Chapter Twenty-One: Handling It | Part 4
After a few fractions, Thirtyx felt an itch in his mind. Rhea stared at her pen, balancing it between her index fingers as though she felt a kinship with its precarious position. Thirtyx… who am I if I can’t handle it?
Thirtyx tapped his own pen against the table as he composed a response. Rhea Grimmary— daughter of King Grimmary and two hells of a future queen.
How can I rule Lamiakk if I can’t handle some schoolwork and a few diplomatic letters? I’m letting everyone down. I’m letting Grimm down. He needs to know I can do this in case… in case…
If he didn’t know you could do this, don’t you think he’d be making other plans?
Rhea dropped her pen and put her face in her hands. Her fingers twisted around tendrils of hair, and as she pulled, the pain leaked through their connection, carried on waves of frustration and shame. If he’s not making other plans, he’s a twice-damned idiot. He chose two heirs so we could split the burden, and I can’t even do my half of the job. She tilted her head up and stared desperately at Thirtyx through her fingers. If Grimm, in all his infinite power, can’t keep the throne, I’ll lose it the second I’m crowned!
Thirtyx steepled his fingers and fixed her with a firm but compassionate look. King Grimmary is many things, but he’s not a twice-damned idiot, he isn’t infinitely powerful, and he isn’t holding that throne by himself. Have you forgotten his entire palace full of advisers? You’ll have that too, someday. But in the meantime, you do have an adviser. You just need to use him more often.
Rhea let her hands fall from her face, but her desperation remained. When Benn and I use you as an adviser, you get tortured.
That hasn’t stopped me from offering, has it?
I haven’t been sleeping much.
I kind of figured. But I meant what I said earlier. I can pull references for you. You can use my notes from our shared classes. You don’t have to do this alone.
Rhea’s tiny nod brought Thirtyx disproportionate relief. She heaved a sigh that she must have dredged from her toes, then she rolled her neck back and forth. I still don’t want to ruin your happiness about the whole Seerla thing. Which means I don’t want you constantly thinking about how the world is conspiring against Veriths.
Awfully bold of you to assume I’m not constantly thinking about both.
She cracked a small smile. I’d like it if you thought about Seerla—showed me the joy she brings you. I need something uplifting. Her eyes narrowed. But nothing gross, okay?
Thirtyx bit back a snort as he thinned his mental boundaries. There were plenty of not-gross things he could think about Seerla. Like how she’d let him crash in her room after the first attack on Grimmary. The pride on her face when he announced he was Comping for law. The way she’d come back for him that night on the riverbank. The fierce, passionate pep talk that followed.
Perhaps he knew how to support Rhea because Seerla had set a fantastic example. How could he possibly deserve her? How could he deserve Rhea and Benn, for that matter? Even with everything crumbling around him, he couldn’t help but feel unspeakably lucky.
Rhea breathed a contented sigh. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”
She answered with a wry grin. “And whenever I feel overwhelmed, I’ll think of Benn halfway to Palloc, lecturing Azirenne on the benefits of antidiscrimination laws.”
“Good call. That’s enough to give anyone strength.”
Calley Jones 