Page 45 of Grand Romantic Delusions and the Madness of Mirth, Part One
“I might have also suggested that with a smaller group, over the next few days and in more private areas, that some aspects of the … protocol could be loosened.” Anne touches my back lightly, then leans closer to brush a kiss against my temple.
Then she pivots back the way we came, leaving me to navigate breakfast on my own.
I pick up my pace, finding myself returning the lazy, utterly genuine smile that Sully levels my way. Then I turn that smile on everyone else with a sweep of the room.
“Good morning,” I say to everyone.
A murmured chorus of greetings filters back to me. Bolan shifts out of the chair at the head of the table at my approach. My chair, I realize, which he seems to have deliberately claimed prior to my arrival — presumably as part of some power play among the shifters.
Except I don’t want to sit at the head of the table.
Aware that everyone is watching me, though thankfully they’re slightly less obvious about it, I skirt around Bolan. Sully leans back, arching his neck invitingly, and I barely manage to stop myself from pressing a kiss to his lips.
“That sweater looks fucking delectable on you,” Sully says. “Though it hides way too much of your ass.”
Confirming that I was correct about how the outfit appeared in my closet — as Sully’s courting gift — I simply shrug playfully. “You only have yourself to blame.”
Sully chuckles. The sound somehow twists through me, gently warming places that haven’t been warm in months. Possibly longer.
I hover between Sully and Christoph, leaning in over the table — and aware that I still have everyone’s attention. Then I deposit the peach on a side plate before the duke .
The hum of energy in the room shifts, not at all subtly, as everyone’s attention homes in on the peach.
I say nothing, still just smiling like an idiot as I withdraw my hand.
Elias stands, pivoting around his chair and offering it to me. “Coffee? Tea?”
I slide into the seat. “Just some juice, please.”
I sit, aware of the others shifting closer and settling around me as I watch Christoph produce a short blade— seemingly from his boot— then slowly slice into the peach. Eating it directly off the edge of the knife, he takes the first slice in his teeth, then sucks it swiftly into his mouth.
And yes, I’m still watching him. Too closely.
Christoph offers the second piece to me. I take it — with my fingers, quashing an intense need to lean into him and eat it directly off the edge of the blade as he’s done.
The entire room watches our interaction. Oddly, I’m not at all bothered by the attention.
“Mmm,” I say. “So tasty.”
Radek, who has settled into the seat directly across from me, groans under his breath. I swear I can feel Bolan’s fixed stare burning into the side of my face.
“The next fucking piece is mine,” Sully declares, pouting playfully. “I want to taste anything and everything Mir tastes.”
Caden, his eyes more dark-blue than purple in the morning light, stretches across the table to set a small plate of pastries in front of me before sitting with his own full plate next to Radek. “There’d better be a piece of that for each of us,” the footballer declares.
Laughing, Miller and Diaz settle to their chosen’s right. They’ve also grabbed hot breakfast items.
“Oh, not me,” Isla declares prettily from the end of the table. “I don’t like peaches. ”
Amusement rumbles through the room.
Then Christoph deliberately holds the next piece out … to me again.
“What?” Sully cries. “I thought you liked me, Duke.”
Elias places an orange juice in front of me, then a plate loaded with a curated selection of warm breakfast items. He settles next to me with his own plate.
I take the slice of peach from Christoph. Then, completely improperly, I turn and hold it out to Elias. “Thank you for breakfast.”
The earl blinks for a brief moment, then leans forward slightly.
Hesitant. As if he’s just checked himself from eating it out of my hand, as I had done with Christoph.
Instead, Elias brushes his fingertips against my own, so lightly that I feel his energy more than his touch as he takes the peach slice and eats it.
Forcing me to watch his mouth, his teeth, his tongue as he does so … out of politeness, of course.
“You are very welcome …” Elias hesitates, stopping himself from saying my title. Then he adds, “Euphrosyne.”
Across from Christoph, with Lukas on her left and Radek on her right, Tereza chuckles huskily. “Well, this is going to be fun.”
I laugh, feeling oddly settled. Then I eat every other slice of the peach — other than the one Sully manages to snatch — that Christoph shares with me.
I also eat my breakfast, despite usually being uncomfortable eating in public. I eat every last bite that Elias brought me, plus two of the pastries from Caden. As if I’m surrounded by friends.
And it’s possible that … I am.
It’s possible that I had no reason to ever cultivate close friendships before, to accept that people might want to be part of my life, because I had Armin .
The matchmaking event might feel epically fake and forced. But that doesn’t mean I have to treat it that way.
I can hope … can trust? … that the suitors who have chosen to remain have done so because of genuine interest in my own companionship as well.
The table next to me is littered with pretty, ridiculously expensive— maybe even priceless— trinkets.
Anne is perched in the plush chair to my right, officially noting and taking a picture of each courting gift as it’s presented to me, tracking it all on a spreadsheet on her tablet.
The currently empty chair to my left is reserved for the presentation of gifts and a bit of conversation with each of my suitors.
While everyone else watches.
The conservatory has been rearranged slightly for this presentation event.
And with each gift and mandatory chat, I retreat more and more into the perfect-princess persona that I successfully shed for the duration of breakfast. I can feel myself doing it, losing the ease that I found through the meal, but I can’t seem to halt the reaction.
The Hernandez bond group as a whole gifted me a ski in/ski-out chalet in Whistler, presumably because of the stupid ‘best salmon I’ve ever eaten’ story I told them during the charity football match.
I’m sure it’s a beautiful property, but I don’t take in any of the details or retain any of the stilted conversation with Diaz.
Because it just reminds me — no matter how much I try to not let the thoughts rise — that my beloved brother died in a skiing accident.
Diaz, Miller, and Caden each gave me a personal gift as well — the aforementioned pricy trinkets, including a set of emerald-crusted stacking rings, an emerald-and-platinum bracelet, and a pretty emerald pendant. Emerald, I presume, because it’s my birthstone. Matching Armin’s emerald on my finger.
I’ve already passed the antique coin necklace from the Merton bond group to Anne.
The one that belonged in a museum before being literally destroyed by drilling a hole through it.
But Noah’s and Isla’s courting gifts are at least slightly more personal.
A gorgeous hand-painted cashmere scarf from a textile artist who apparently sells only ten such scarves a year— a detail proudly proclaimed to the room by Isla.
And a lovely English countryside landscape painting from an artist I don’t know.
“An upcoming talent,” Noah informs me, in a much more subdued tone than his chosen mate.
Back at the beginning of this courting-gift endurance test, when I still felt truer to myself, Christoph had presented me with a small, branchless peach tree.
A whip, he called it. We had a short but pleasant conversation about picking a south-facing location for it in the garden, and how to prune and protect it in the winter months.
It’s Elias’s turn now. He slides into the seat next to me, pulling me partly out of my head. I’m fairly certain Anne is controlling the order of presentation, but I haven’t yet caught her doing so.
I politely turn my attention to the blond mage, meeting his sharp blue eyes with a slight smile. He’s pulled on a gray suit jacket and a tie since breakfast. As if donning armor? For an utterly idiotic moment, I miss the sight of his sleekly muscled forearms.
“Lord Hereford.”
Elias dips his chin, offering me a slight nod in lieu of a more formal bow. “Your Royal Highness.” He holds a plain envelope, his smile sharpening as he notices my attention shift to it. “Don’t worry, Euphrosyne.” He leans slightly closer to murmur, “It isn’t another property deed.”
I can’t help smiling, ignoring the snort from Bolan. The sharp-eared rock star is sprawled at the end of the settee across from me, still mainlining coffee. I also continue to ignore the fact that I’m concerned he hasn’t eaten enough. Isn’t eating enough.
And that I still have no idea why he’s participating in this fiasco at all.
The members of the Hernandez and Landenberg bond groups wander back to the buffet, which has been refilled with cakes and other treats.
Isla perches on the arm of Noah’s chair to my far left, her head dipped close to her awry bonded and a soft smile on her face.
Christoph is sipping tea while he seemingly tries to brace one of the steel girders that support the glass walls and ceiling with his back.
Sully rises from the other side of the settee, stepping through the grouping of chairs to sit on the floor next to my crossed ankles. He leans into my legs, twisting to look up at me. “The earl’s courting gift is really thanks to all of us.”
Elias scoffs slightly. “Only if showing up uninvited constitutes collaboration in your mind, Salvatore.”
Sully flashes the earl a toothy grin, unrepentant. “Mentioning that I’m about to beat the shit out of Bolan on all my socials draws a certain amount of attention. Pushed the event over capacity, didn’t it?”