I still have no updates for you (sadly), so please accept this VERY rough draft of a future chapter I've been working on āØāØāØ
āYou seem to have thought a lot about my marriage,ā she remarks. āAny suggestions?ā
Still, he doesnāt look up from the paperwork scattered across his desk. āSeveral,ā Baltor says. āThe Prince of Dolona, for example. Heās of noble birth, born to a bloodline spanning generations. And if my reports are correct, he has acquired an impressive military background since joining the war effort.āĀ
He pauses, writing something down, and Bloom waits, expecting him to continue.Ā
But he doesnāt. After placing his pen back down, Baltor simply continues his work in silence, as if he hadnāt been mid-conversation moments ago. As if she wasnāt even in the room.Ā
āThatās it?ā she asks. āI thought you knew of several matches for me?ā
āI do,ā he finally replies, deadpan. āHowever, like the viper you are, youāve viciously spurned all except the Prince of Dolona; therefore, itās superfluous to discuss them.ā
Her annoyance gets the best of her, and the words burst out of her mouth. āAnd you?ā
The sound of shuffling papers is snuffed out. Everything from the breath in her lungs to the distant cry of seagulls circling the port have fallen silent.Ā
And Baltor.Ā
Baltor is so still Bloom convinces herself the entire planet has screeched to a halt.Ā
She waits. She isnāt sure what for, but the tension in his shoulders warns her to be prepared for anything.Ā
āWhat of me?ā
His voice is hard, but surprisingly calm. However, it does little to ease her nerves. Bloom swallows, fighting to calm her pounding heart. āYou donāt consider yourself a suitable match?ā
He raises an eyebrow. āI possess wealth, power, and beauty,ā Baltor says. āIām a suitable match for anyone and an overqualified match for most.ā
His ego truly knows no bounds. āThatās not what Iām asking.ā
āThen what are you asking?ā
Her mouth snaps shut. Itās the last thing she wants to do, but itās everything she needs to know. āI havenāt spurned you ... yet, at least, I donāt think,ā she stammers. āDo you not think of yourself as a suitable match for me?ā
Hours drag by in mere seconds. Briefly, she wonders if itās on purpose. Maybe heās using magic to alter the environment just so he can watch her stew in her indignity. It wouldnāt be the first time heās used reticence to torture her. With how blatantly heād expressed his enjoyment in her suffering, she knows heās not above it.Ā
Then, slowly, he looks up at her.Ā
Regret punches her in the gut.
An absolutely unbearable smirk stretches across his face. āBloom,ā he drawls. āAre you asking me to court you?ā
