Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“I missed you every day, Sebastian,” I said. “I missed you, and you never called. Never wrote. Never tried. I certainly wasn’t out having whatever party you think I was.”
His lips were pressed into a thin line, like he would explode if he spoke one word.
A soft knock at the door was followed by the slow clatter of high-heeled shoes on the stone floor beneath us.
“Sir?” Genoveve asked. “Your two o’clock meeting has arrived.”
Genoveve was like an angel with a halo of blonde hair. She was earnest and sweet in a way that reminded me of Sebastian when he was younger, before he had hardened and grown cold over time.
“Thank you, Genoveve,” Sebastian said. “I will be down very shortly.”
Sebastian finally stood up, brushing his hands down the sides of his suit jacket. Genoveve left the room to wait in the hallway outside.
“Dinner will start at six,” Sebastian told me. “Until then, Genoveve will take you to the guest quarters. I trust you’ll be comfortable there.”
“Haven’t been comfortable since I stepped foot in here,” I said.
His gaze was still hard, but I swore I saw a hint of hurt flash through his eyes.
“But… yes,” I added. “I’ll be fine until dinner.”
He gave me a nod before turning to walk off toward the door. It was strange watching Sebastian walk away knowing that I’d get to see him again in four hours. Knowing that for right now, I existed in the same building as him, for the first time in so many years.
I was still white-hot with rage at him. But my heart didn’t care.
In my stupid heart, he was still my Sebastian. The kid next door who was different from everyone else. Pure but troubled, and so, so full of love beneath his ocean of anxiety.
I wondered if any scrap of that Sebastian remained.
He paused before he left, cocking his head to one side and turning back to look at me.
“I missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life,” he said softly.
For a moment, all of the pretense was gone from his face. He was being real.
This wasn’t the cold prince. This was my best friend.
“I…” I started to speak, but had no idea what to say. I had no clue how to sum up so many years of emotion into a reply.
“I am sorry,” he said. “In the strongest way any person could be sorry. And I know it will never be enough. But you cannot dare tell me that I didn’t miss you. Or that I didn’t think of you every single day since that night. Most of the time you were the only thing I thought of, Henry.”
His fingers fumbled, just a little, as he clasped the button on the front of his jacket.
He was gone in another moment, whisking himself off like royalty that had places to be. Genoveve’s face appeared in the doorway, like a ray of sunshine in this grey ice storm of a castle.
“Sir, I can take you to the guests’ quarters right away,” she said with a genuine smile. “I think you’ll love it.”
“It’s Henry,” I said.
“Sorry?”
“Call me Henry. I don’t do well with all the sir stuff,” I said. I squirmed a little in my flannel, which suddenly didn’t feel thick enough to keep out the cold.
“Right then,” she said. “Henry. I apologize.”
“No, I apologize,” I said, letting out a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have caused the scene I did. Back in the car.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… telling Sebastian off. Telling him fuck you in front of you all. You didn’t need to see that.”
She waved a hand. “Sebastian said you were old friends. It happens, sometimes. Don’t worry about it, sir. Henry, I mean.”
“Sebastian never used to swear at all, you know,” I told her. “He was a very sweet kid.”
She smiled. “It’s so nice to meet a friend of his. You’re the first man Sebastian’s ever brought back to the castle.”
My eyebrows lifted. “That can’t be true.”
She nodded quickly. “Oh, he never brings men around. Only women. We’re very glad to have you here.”
4
Sebastian
The crystal glass was heavy in my hand as I watched Henry across the table. I tossed back the rest of my scotch, the liquor pleasantly burning at the back of my tongue. Sarah, one of the kitchen staff members, was quick to appear at my side, taking my glass to refill it at the bar.
“Little more this time,” I said quietly, trying to speak slowly. It never looked good when I started slurring my words this early in the evening. “Thank you, Sarah.”
My words were inaudible over the noise filling the rest of the table. I hadn’t seen the dining room this lively in years. The table felt warm under the dim glow of the chandeliers above us, and the staff had lit more candles than usual on the table and the surrounding walls.