Page 34 of Grand Romantic Delusions and the Madness of Mirth, Part One

On the short drive from the airstrip to Lake Thun Castle, Eleanor falls into a light slumber at my side.

My father might have announced Lake Thun as the location for the matchmaking event, but I have no doubt that Anne suggested it to him after our conversation, concerned about my sensitivity to the intersection point.

When Armin and I were younger, we spent most of our school breaks at Lake Thun, most often accompanied by a selection of friends that always included Bolan and Sully.

Though Anne and even Eleanor would stay with us, my father rarely attended more than a few dinners.

He’s been upgrading and restoring the castle for the last couple of years, however, including a full renovation of the residences.

So I can’t clearly recall the last time I’ve stayed overnight.

With Eleanor’s energy sleepily muted and bullet-and-essence-proof glass between me and the guards in the front of the vehicle, the dark silence of the evening encroaches. I don’t usually have an issue with darkness, or even being alone, but —

Actually, that’s an utter lie.

I’ve never been truly alone, even when Armin was off on a trip or otherwise engaged. I always surrounded myself with friends and family. And I’m not truly alone now either.

I’ve just segregated myself.

Am I … punishing myself?

Is that why I overreacted to Caden’s energy? Am I so needy, so shallow, that seeing him with his bond group did … what? Reminded me of everything I thought I had, yet don’t?

And whose fault is that?

I’ve been blaming Armin. Somewhere, buried in all this guilt and grief and, yes, even anger, I’m blaming Armin for leaving me to … fend for myself?

What was I thinking all my life? That my brother would never form his own bond group? With all his power, I have no doubt that he had soul-bonded mates just waiting for him, ready to revolve around him, to form their own family.

I have no doubt that he would have been the crux of that group. Just as I’m fairly certain Caden is the Hernandezes’ crux.

Eleanor snores lightly, pulling me back into the moment instead of indulging in this …

wallowing … inside my mind. The world sliding past outside the window comes back into focus.

The vehicle weaves through the small township of Thun, ten minutes out from the castle.

The streets are softly lit, and the few people out and about despite the misty evening raise their hands in greeting as we pass.

The car is recognizable even without the obvious crest on the doors.

I could have this. I could have a life. But it won’t look anything like the life I’ve been living, nor will it look like anything I dreamed of when I was younger, when love always seemed a whisper of possibility. Even though it never really was .

But people adapt. People heal. People move on.

And I am so fucking privileged that all I have to do is reach out and take what’s being offered to me.

My phone buzzes in my bag with a text. I turned it off silent mode since reconnecting with Sully, even though that contact still feels … stilted, distant. As if in my wallowing, I pushed my friend away enough to make him hesitant even when simply texting.

I tug the phone free from my bag, noting that the message is from an unknown number. Frowning, I open it, ready to report it, knowing that such things shouldn’t be able to get past the filters and other software I know nothing about embedded into the phone by the royal tech mages.

Hi. This is Tommy.

Not my phone tho. But I wanted to send you this …

Tommy? Tommy. Tommy who chose a book to read to his sister instead of one for himself. Tommy and his concern about purple eyes. Tommy, who in a weird moment of … honestly, I don’t know how to fully describe it …

Tommy who I felt oddly compelled to give my private number to. More people have my email, of course, but I doubt more than two dozen people have my phone number, and that includes staff and guards.

A picture appears on the screen of the phone.

I instantly click on it to enlarge. Tommy is standing next to a young girl who looks enough like him that it’s easy to see they’re siblings.

Katherine, also known as Kitty. Her features are softer, her hair a darker blond.

The siblings are huddled together, and Tommy is obviously holding the phone he’s using aloft as far as his arm can stretch to take the picture.

Kitty is holding the book her brother selected for her with the princess on the cover, and grinning madly at the camera.

No hint of purple in either of their deep-blue eyes.

But staring at the picture gives me the oddest feeling that I could be happy just looking at them … forever.

I shake my head at my own silliness, save the photo to my phone, then text back.

Thank you so much, Tommy. I love it.

He doesn’t text right away, and I find myself opening the picture again, zooming in and analyzing every bit of it.

Kitty’s wide smile, and her slightly buckled lower teeth.

The chipped pink nail polish on her fingers that’s almost an exact match for the book cover.

Tommy has a faded bruise on his cheek, and he’s wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt.

The siblings look like they’re outside, tucked against a brick building with a bright overhead light spilling over their heads and shoulders.

A few letters are stamped into the brick over Kitty’s head, mostly cropped out of the picture and too weathered for me to read. I zoom in a bit further. Could be a faded heritage mark or an architect’s mark …

Not certain why I’m obsessing, I access the info about the photo, checking the timestamp. It was taken only a moment before Tommy sent it. After 11:00 p.m. Too late for them to be up on a school night. And outside? Without a jacket for Tommy?

I shove that train of thought away. Tommy and Kitty have parents, people who look after them. It’s not my business.

Another text comes through.

Thank you so much for the book – Kitty.

You are very welcome. It’s one of my favorites.

I wait another beat, watching the little bubble that tells me someone is typing on the other end appear, then disappear.

“What are you smiling at?” Eleanor asks sleepily.

I start, becoming suddenly aware that I’m leaning forward eagerly over the phone— and of the grin that has swamped my face. Before I can answer Eleanor, another text comes through.

Got to go. I’m deleting these texts.

I quickly answer, not even thinking about it as my thumbs fly over the letters.

Check in with me again. Soon, please.

Ok.

Goodnight.

Nothing else comes through. No other bubble appears. I wonder whose phone Tommy borrowed that he feels the need to delete my number from it.

Eleanor touches my arm lightly, drawing my attention away from the phone. “Euphrosyne?”

I open the photo of the siblings and show it to Eleanor. “Tommy picked up this book for his sister, Kitty, at my last Read With Me event.”

Eleanor stares down at the phone for a moment. Her expression is neutral, but I’m not surprised when she asks, “And you gave the boy your phone number?”

I take the phone back, double-checking that the photo is properly saved. Firmly and definitively, I say, “I did.”

Still cradling the phone in my hand, I turn to take in the sight of Lake Thun Castle as we drive through the outer wall toward the inner gates.

As the car turns, lights from outside refract against the window, and I catch sight of Eleanor in reflection. She’s smiling to herself, almost smugly.

Only then do I realize …

I forgot that Armin was dead. Just for a moment.