When he spoke, it was loud enough for everyone around them to hear his words without mistaking them. “You’ll have to forgive my fiancée, Sa. We were planning to tell you and ?dara the good news later, after the party, but Alura’s dress didn’t make it to the palace from the delivery service I ordered for her … she was late getting in from her patrol and didn’t have time to pick up another change of clothes, and you know how pregnancy hormones play havoc with a woman’s sensibilities. Rather than show her the proper sympathy for her predicament, leave it to me to always say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I’m told I inherited that gene from you, Alvaldr.”
The last bit caused a round of laughter to echo in the room from their guests.
And it served to do just what Bastien had intended. It set his father back on his heels as he digested those words with the same expression Bastien was sure had been on his own face a few minutes ago.
“Pardon?”
Bastien inclined his head to his father. “May I present my fiancée and the future ?dara of my child, Lieutenant Aurora Wyldestarrin, or Alura, as her family and friends call her.”
His father came as close to stuttering as Bastien had ever seen him. “Wyldestarrin?”
Bastien didn’t miss the shock underlying his father’s question. And before he could answer, the rumors took off through the room like wildfire, echoing and slapping him even harder than Alura had.
“Did I hear that correctly? He traded one zusa for another?”
“She doesn’t look like the other one. What was that pleb’s name, again? Flame or something silly like that?”
“Well, I’m not surprised. It was just a matter of time before he knocked up another pleb. Who didn’t see that coming?”
“No wonder she broke it off with him. Can you imagine finding your zusa in bed with your boyfriend? I’d have shot them both!”
Bastien ground his teeth as pain tore through him over their cruelty. More than that, he resented them speculating about his life and motives when they knew nothing about the details of the event.
Knew nothing about him, personally.
Sorry, worthless bastards and their biting tongues they thought so much of. But that was the problem in life—everyone wanted to be a know-it-all expert, and act like they had all the facts and answers when they knew absolutely nothing whatsoever about the matter at hand. Just a handful of unrelated details they put together from half truths and outright lies, using their own petty minds and base thoughts to fill in the gaps. The accusations they made against him spoke more about them than it did him. Because in the end, those false assumptions and allegations came from inside their own corrupt souls that they exposed to the light by their words and deeds. They unknowingly accused him of what they’d do and not of what he’d actually done.
“The careless mouth oft betrays the truth of the heart.” His paternal grandfather’s words rang in his ears. The old man had been right. “Great minds talk about philosophy and ideas. Small minds talk about people.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
Little did the jikkas know they were quickly telling him which side of that equation they fell on. And it wasn’t good for them. For the one thing about a Cabarro, they never forgot a slight of any kind. Their unofficial family motto was that winning wasn’t everything. Rubbing it in the face of your enemy was also important.
And the only ones worse about that than the Cabarros were the Triosans—his mother’s family. Which meant he had a double dose of it hard-wired into his DNA.
As if she sensed the turmoil inside him, his mother appeared at his back and placed a gentle hand to his shoulder. “Congratulations to you both.” She kissed his cheek. “Alura? If you’d like to follow me, I’ll have my secretary attend your needs so that you won’t feel out of place.”
The party slowly resumed, but Bastien’s mood was ruined. As was his life.
Especially when Lil returned to his side and shook her head. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for five minutes, could you, blyt theren?”
No one could make the affectionate Kirovarian term for little brother sound more patronizing than his sister.
Wanting to punch her like he’d done when he was five and she’d stolen all his toys to show him who was the bigger and stronger sibling, Bastien excused himself. He’d deal with Lillian’s insanity later. Right now he needed to resume his discussion with Alura and figure out what had happened to cause this.
Well, he knew the mechanics. Sort of. But that night they’d spent together was still really fuzzy in his head. Honestly, he barely recalled anything after he’d left Quin in the landing bay and had gone straightaway to get loaded. Upset over his encounter with Ember, he’d been so effing drunk that he could barely stand when Alura had shown up unexpectedly at the bar where he’d plowed through so much Tondarion Fire, it was a wonder he still had functioning kidneys.
Damn it!
Not that he blamed the alcohol. He was the moron who’d gone out with Alura before that. But Bastien hadn’t considered their dinner anything more than one revenge meal to stab at Ember.
It’s what I deserve for being a bastard.
Clearly, as Lil had said, this was his fault. He owned every bit of it. He was the one who’d accepted Alura’s dinner invitation.
The one who’d gone drinking alone and been so irresponsible that the last thing he remembered was blacking out in the bar, then waking up naked in Alura’s bed.