in the middle of an event or pretending to laugh along with everyone else.

Now, I had a name for it.

Loneliness.

“Well.” I smiled, trying to hide how much his words had affected me. “It’s nice to have you back, Mr. Larsen. At least, when you’re not acting like a grade-A you-know-what.”

He chuckled. “It’s nice to be back, princess.”

This was the reunion I’d wanted. I didn’t like Andreas, but at least he’d broken the ice between me and Rhys.

“So, where do we go from here?” No matter what we said, he wasn’t just my bodyguard, and deep down, we both knew it.

“We go wherever you go,” Rhys said. “I keep you safe. The end.”

“You make it sound so simple.” When reality is so complicated. Between Costa Rica, his departure, and his reappearance right when pressure to find a “suitable” husband bore down on me, I felt like a bug stuck in a web of secrets and responsibilities I couldn’t free myself from.

“It is simple.” Rhys spoke with such quiet confidence it resonated in my bones. “I made a mistake when I left, and I’m fixing it.”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Though I imagine you’ll make it as difficult for me as possible.”

I let out a soft laugh. “When have things ever been easy for us?”

But even though I was still upset with Rhys for leaving in the first place, I realized something. The empty, gnawing feeling had disappeared.





24





Bridget





“Might I say, you look absolutely beautiful tonight, Your Highness,” Edwin, the Count of Falser, said as he guided me across the dance floor.

“Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.” With his sandy-colored hair and athletic build, Edwin wasn’t hard on the eyes, but I couldn’t summon much enthusiasm beyond my bland compliment.

After weeks of frenzied planning, the night of my big ball was finally here, and I couldn’t be more underwhelmed. My dance partners had all been duds so far, and I hadn’t had a chance to so much as breathe since I arrived. It’d been dance after dance, small talk after small talk. I hadn’t eaten anything other than the two strawberries I snuck from the dessert table between dances, and my heels felt like razor blades strapped to my feet.

Edwin puffed out his chest. “I do put a lot of effort into my appearance,” he said in a poor attempt at a humble tone. “Athenberg’s top tailor customized my tuxedo, and Eirik—recently named by Vogue as Europe’s top hairstylist—comes to my house every two weeks for maintenance. I also built a new gym in my house. Maybe you’ll see it one day.” He shot me a cocky smile. “I don’t want to brag, but I believe it’ll match anything you have in the palace. Top-of-the-line cardio machines, DISKUS dumbbell sets made of Grade 303 non-reactive stainless steel…”

My eyes glazed over. Dear God. I would rather listen to my last dance partner analyze Athenberg’s traffic patterns during rush hour.

My dance with Edwin thankfully ended before he could expound further on his gym equipment, and I soon found myself in the arms of my next suitor.

“So.” I smiled gaily at Alfred, the son of the Earl of Tremark. He was a few inches shorter than me, and I had a direct view of his balding spot. I tried not to let it deter me. I didn’t want to be one of those shallow people who only cared about looks, but it would be easier not to focus on his looks if he gave me something else to work with. He hadn’t looked me in the eye once since we started dancing. “I hear you’re quite the, er, bird connoisseur.”

Alfred had built an aviary on his estate, and according to Mikaela, one of his birds famously pooped on Lord Ashworth’s head during the Earl’s annual spring ball.

Alfred mumbled a reply.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I said politely.

Another mumble, accompanied by a crimson flush that spread all the way to his bald spot.

I did us both a favor and stopped talking. I wondered who’d forced him to attend tonight and who was having a worse time—him or me.

I stifled a yawn and looked around the ballroom, searching for something interesting to hold my attention. My grandfather held court with a few ministers in the corner. Mikaela hovered near the dessert table, flirting with a guest I didn’t recognize, and Andreas snaked through the crowd, looking like, well, a snake.