A Perfect World

Chapter 16

FENRYS POV

Fenrys' wine tasted sour in his mouth. He was off-mission in one of the finer establishments in Varese, drink in one hand, meat pie in the other. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to enjoy it. 

Fifty percent of the issue was that alcohol was shockingly less fun than hanging out with the Terrasen gang, though not by a whole lot. The other fifty percent had to do with Rowan being a total sourpuss. 

Could he sympathize with Rowan? Of course. He was a Prince of Doranelle with a stick up his ass, sworn to put his realm's needs first. His mate, being the Heir of Terrasen, would have also sworn something similar. World-class mayhem would be the direct result of a relationship between them—quite literally; this type of situation could very easily trigger a war, especially if the wrong people got a sniff of what was up. Speaking of "up"—that stick up Rowan's ass? His mate could definitely burn that if she wanted to. With her lack of control on her fire magic, she'd probably burn up his entire anus. 

Wine spewed out of his mouth as he pictured that visual, roaring with laughter. Then he looked over to his friend, sitting and staring into space, drink untouched. The joke shrivelled up on Fenrys' tongue. 

"Earth to Rowan?" he tested. 

No response. 

"Man, I'm trying not to be too cavalier about what you're going through right now, but you're also killing my whole vibe and it really, really sucks ass."

He got an eye-roll for that one. 

"Movement!" Fenrys yelped triumphantly. "It was only eyeball movement but I'll take it." He took a swig of wine. "You know," he continued, "I actually might prefer this version of you that lets me talk over you all I want without you telling me to—"

"Shut up, Fenrys," Rowan finished for him. Except it was less of helping him finish the sentence and more of actually telling him to shut up. 

That's more like it, Fenrys thought, feeling oddly reassured. 

"So tell me about her," Fenrys said. 

"You know her as well as I do," Rowan replied. 

"Maybe. But if you're gonna sulk about it, at least sulk out loud. I can't stand the mopey silence." 

"You can't stand silence? Who would have thought?" Rowan drawled. 

"Ha. Ha," Fenrys replied dryly. He waved his glass at his friend, "Proceed." 

Rowan scratched his head in frustration, looking up as if the gods would send him some answers, or better yet—a therapist. 

"It's just so complicated. Who she is. Who I am. Those are huge factors that I need to consider before I can decide how to move forward. Are my feelings for her just going to be shaped by the bond? Can I accept that? And what the hell is actually going on in Terrasen? Nothing about this mission sits well with me. Even her. Especially her." 

Fenrys nodded, taking a moment to gather his thought. 

"Rowan, let me lay it out for you. I am what people might refer to as a... Messy King ™. You're not built that way. Wait..." Fenrys pursed his lips, considering. "Actually, now that I think about it you do have a penchant for uncovering drama—case in point, I guess—but you're not like me. You don't thrive on chaos... You just somewhat enjoy it from time to time—

Aha!" Fenrys suddenly exclaimed, half jumping out of his seat. "Gods, this is actually so fucking perfect. You thrive on order, Whitethorn. It's one of the things I don't particularly like about you, if I'm being honest." 

Rowan deadpanned.

"However," Fenrys continued, "Deep down, you actually love a little chaos. Aelin, on the outside, is all perfect princess. A representation of order. But on the inside she's a chaotic little drama queen. It's just who she is. She can't even help herself. Gods, man, she is actually perfect for you. Your mate. It makes total sense." 

Fenrys mimed his head exploding before flagging down the nearest waiter. 

"More wine! My friend here has found the one. We've gotta celebrate!"

Rowan's forehead slammed into the table. He groaned, deeply. 

AELIN POV

When Lorcan had demanded that Aelin train with him, she was fully expecting that he show her how to kick some serious ass. Instead, he just made Aedion teach her how to swim. 

"This blows," she said to Lysandra, whose dorsal fin she was using to stay afloat. Lysandra sprayed her from her blowhole. "Ha.Ha." 

"You can't seriously be tired already!" Aedion bellowed from the deck. 

Aelin rolled her eyes before grudgingly resuming her laps.

She couldn't wait to see land again. 

Yet, Aelin found that she was actually glad for the distraction. Her mind had been mostly preoccupied with Ansel's plan. Deep down she had a feeling that she had done something terribly, terribly wrong.

ROWAN POV

Hours later, Rowan was finally able to drag a plastered Fenrys out of the pub. Fenrys was leaning on him, drawling on about every mated couple they knew. 

Though he was being generally annoying, Fenrys had made a fair point by bringing up his cousin Edna and his mate. His cousins were typically irksome and loved nothing better than meddling in his personal affairs. In fact, it was one of his cousins who had been responsible for his courting of Remelle. 

Fuck. Remelle.

Rowan had completely forgotten about her. Technically, they were still courting. It was more of a political move than anything else, but still... 

He definitely needed to confide in someone until he could get his head screwed back on the right way. Edna was the only one of his cousins who was mated. He would understand.

"Dude," Fenrys said suddenly, "I know that I'm the one that's drunk, but I'm fifty percent sure that we're going the wrong way."

"No," he said, "We're definitely going the right way, but there is definitely something odd going on. There's way too many people out for this area, not to mention this late at night. On your guard, Boyo." 

With that, Fenrys straightened up, sobriety returning to him at will it seemed—though just barely. 

There was too much chatter all around them. It was difficult for them to pick up on individual conversations in order to figure out what was going on. 

A group of women were huddled together on the edge of a public fountain, sequestered from everyone else. Rowan and Fenrys edged closer, aiming to casually walk past them as they eavesdropped on their conversation. 

"If that's true, then Prince Aedion will be next in line, won't he?" one woman said. Rowan stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to approach the women. Fenrys grabbed his elbow to hold him back but Rowan shrugged him off. The women's conversation died off as he marched towards them. 

"Excuse me," Rowan said, "Could you possibly tell me what's going on? Is there any urgent news that we should be aware of?"

One of the women pointed behind him, towards the Ashryver castle that loomed in the distance. Though it was far away, Rowan could still clearly make it out, including its main flagpole. The blue and gold fabric was hung at half-mast—the position of mourning. 

"Who?" Rowan asked, insides clenched in fear.

"They say it was Princess Aelin." 

** To those of you who made it this far, thank you so much! 

I'm pretty busy with college starting back up, which is why I wasn't able to update last Monday. I am really hoping to get another chapter out by this Monday as well, but we'll have to see how it goes. I'm still trying to get adjusted to my new schedule (new classes, new job etc.) Wish me luck! Fingers crossed that I can do it.**