Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 16

I was back in the palace in a matter of forty-eight hours. This time, I had a sprawling jet to myself, a constant supply of exclusive alcohol – thought I certainly didn't have the stomach for any of it – and far too much time to think. I wished I could have admired the jet or the drive to the palace. I should have reveled in those leather seats or plastered my face against a window to admire all of the snow and the Christmas magic that seemed to have fallen over this little country.

I cared for none of it. And when I entered the palace, I decided that I actually hated it, loathed it really. It was a slap in the face. It was all a stark reminder that my mother was gone and though my life had abruptly halted, the rest of the world moved on. Everyone else was having a grand old time while my life had been jerked out from under me.

I waited in the foyer with a huff, rolling my eyes at extravagant garlands that were laced through banisters and around marble pillars. Mistletoe hung from every nook and cranny and lights twinkled softly. It might have been tasteful to some, but it made me want to vomit right now.

"Oh London," Zara sighed, clicking into frame with her perfect hair and polished outfit. She looked just as put together as she had on her wedding day.

"Hey," I grumbled.

"Come, come, let's get you set up in your room. You must be exhausted from your travels but I am so happy that you could be here."

I was whisked away in a matter of seconds, a lovely staff member coming to help me with my bags as I was taken to the same room as before. Though, it hardly looked the like the same room. Judging for the scent in the air, the tree in the corner was very real and quite fresh. There was a new throw blanket, seasonal pillows, and even two wreaths on the walls.

"Sorry if it's a bit much, I love Christmas," the queen murmured. "And now that I get to spoil Dallas, it's all the more exciting."

"I'm half expecting Santa Claus to show up." It was supposed to be said with humor and kindness, but it came out dry and bitter.

"London." Christ, of course Jasper would show up now. He probably descended from his throne just to scold me, but when I turned away from his wife to face him, I didn't see anger or the glint of warning in his eye as I often did when I overstepped.

"Jasper," I greeted while cocking my head. "Or do I address you as something else now that you have taken a position beside your wife?"

"You have lost weight," he stated, ignoring me entirely. "And I don't think I've ever seen you with dry skin in my entire life."

Whatever little decency I had in me faded. My teeth clenched together. "Ah, yes thank you. Is that how you greet all the women in your life?" I snapped.

Jasper gestured to the staff member who had carried in my bags. The man immediately made himself scarce and shut the door behind him. It was just me, teetering on the edge of a verbal assault, Jasper, and the queen.

"Sit," Jasper ordered, pointing to an arm chair tucked by the fire place. I didn't even flinch. "London, I'm not here to argue with you. I just want to have a conversation with you. Have a seat please."

Zara's gentle, but frigid hands touched my arms. With the faintest of touches, she steered me to the chair and sat me down. While I glared at Jasper, she began pouring tea into three dainty cups.

"It's a good thing my wife has a sixth sense. She told me she knew something was wrong and she was right."

"I'm fine," I bit back.

Jasper sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the nearest wall. "I'm glad she called when she did because you are certainly not fine."

"You don't know anything!"