Page 63 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

I blinked, startled. “Oh… okay. Maxim?”

He didn’t hesitate, just leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple, then offered a small smile, watching me for a moment before turning back to Roan and Lourdes.

Bellam tugged again, and I followed her down the stairs and through the press of guests and out into the cool night air.

We crossed the threshold of the main pavilion and stepped onto the quieter edge of the courtyard, where the tiles beneath our feet gave way to floating plinths that hovered like open petals around a central fountain.

This was where the gala breathed—less spectacle, more room for conversation to unfold without the need to compete with the noise.

I pulled back slightly as we walked. “Bellam! No hello? No hug? We’ve barely spoken in a week, and the first thing you do is drag me out of a party like you’re about to confess to treason?”

She didn’t answer until we slipped behind one of the orchid-strewn refreshment terraces into a small alcove lined with forgiving blue light. Half-private, wholly necessary. She faced away from me and took a breath so deep it shuddered through her shoulders.

Then she turned and, with eyes still closed, she said it. “He… kissed me. Last night. After dinner.”

I blinked. “Roan? Did you strike him very hard?”

She cracked one eye open, gauging my expression. Whatever she saw made her flinch. “No! No, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t exactly… unwanted.”

I folded my arms, a hundred questions rising. “You went to dinner with him?”

She nodded, then looked down at the plinth beneath our feet, as if it might offer a safer place to confess.

“You’ve been busy. I’ve been… lonely. He kept asking, and I thought…

what could it hurt? One meal after sunset.

It’s not so different than brunch or meeting for chicory.

But then,” she sighed, defeated. “Isara, he made me laugh. Really laugh. His stories are fascinating. I could’ve listened to him for hours, the way he sees the world, his thoughts on, well, everything.

And last night, he looked… Chiron help me, he looked beautiful.

Even better than he usually does. Everyone was staring at us—mostly him.

He was glowing or something, I can’t explain it.

” She exhaled, defeated. “He was a total gentleman. He complimented me, in such a Roan way. He actually said, ‘ You undo me with nothing more than a glance. You are the storm and the stillness both, and I am ruined for anything less ,’” she said, doing a horrendous impression.

“First of all, why does he talk like that? And second, why do I like it?”

“I… don’t know,” I said, trying to keep any judgment from my expression.

“Then he asked if he could kiss me, and I said yes before I even thought it through. And do you think he waited until I could? Vale no, he pressed his lips to mine, and then held me closer, and then his tongue was in my mouth, his fingers digging into me, and I loved every second of it!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, ducking my head and blinking, as if that would stop her from vividly describing a hormone-fueled collision with a man I considered a brother.

Her voice cracked as she spiraled. “It was amazing. The kind of kiss you feel all the way in your toes. My stomach flipped. My knees felt weak. The whole cliché. Only… it wasn’t cliché at all. Sovereign aren’t just saying it, Isara. It’s real. Have you ever been kissed like that?”

I nodded slowly, breath caught somewhere between memory and ache. “The first time Maxim kissed me… it felt exactly like that.”

Bellam gave a fragile, broken laugh and swept her fingers beneath her eyes, but fresh tears gathered anyway.

“I can’t feel this way. I can’t.” Her voice grew small, like it wasn’t meant for the open air.

“I’ve tried to pretend it was nothing. I truly thought I—unlike every other Sovereign twenty-something—was immune to Roan Vashtane.

My Veritas is in…” Her lips moved silently, doing the math, and then her shoulders dropped, heavy with realization.

“It’s exactly one hundred days from today. ”

“Oh, Bell.” I stepped forward and gathered her into my arms, holding her as if it might keep time itself from moving forward. “We’ll sort this out. I promise. Everything will be fine.”

A quiet cough stirred the air behind us, sharp against the hush. We both stiffened.

“Bell?” Roan’s voice was low and tentative.

I spun, grabbed him by the lapel, and yanked him through the veil of cascading florals into our narrow, hidden alcove.

“Whoa,” he said, hands up, startled. “Easy, Is!”

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed. “Can’t you see she’s barely holding it together? You should’ve ended this absurd conquest weeks ago!”

His eyes went to Bellam instantly. She had turned away, but her shoulders were tight, trembling slightly, betraying the tears her silence tried to hide.

“What happened? Bell, are you all right?” he asked, leaning to see past me.

She turned to us, a sheen still beneath her eyes. Her smile was fragile in a way I’d never seen from her before. “It’s nothing. Isara is being silly. I’m fine.”

“No,” he said, stepping forward with caution, as if too sudden a movement might cause her to run.

“You’re clearly upset. Please… talk to me.

Last night was perfect, wasn’t it? I thought…

I thought it was. But you haven’t answered any of my messages.

You barely spoke when I met you at the Skith port.

Bellam…” His voice faltered. “What’s changed? ”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

“Darling,” he begged, stepping forward just a step. “You’re not all right. You were happier than I’d ever seen you at dinner, all evening.” His voice faltered. “What… what did I do?”

Her lips parted, but no words came. When he reached to brush the tear that had gathered beneath her eye, she turned away.

“Nothing has changed.” She said the words as if they hurt her. “That’s the problem, Roan.”

“My love, if I have wounded you—by word or deed—it was unintentional, I assure you. The shame of it will haunt me. I would sooner suffer a thousand regrets than be the cause of even one of yours,” he said, reaching for her.

“My lo—?” I stepped in, sharp and swift, placing myself between them.

“Roan, this has to stop. You’ve always struggled with being told no.

Bellam saw through the charm. It’s not the end of the world.

But persisting like this is unfair to her.

I know it’s uncomfortable, and it may even bruise something in you.

You can’t dress it up in Bronte and desperate declarations.

If this is truly about love, then say so.

But if it’s about being refused… have the decency to admit that, too. ”

His hands dropped to his sides. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Whatever I did… whatever I said… I’m sorry, Bellam. Truly.”

“So, you didn’t mean it,” Bellam said.

Roan stepped around me, taking her hands in his. “I’ve never said a word to you I didn’t mean. Not once. Not even the first moment.”

Bellam looked into his eyes, then pulled her hands away.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, desperately trying to form a smile.

“Spending time with you was lovely, Roan. It was. But Isara is right. It’s getting messy.

We should just focus on our individual responsibilities, and futures, and…

you were fun. My Bacchanal Years are over. ” She shrugged. “It’s time to grow up.”

“ Lovely and fun ,” Roan said, looking as if he were trying to swallow a stone.

Bellam nodded to him, then gestured for me to follow her back to the gala, but she hadn’t taken more than a few steps before he stopped her.

“Would you… would you dance with me?” he asked, even more desperate than before. “It’s a party, after all… our first one together.”

Bellam glanced over her shoulder for anyone who might be watching. “We shouldn’t.”

He breathed out as if he’d been struck in the gut, and his shoulders sank.

“Roan,” I breathed out, stunned. “She truly matters to you.”

“No. I mean yes, but,” Roan started, then looked directly at Bellam, pleading in his eyes. “Bell, I’m in love with you.”

She choked on a laugh, tears now streaming.

He stepped forward and took her face gently in his trembling hands, as if holding something too precious to risk.

“It isn’t passing, Bellam. This—whatever you want to call it—it’s a ruinous sort of longing.

It hurts to be away from you. I go looking for you in every quiet moment, in every silence that should feel like peace but doesn’t in your absence and never will.

You’ve settled into the marrow of me. I see no path ahead that doesn’t end with you.

” His voice faltered, just once. “I love you, Bellam. Hopelessly. Entirely.” He leaned down to kiss her, taking her into his arms and holding her close.

She reached for him with both fists clenched in the fabric of his tux jacket, kissing him back.

“Ohhhh no,” I breathed out.

When they parted, Roan kept her close. For the first time, he seemed hopeful. “Dance with me.”

Roan offered his hand, and Bellam, after the briefest hesitation, placed hers in his.

He led her to the center of the pavilion just as the music pivoted slowly into a mournful waltz, something orchestral and aching, threaded with melancholy strings that seemed to hover in the air, a breath suspended in time.

The lights above them dimmed to a muted gold, casting their silhouettes against the translucent panels beneath their feet.

He drew her close, one arm wrapped gently around her waist, the other guiding her hand to his shoulder.

She didn’t resist. They danced as if memorizing each step, each breath, each brush of skin, as if willing the moment to imprint itself into memory, something neither of them ever wanted to forget.