Page 43 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)
Bellam slowed as she reached Maxim. She stood before him, her gaze lifting, bright with genuine excitement. There was no mistaking her enthusiasm to finally meet him, her soft blue eyes shining with something between curiosity and quiet awe.
“Bellam,” Maxim said, taking her hand lightly. He leaned in just enough for their cheeks to near before drawing back. “At last, we meet. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Bellam’s eyes danced from mine to Maxim, then back again. “Isara, I’ve never seen you so happy and content. He truly is perfect for you.”
Maxim looked down at me, as if seeing me through Bellam’s eyes. Whatever he saw made a slow, satisfied grin spread across his face.
Roan flashed a smile, his dimple deepening as he realized his moment had arrived. His usual playful energy buzzed around him like static, his expression an intricate blend of anticipation and strategy. He might have been ready for anything—anything except what actually happened.
Bellam ignored him completely.
Not so much as a glance in his direction as he pulled out her chair. No acknowledgment, no hesitation. Instead, her gaze drifted past him, landing on me, and her lips curved into a smile so magnetic that everything else in the room seemed to vanish.
Behind her, Roan stood frozen, waiting for—expecting—her attention.
As the silence stretched, it became clear he wasn’t going to get it.
I noticed the subtle shift in his stance, the tightening of his jaw.
It wasn’t just that she had bypassed him.
It was the complete absence of recognition, the way she moved as though he didn’t exist.
I leaned toward her. “Bell,” I spoke through my teeth, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. She was dangerously close to being unforgivably rude.
Bellam turned to Roan, her smile faltering slightly. “Good evening, Roan.”
His brows pulled in a bit. “Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I did,” she said with a painted smile, “all of them.”
“Oh,” Lourdes smirked. “This is making more sense.”
Roan fidgeted. “I was… I was hoping to… to… pick you up so we could ride here together.”
Lourdes frowned, suddenly unamused.
Watching Roan flounder so spectacularly was something I never imagined witnessing.
From the way Lourdes and Leopold exchanged glances, I could tell they felt the same awkwardness I did.
Roan was a different man around Bellam, one I didn’t quite recognize, and not necessarily in a good way.
It was clear when Lourdes stopped being entertained by her brother’s discomfort, things had gone too far.
“Bell,” I said, reaching behind me. “My zipper keeps slipping, and I think I missed a hook. Would you mind coming to the ladies’ room with me?”
“Not at all,” Bellam replied, standing.
She trailed behind me as we crossed the dining area, her steps quickening as we moved down the hall to the ladies’ room. Once inside, the panel secured behind us, the click echoing in an area far too spacious for a single toilet.
Turning to face her, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Have you lost your mind?” I asked, my voice tight with disbelief.
Bellam covered her eyes with one hand. “I think so, yes.”
“This restaurant? It’s practically theirs. It’s not funny anymore, Bell. Did you see Lourdes’s face? You’ve insulted them.”
“That’s not my intention, I promise you, Isara. It’s just that…” She trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words.
“Spit it out. Right now.”
She swallowed. “He called after you left with Maxim to go climbing the other day. He… Roan… called, and we, uh, we went to brunch.”
“Okay?” I blinked, my chin lowering. Blood began to boil beneath my cheeks. “ What did he do?”
“Nothing!” Bellam covered her face with both hands this time. “Nothing, he was wonderful. And charming, funny, beautiful… all the usual Roan things.”
I shook my head, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“So, we went to dinner.” She stumbled over her words and her hands fell to her sides. “Then he took me to lunch on Wednesday, and dinner again last night.”
“Bellam,” I said, my voice much sharper than intended. “What was all that about?” I asked, gesturing in the direction of our table.
“He… he almost kissed me last night—I think. He leaned in, and once I realized what he was doing, I jumped to my feet, babbled some excuse and practically sprinted to the nearest Skith port. It was humiliating! I can barely face him. I’ve felt sick about it all day.
I’ve had this overwhelming sense of dread, as if simply coming here was a march toward my own death. ”
“Over an almost-kiss? That can’t be all it is. What is really going on with you?”
“I don’t know! I’m just trying to get through the evening!” Her eyes glossed over.
“Don’t cry,” I begged, turning to get tissue.
She took it, lightly dabbing her under eyes.
“It’s truly fine, Bellam. You’re okay. Just… slip into your unctuous persona, the one you use with the pious neanderthals from The Citadel every day.”
She nodded.
“We have to get back out there before Roan comes to check on you, and you know he will.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. With one last dab, she turned toward the threshold.
The walk back to the table stretched longer than it should have. Not in a literal sense. The distance was the same, the lighting just as dim and warm, but something in my stomach knotted as we approached. Maxim noticed and stood to pull out both of our chairs.
“Welcome back, my love.”
“Thank you,” I said, seating myself at the same time Bellam did.
Maxim’s gesture not only subjugated the awkwardness of our arrival but kept Roan in his seat.
I scanned the table for expressions. Lourdes was suspicious. Roan was only relieved that Bellam had returned.
“Did you find a solution for the zipper?” Lourdes asked.
“We did,” Bellam said, settling in.
“Are you okay?” Roan asked, leaning toward her.
Bellam looked at him and smiled. “Fine. Thanks for asking. I noticed the gardens on the way here. The seasonal rotation has shifted fully into spring.” She scanned the table. “They seem to be opulent this time of year, don’t you agree?”
Roan steadied himself, clearly confused, but I’d seen Bellam take control of a conversation before. She could steer them with such finesse, even Leopold would be impressed, had he realized what she was doing.
Lourdes offered an assured smile. “Oh, without question. There’s something almost poetic about the way the blossoms emerge right on schedule, as if nature itself were honoring Chiron’s vision.
” She smoothed a hand over the table’s polished surface, the movement as fluid as her tone.
“I do find the symmetry of it all rather… soothing.”
I shot a side glance at Lourdes. She knew exactly what Bellam was up to—and playing along.
Bellam nodded, her eyes brightening at the sight of the server, sure to distract Roan for at least a while longer.
“Andress,” Lourdes said, also grateful for the disruption. “Good evening.”
“Primara Vasthane,” Andress said with a polite grin. She carried a tray of drinks, distributing them around the table.
“Your usual,” she said to Lourdes, setting down a stemmed crystal leir. “And for you, Primar.” Andress lowered a short leir of amber liquid with a ball of ice in front of Roan, though he barely looked at it. She turned to me with a patient smile, placing another stemmed leir in front of me.
“The gentleman ordered for you, Senior Advisor Poeima, but if you’d like something else…” she trailed off.
“This is fine,” I smiled at Maxim in appreciation. “He knows what I prefer.”
Maxim leaned over to kiss my temple. “Yes, I do.”
“I ordered your usual,” Roan said to Bellam as Andress set her drink before her.
Bellam shot a glance at me, desperately trying not to shrink away from Lourdes’s narrowing glare. It wasn’t aimed at Bellam, though, but at her brother.
“And finally, Primar Vasthane and Maxim,” Andress said, lowering their deep, stemmed leirs. “Vinterra Nocturne 2218, deep pour, precisely decanted at sixteen degrees Celsius. Structured body with a layered finish.”
“And?” Leopold prompted.
Andress grinned. “Supplicant-friendly, of course.”
Satisfied, Leopold swirled the deep ruby liquid, peering into the leir as the legs of the wine crawled back to the bottom. He took a whiff, then a small taste.
“Shall I allow it to aerate further, or is it to your preference?” Andress asked.
Maxim gave an approving nod without the taste test, while Leopold simply lifted his leir toward Andress in silent acceptance.
Andress handed off the tray to a Hiven passing by and clasped her hands together. “Will you be needing a few more moments before ordering the first course?”
Lourdes barely glanced at the menu before gesturing for it to disappear. “Andress, I’ll start with the Alveare Amuse-Bouche, and the Salmon with white truffle puree for the main course.”
Bellam ordered next, then Roan. I suddenly felt under pressure, still looking for something that stood out to me.
Maxim leaned in slightly, speaking low enough for only me to hear. “The Vellichor Consommé is a nice choice, considering your leanings toward layered, earthy flavors. And for the main course, the saffron-poached halibut,” he suggested. “The balance of umami and acidity will suit your palate.”
The corners of my lips curved. “You’re sure?”
His nod was almost imperceptible, but there was secret excitement in it.
I gestured to excuse the menu. “The Vellichor Consommé, and the halibut for the main course.”
Maxim’s expression transformed into something I hadn’t quite seen before—a quiet satisfaction, as though the moment meant something more to him than just an order.
Lourdes caught it immediately. “Okay, that’s adorable.”
Maxim sat back, not flustered in the least. “Understanding Isara goes beyond purpose. It’s something I genuinely value.”