Page 5 of Grand Romantic Delusions and the Madness of Mirth, Part Two

The weave of essence still threaded around us — a connection born through a lifetime of friendship and solidified through shared grief — tightens over us.

“I love you, Euphrosyne,” Sully whispers, cupping my pussy tightly as the lingering sparks of my orgasm fade.

Something more than skin deep snaps into place between us. As if just for the next breath, our souls splinter into each other, resolving into one whole. Together.

Sully brushes his lips against mine.

And we’re two people again.

A tiny sliver of the empty space that Armin’s death has left in my soul, the space I acknowledged as I released a single handful of his ashes to the wind, isn’t quite so empty anymore.

“Mine,” Sully murmurs.

“Mine,” I agree. “Forever, now.”

“No, Mirth.” His tone is deadly serious. “It’s always been forever between us. I tried to be Armin’s, but it was you I needed. It was always you. And if I have to spend the rest of our life together proving it, I’ll do so gladly.”

Reality tries to intrude, and a sharp pain coalesces in my chest. “It’s not just me and what I want … which is most definitely you. This is about the intersection point, and …” I swallow harshly, struggling to hold his gaze even as I can feel the protective bubble surrounding us slowly dissolve.

“I know,” he says simply and definitively. “And we’re going to prove that we’re the best choice overall. Even if you don’t want to fuck all of us.” Grinning saucily, he pulls his hand free from my panties, then sucks on his middle finger and forefinger.

I blink at him. “We?”

“Yes.” He does up my pants, stepping back to run his gaze over me. Then, seemingly satisfied, he holds his arm out. “I believe we’re late for lunch now.”

I slap his forearm instead of taking it. “Sully!”

He grabs my hand, kissing the back of it tenderly, then twining his fingers through mine. “I’m not supposed to be chasing after you. Yet. It’s not only my secret to tell.”

I narrow my eyes at him even as a completely different warmth slowly spreads through my chest. It feels a lot like hope and contentment, where before I felt only resolve and a sense of duty.

He laughs at my expression, snagging my backpack and swinging it over his shoulder as he leads us toward the bathroom door.

Roz is waiting for us, gazing out the exterior door at the end of the hall.

We’ve exited the building before my well-fucked brain clicks together the little hints Sully has teased.

“You think … you think I can have you and still do my duty?” I whisper, almost too low for my own ears.

But Sully hears me. “It’s not just me. And yes, I know it.”

“Ah, Salvatore!” Tereza says, striding purposefully toward us as we step through the open patio doors that lead into the teacher’s lounge. “You found Her Highness. Lovely.”

“Lord Savoy,” Sully corrects her stiffly. His arm tenses under my touch as he casts his gaze around the cozy room.

High-backed, well-worn brown leather chairs and low oak tables dominate the space. A few huge paintings gifted by famous alumni line the walls, and a linen-and-silver-swathed table has been set up for our luncheon. A fire crackles quietly in a stone fireplace with a wide hearth.

I’ve never set foot within the Phrontistery’s staff lounge. I actually haven’t returned to campus since I left almost five years ago. And Tereza has only been overseeing it all — for her family — for the last year or so.

Tereza’s step hitches, and she clasps her hands together, shifting her gaze between us uncomfortably. “Lord … Savoy?”

My stomach sours a little at the confirmation that Sully has decided to claim his maternal lineage. In order to be with me, I have no doubt.

Tereza’s questioning glance bothers me just a little more than Sully claiming that title, though.

“Official paperwork filed this morning,” Sully says with a shrug, placing his hand on my lower back and guiding me around Tereza toward the table. “Not that the title hasn’t always been mine.”

Tereza blinks at that for a moment, her mind obviously working overtime. In the same moment that she realizes the previously unclaimed title is inherited, I realize that she thought I had bequeathed it on Sully to make him more eligible. Or rather, that my father had bequeathed it at my request.

I instantly bristle. It’s funny how such slights bother me only when they’re directed at someone I love.

That’s such a short list. Even shorter than the list of names I wrote under the influence of the intersection point —

Sully’s hand slips to my waist, squeezing, then pulling me against his body. And I realize that my essence has risen along with my ire.

Tereza’s gaze is firmly fixed to my feet now, her hands twisting together tightly enough that her knuckles have whitened.

“It’s through my mother,” Sully says smoothly, though it’s uncharacteristic for him to bother with being …

diplomatic. “Everyone will know soon enough. Assuming the clerk at the courthouse hasn’t already leaked the information to the media.

” He smirks in my direction. “Eli already has me running errands. First, Zurich early this morning …” Then he snaps his mouth shut as if catching himself from saying too much.

I narrow my eyes at his obvious teasing, even as a little thrill of … something … shimmers through me. Elias … the Earl of Hereford, who also holds a seat on the World Council, and who was one of the names on my apparently not-hallucinated list. Elias is involved in whatever Sully has —

“Well,” Tereza says, stiffly but vigorously, as if she’s grasping for the graceful exit that Sully has flung her way. She skirts the table to take the seat opposite the one Sully has pulled out for me. “That sort of leak can be mitigated. I know the editor-in-chief of —”

Sully waves a hand in her direction, sliding into another chair. “No need.”

I see four place settings, but I’m not certain who else is to join us. After closing the patio doors behind us, Roz has quietly taken up position next to them. She won’t eat. Not even if asked. And Tereza knows better than to ask.

Tereza lifts her golden-hazel eyes to meet my own, and I politely remove my sunglasses. Though only because Sully has seated me with my back to the windows. She clears her throat. “Your Highness …”

Sully shifts his chair so he’s close enough to curl his foot around my own, our ankles touching. Not even attempting to do so with any subtlety.

The contact settles me back into my skin, and I flush a little at the sharpness of his gaze. He doesn’t seem to remotely care that Tereza will read into that look and know … know he’s in love with me? Overtly obsessed with me?

Tereza’s gaze flicks between us. As I assumed it would.

Sully smirks — of course and always — at my reaction, then slumps back in his chair with his typical feigned disinterest. His gaze, hooded and playful now, still rests on me, though.

Refusing to be flustered, I ignore the flush across my face — and in other areas — and take a sip of the water set to the side of my plate. “I appreciate you making time for me, Lady Landenberg.” My use of her title is intentional, and I side-eye Sully to make certain he notices.

His smile widens in delight.

“It’s my pleasure, Your Highness.” Tereza pulls her phone out, pressing a few buttons, then sliding it into her lap. “Though a few of the kitchen staff have remained over the break to see to the students who stay on campus, I ordered —”

“The unwanted brats,” Sully interjects, his tone flat.

Tereza clears her throat, more annoyed than flustered.

Sully has a way of bringing that out in people he doesn’t particularly care about. And his list of loved ones is even shorter than mine.

Actually, I think our lists would be an almost perfect match save for one new addition on my part. Rian.

Oh, fuck.

I told Rian that I wouldn’t take any chosen without talking to him first. Shoving the mild panic away, I take a breath, forcing myself to tune back into the conversation.

Tereza is talking.

“Students stay for a variety of —”

“And one of those reasons is no one gives a shit about them.” Sully sneers dismissively. “Or the assholes who occasionally feign to give a shit are too busy to play at it. I know, don’t I?”

Tereza sighs.

I rescue her. “I’m certain lunch will be lovely. Also unnecessary. I just thought it would create a more comfortable atmosphere.”

“After Bastian almost executed Radek and Lukas for the treason of touching you?” Sully asks me while looking pointedly at Tereza.

It is neither a question nor a condemnation of my father.

“You’re lucky Mirth is so forgiving, Lady Landenberg.

Soul bound or not, losing your chosen, no matter how stupid they might be, would be —”

I breach all sorts of protocol to lay my hand on Sully’s wrist. His gaze instantly snaps to me. The frown marring his forehead eases until his eyes are once again crinkling at the edges. Not smiling, but pleased that I’m touching him.

“I am blessed by Her Highness’s intervention,” Tereza says quietly, though I know by the set of her shoulders that she’s hiding her clenched hands in her lap.

“A misunderstanding,” I say smoothly, speaking to Sully and knowing he has only Bolan’s accounting of events to go by. “As I’m sure you heard.”

Sully twists his lips, not outright disagreeing with me. Not while in public, at least.

The door opens, and two staff members enter with covered plates. We sit in silence — me smiling politely — as we are served, and the trays are removed to reveal a chicken breast stuffed with spinach and wild rice. I hum appreciatively as Tereza waves off the staff.

I carefully slice off a bit of chicken, dipping it in the creamy sauce that also coats the stuffing. I eat it, chewing thoughtfully. Tereza and Sully both start eating after I do.

I set my knife and fork down, taking another sip of water. “We aren’t waiting on a fourth?” I ask.