Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
I sit down and pour the tea. Muriel takes a sip, and says, “It’s best not to talk about the old days. You and Cassian look forward. Only forward, and you’ll be all right. You’ll be safe from the ghosts.”
When Muriel goes upstairs to rest, I head out into the yard to where Cassian’s unloading his truck. He’s been to the horse supply store in town to get the various hoof waxes, saddle oils, brushes and blankets we need for all the new horses we’re stabling. I help him carry it all into the storeroom and then brush my hands on the seat of my jeans.
“Muriel’s a funny one,” I say, not sure how much I want to tell Cassian, because this sort of conversation upsets him.
“Oh?”
I purse my lips, watching my fiancé carefully. “She started talking about the past, and then she stopped herself. It sounds like she’s keeping some sort of secret about things that happened years ago with Gunvald and Aimee.”
“A secret? I don’t know about any secret.”
“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? That’s how secrets work.”
Cassian rubs the back of his neck, his brows drawn tightly together. “She’s just old. If it was anything important, she would have told me. I know all I need to know about Lungren.”
He leads me back out to the truck. “I got something else in town. It’s kind of a big deal, but I’m going to need your help with it.”
The truck looked empty to me, but I follow him anyway.
“I could have sworn…Oh, there it is.” He clasps me by the waist and lifts me, so I’m sitting on the back of the truck. He digs in his shirt pocket and takes out a ring. It’s a white gold band with a canary yellow diamond; small, but very eye-catching.
I gasp and cover my mouth. I’d forgotten about an engagement ring. He takes my left hand from my face and slips the ring over my third finger. The diamond sparkles in the late afternoon light.
“It was my mother’s. It’s not her wedding ring,” he says quickly. “She never had one of those. It wouldn’t have been lucky to give it to you anyway, because, you know.” He grimaces. “Sorry, I’m doing this all wrong. It was her necklace, but I’ve had it turned into a ring for you.”
I capture his face with my hands. “Cassian. It’s beautiful. Knowing that it was your mother’s means so much to me.”
He takes a deep breath, and some of the anxiety leaves his muscles. “Muriel said Aimee was wearing the necklace when she met my father, so she thinks it was a Bellerose family heirloom. I can’t really know for sure, but it was hers. Now it’s yours.”
I smile at him through my blurred eyes. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Cassian gazes up at me. “I’m not usually this sentimental. I thought I was breaking you in, but you’re the one who’s been changing me. Softening me up like an old piece of leather until I’m buttery smooth to your touch.”
I kiss him, the last of the evening rays of sun turning his golden hair to fire.
“Marry me?” he asks simply, his hands encircling my waist.
“I will. I love you, Cassian.” No matter how many times he asks me, the answer will always be yes, yes, and yes again, because my happiness lives in his heart, and this is the place where I found it.
Epilogue
Jakob
The palace at night is a breathtaking sight. Lights burn in every corridor and the chatter of voices fill the air. The plasterwork gleams gold on the high ceilings as I make my way from my office around to the ballroom. For more than two decades, I saw the palace standing empty and decaying, despised and ignored by Varga. A decrepit monument to his victory over the old King and Queen.
Now, it’s my second home. I spend as much time here, in the state rooms and the administrative offices, as I do at my apartment. It never fails to make my chest fill with pride as I step over the threshold.
I helped do this. Years of hard work and pain. Clandestine meetings with King Anson and Remus at their mountaintop prison to the east. A life spent prowling the night and rarely seeing sunlight.
Planning. Bleeding. Loss.
A scarlet uniform catches my attention as I step into the ballroom, along with a flash of silver hair. Archduke Levanter has approached, his expression steely and businesslike. “Rasmussen. The King gave me your report on pro-Varga activity in the southwest of the city. It makes for worrying reading.”
“Good evening, Your Grace. Yes, they need to be stopped. I’ve made several arrests this week, and I’m confident I’ll have everything secured within the month.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Good man. And I appreciate you coming to Court when you don’t need to. The more people keeping this place secure, the better.”