Chapter 200
Chapter 200
"Why am I feeling it?" Blue asked Neireda as they sat on the shore, their legs submerged in the water.
Neireda sighed quietly, her hands playing with the water as she stared at the evening sky.
"I don't know," she answered.
Blue frowned, "What do you mean you don't know?" He questioned helplessly.
"Am I the one to know? How do I stop feeling it?" He asked again, eager for help.
Neired sighed and turned to Blue.
"I don't know, Blue," She started, looking into his eyes, "It's never happened before." He removed her hand from the water and held his hand.
"Maybe, you two didn't believe the ritual. You might have confirmed with just words, but your souls were never willing to separate. They simply went silent to let you bother heal, and now that you're together again, they are ready to unite with their other half –"
"Never," Blue snapped, standing from the ground, his blue eyes narrowing at Neireda.
"I know you did this. This is your magic. You're playing with our feelings hmjuat because you have the powers to do so, and I'm telling you, that is very unfair, you're not considerate at all, and I really thought you were a friend, but your loyalty is to your stupid Prince," Blue accused, biting his lip angrily.
Neireda smiled genuinely, looking up at Blue's face, "I'm sorry, Blue. But you're wrong. I would never tamper with fate. The matebond is the only thing I have no power over. If you still feel your matebond, then, it means the gods want you and Maren together forever. Don't fight it, or you will really get hurt this time... worse than the last time. No one defies the gods," she explained calmly and stood from the sand, taking his hand.
"Maybe it's time you forgave Maren. He loves you endlessly and he's born s she'll from the moment you turned your back on him –"
"Enough, Neireda," His voice was soft as he slowly stepped away from Neireda.
"I came back here for Nixxon and his baby. I've let myself get swayed by Maren's presence again and I have the power to stop it." Blue said, taking a deep breath.
"From now on, I will ignore Maren's existence, matebond or not. I will choose my own destiny, not some fucking gods," He gave Neireda a determined look and walked away.
Neireda stared at Blue as he left, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"You can try, Blue. No one runs from their fate, especially not you," She murmured to herself as she walked toward the opposite direction, smirking.
___
Blue stood in Nixxon's room, holding the baby in his arms as he stared out the glass wall.
"I need to put her down, Blue," Nixxon said, placing a gentle hand on Blue's shoulder.
"Ges not asking this time," Vernon added darkly behind them.
Blue sighed.
He'd been holding the sleeping price crash for a very long time, channelling his worry into a feeling of the baby's soft skin.
"But, she's sleeping so peacefully," he said to Nixxon, looking at the baby's face.
Nixxon sighed, taking the baby from Blue's arm.
"That's what you said an hour ago. You know the baby can't shield you forever, you have to go and face your problems, Blue. Or they'll never go away." Nixxon gently lay the baby on the bed, facing Blue once more.
"Maren did really badly in the past. But, if you didn't love him anymore, you wouldn't be hiding from him. So," he placed a hand on Blue's shoulder, pushing him toward the door, "Go out there and listen to your heart. No one else, just your heart," Nixxon opened the door and gently pushed Blue pit of the room.
"Nixxon –"
"I'm the wrong person you need to speak to. Go to him, Blue. Stop fighting it. Goodnight," Nixxon smiled and closed the door, leaving Blue standing there, feeling confused and angry at himself.
Talk to Maren? Fine!
He'd talk.to Maren, alright, and he'll acknowledge the stupid bond, but he was going to set a clear boundary. The bond meant nothing, and he was going to prove it by maintaining his distance no matter how forcefully the pull got.
He climbed down the stairs and headed to his room.
The moment he walked in, his eyes landed on his freshly made bed and a table of food by the side of the bed.
Maren was nowhere to be found. Blue scanned the room with his eyes, looking for the culprit. The large bed was freshly made, sheets turned down invitingly, and beside it stood a small, elegant table—not the usual bulky furniture, but a delicate, glass-topped piece. On it, a silver cloche rested, surrounded by a few carefully arranged dishes.
He frowned, slowly walking toward the bed.
His stomach growled as he smelled the mouth-watering aroma of the food: a rich, savoury scent of herbs and saffron, mingled with the fresh, clean smell of the ocean. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until the smells hit him.
He was about to lift the silver cloche when he noticed a small, folded piece of parchment lying next to the plate. He picked it up; it was Maren's familiar, elegant script, simple and direct:
Blue—
I know you need to eat. This is not a trick. This is not a demand. It is simply an apology, plated. It acknowledges your worth and my failure to recognise it.
Armani will serve you fresh plates if you choose to eat. If you don't, I will understand. I won't be here. Your privacy is paramount.
Maren.
Blue's resolve, already worn thin by the conversation with Neireda and Nixxon, crumbled slightly under the weight of Maren's quiet deference. The note was humble, respecting every boundary Blue had set.
He placed the note down and slowly lifted the cloche.
Underneath, the meal was revealed: a delicate portion of beautifully pan-seared halibut resting on a creamy bed of saffron risotto, flanked by bright green asparagus. A small, separate bowl held the clear seaweed consommé.
Blue stared. He recognised the ingredients as high-quality human food, yet prepared with the kind of meticulous care that only royalty commanded. The saffron was a rich, vibrant yellow—the colour of Maren's eyes. It was both beautiful and agonizingly symbolic.
He sighed, pushing the feelings down. He was starving, and this was just food. It was an expensive, dramatic peace offering, but it was just food.
He sat on the edge of the bed and reluctantly picked up the spoon for the consommé. The warm, clear broth was pure, washing away the tension in his throat. He then moved to the risotto, savouring the rich, complicated taste of the saffron.
As he ate, he felt a strange, detached sense of wellness settle over him. It wasn't just the physical nourishment; it was the psychological relief of being cared for, gently and without expectation. Maren had followed his rules. Maren had given him space. Maren had only offered sustenance and silence.
A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. Blue didn't look up, knowing it was Armani coming to check on the plates.
"Come in, Armani," Blue said, his mouth full of delicious halibut.
The door opened, and Maren walked in. He was carrying a small, silver tray with a single, dark chocolate tart and a separate coffee cup.
"Armani is busy with the baby," Maren said quietly, his green eyes focused only on the tray in his hands. He walked to the bedside table and gently replaced Blue's empty consommé bowl with the decadent dessert.
Maren did not look at Blue's face, only at the food and the table.
"The halibut was excellent," Blue admitted grudgingly, unable to keep the truth in.
"Thank you," Maren replied, his voice barely audible, his hand trembling slightly as he set the tart down.
Blue picked up the dessert fork, but paused. He could feel the familiar, dizzying pull of the mate-bond, now amplified by the shared silence and the small, intimate setting.
"You said you wouldn't come back," Blue challenged, his voice quiet.
Maren slowly stood back from the table, tucking his hands into his pockets, still avoiding Blue's eyes.
"I said I wouldn't speak unless you did," Maren corrected softly. "You spoke. You thanked me."
He paused, then added, his voice filled with unbearable weariness, "And I'm not doing this to trick you, Blue. I'm doing this because when I walked in and saw you in the corner of my eye this morning, I realised I hadn't slept for three months. I cannot survive if you are starving. I cannot survive if you are suffering. My body won't let me. This isn't courtship; it's a desperate attempt at co-existence."
He finally looked at Blue, his eyes raw and pleading.
"I need you alive, Blue. And I need you whole. Even if I can only watch from the periphery."
Blue stared into the dark chocolate tart, the bitterness and the salt in the dessert suddenly tasting overwhelmingly meaningful. He wanted to scream at Maren, to tell him to leave, but the honesty in his eyes, the depth of his suffering, was a weight too heavy to ignore.
"You're making this impossible," Blue whispered, fighting back the sting of fresh tears.
"I am," Maren agreed, his voice rough. "Because you made it impossible for me to survive without you."
Maren turned, preparing to leave.
"The tart," Blue said, stopping him. "What does the tart mean?"
Maren paused at the door, his back to Blue. "It means I'm sorry for everything. The dark chocolate is the bitterness of my shame. The salt is the reminder of your tears. And the raspberries..." He took a shaky breath. "...the raspberries are the stubborn life force that remains."
He opened the door. "Goodnight, Blue. Sleep well."
Blue didn't respond. He sat on the bed, staring at the tart. He knew Maren was right. This was not a game; this was two souls, forcefully severed, struggling for equilibrium. He was fighting his destiny, and his destiny had just served him a perfect, heartbreaking dessert.
He picked up the fork, the first taste of the dark, rich chocolate overwhelming his senses. He would eat the bitterness, but he would not surrender.