All The Things We Didn't Say

Chapter 1

My fingers drum the armrest of my leather chair as I study the maps spread out in front of me on the maple table. Two new kingdoms are rising to disturbing power too close to my territory. That needs to be handled before I am threatened. Lunara and Elysira need to be shown their place before capturing Mireth crosses their mind. It took me two decades to build my rule. I am not going to let it all go down the drain because of some moths of countries.

A knock on my office door makes me lift my eyes. A frown tugs at the edges of my lips. I ordered everyone to leave me alone for a few hours. Whoever this is better have a damn good reason to ignore my orders.

"Come in." I call out, keeping my voice calm and composed.

The door opens, and a gust of cold wind rushes inside, fanning my face and blowing some of my hair into my eyes.

I push them back impatiently. There's a reason I ask everyone to keep the windows closed, at least in winter. The servants have an explanation to give.

My scowl vanishes as I see Jay stride in with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. I suppress a fond smile that threatens to creep in and fix him with a stern look that I know isn't very convincing.

"I believe," I say, "that I requested privacy for a few hours, Gaston."

He shrugs and sits in the chair across from me. "Didn't think you would miss me, but couldn't risk it."

I frown with disapproval, not needing to say what I think about that. He already knows.

He raises a brow. "Do you want me to leave, Leon?"

I grit my teeth.

Damn it.

I can't say no now. Not after noting that small trace of pain in his voice. He can act tough all he wants, but his mask is nothing but a thin sheet of transparent paper to me. I see everything he hides from everyone else.

"Stay." I hiss, my voice bitter. He always does this- slipping past my defenses like it's nothing. I hated him for it once. I haven't had the strength to hate him for years.

His eyes light up with a grin at the small victory over me.

My heart stutters.

It's so easy to make him smile, and God do I love doing it. I'd willingly lose everything to him, just to have him look at me like that again.

I force that thought from my head as soon as it comes.

We're partners.

That's all we are.

If I run after something that I can't have, then I'll lose even what I do have. I can't risk that. I'd take something over nothing any day. Hell, I'd take anything he throws my way- whatever stale breadcrumbs he sees me fit for, I'll gladly accept.

Jay raises his brows, smiling mischievously- but God, that smile...

I blink once, pulling myself out of those thoughts.

No, I am not going there.

My voice comes out harsher than I intended. "If you came here just to stare in silence, Gaston, then I would suggest you do not waste both of our time."

"You were staring, Leon." Jay points out, making my cheeks flush. And the realization that I actually blushed just deepens the heat of my cheeks.

I glare at him wordlessly.

He laughs, and my heart melts at the sound.

Damn him.

Damn him and his smiles.

As if he read my mind, his smile falters and his eyes harden, as if the liquid chocolate of his eyes froze and hardened into rocks.

"There was another rebellion today." He informs me.

My frown deepens. "Another one?" This is the third rebellion of the month. That's not a good sign at all.

He nods, and his dark hair falls into his eyes. He pushes it back reflexively.

"Did the police suppress it yet?" I ask absentmindedly, my gaze and thoughts lingering on his hair, and how it's still falling into his eyes.

He pushes the unruly locks back again. "They did."

I lean back in my chair, some of the earlier tension leaving my muscles as I force my eyes from Jay's features to the maps.

Focus, Leon.

"The people," he continues, "are very upset with you, Leon. They are demanding more rights... and perhaps a proper government rather than a dictator."

I raise a brow.

"They want rights." He presses. "Actual rights, like deciding who will rule them."

I push out of my chair and turn my back to him to stare out the window behind my desk. I can never concentrate on the matter at hand if his face is right in front of me.

"What they want doesn't matter." I say, staring out at the city spreading out in front of me, meeting with the sky at the horizon like a lover. "No ruler who molded himself on he people's whims ever did anything good."

"We have to do something." I can hear the frustration in his voice. "These rebellions never end well. I would know."

Of course he would. "Show them fear. Arrest the leaders of the rebellion. Hang a few. Banish the others."

He doesn't reply for a long moment, so I turn to stare at him with raised eyebrows. "Is there a problem, Gaston?"

He sighs. "No. No problem at all."

If only he knew what a terrible liar he is. I know he isn't a fan of my ways. But the only way I can hold the pieces of my breaking kingdom together is by force. And I intend to do just that.

"One more thing." He says, looking up.

I frown. "What else?"

He takes in a deep breath then blows it out. "The king of Lunara is here."

"Who the hell let him in?" I demand, spinning on him. The arrival of the king Lunara, the kingdom gaining more territory by the day by wars, cannot be good news.

He raises both his hands defensively. "Calm down, mate. He's here for a peace proposal."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Peace? With Lunara? We have been enemies forever, Gaston. We won't be at peace. If anything, all it will be is a war fought with an ally. The Lunarians won't change."

"From what I have heard," he says nonchalantly, picking up a pen and spinning it between his fingers, "the truce includes marriage with the princess of Lunara."

I snort. "A marital truce?"

He shrugs, staring at the pen. "I have heard she is very beautiful."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Which one?" As far as I know, Lunara has two princesses.

He leans his head to the side, still not meeting my eyes as he thinks. "Princess Isabella." He says at last.

I grunt. Isabella, then. I have heard of her. I had even seen her once- at a ball some years ago. With her long brown hair and dark eyes, her looks aren't remarkable. And according to the rumors, her long mouth has prevented her from getting any suitors. No wonder her father brought her here.

"I ain't marrying her." I say. I won't marry, period.

He is silent for a while as he keeps spinning that pen. His lips part, as if he might say something, but then he closes then again. With a sigh, he looks up. His fingers pause and the pen clatters to the table. His eyes are shadowed with sorrow as he looks at me.

"Come." He says. "Let's not keep him waiting."