Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
I spring to my feet, swallowing a wince of pain, and climb the tree towards the molten gold plumage. Its wings are caught in a web of thin branches.
I slip, palms grazing the bark to find purchase. I hiss at the pain and jerk my head around at a gentle tutting. Prince Nicostratus, arms folded, looking up at me. “I have to be the envy of all.” He leaps into the tree with easy, lazy grace, until his face is level with mine. “I’ve won the biggest heart in the kingdom.”
I stare. How sincere he is. How kind. How gentle. There couldn’t be a single female or other-oriented soul in the land who would not see what a wonderful man this is. He has to be the epitome of what one desires. There’s no sharpness here, no cutting edge. No gaze that dissects me, no words that leave me reeling. Nicostratus is soft, and safe, and everything I deserve.
This is what true romance feels like. This is why I’ve held on so tightly to my heart—so I can give it away to whom I choose. A man who took in a struggling young vespertine; who stayed by his mother’s side in her last days. A man who has always smiled at me.
My limbs are trembling and I lean into a forked branch, extending a hand towards the stuck bird. “Free it for me?”
The dove flaps wildly as Nicostratus’s hands work to free it. For a moment, I envy its simplicity—it knows what it wants, fights against the branches holding it back. I force my hands to steady and grip the branch. I know what I want too. Don’t I?
The dove whooshes through the air, two of its loosened feathers fluttering to the courtyard.
Yes, this is it. This is love. This is as light as a heart can ever feel. Isn’t it? My stomach twists, but I shove the feeling aside. Love isn’t complicated—it’s safe, kind, steady. Nicostratus is all of these things. He’s everything I should want. Everything I do want.
Whenever Nicostratus takes a step in my direction, I’ll take a step in his.
He picks up one of the feathers and I pivot to the other side of the tree after the other. My hands shake as I pick it up.
Love.
Yes. I couldn’t be more sure.
The feather grazes my other hand, a teasing tickle that sends an unexpected shiver through me. Excitement, surely. Not anything else.
My hand shakes as I press the feather into the soil, grounding myself in this choice. My choice. I let my wish take shape for true love, for a future unclouded by piercing stares and impossible standards. A future with Nicostratus, with nothing else but his steady kindness.
Nicostratus peeks at me and I force myself to meet his eyes.
I smile. “What did you wish for?”
He laughs. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
A breeze bends our feathers as if to blow them into the queen’s residence. “Do you think they’ll come true if we steal these back? They’re so pretty—”
He gently smacks my outstretching hand and laughs. “Let’s not risk it.”
I gulp and pull him to the bench, where I carefully roll up his sleeves to bruised skin.
My stomach takes a dive. This is my fault.
I can’t look at his face, but I feel his gaze on mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“The risk you took was touching.”
“I should’ve been more careful. I hate that they did this to you.”
“Will it make you feel better if I tell you they got swift comeuppance?”
I jerk my head up.
“My brother swept in the next morning for a spot inspection. Interestingly, every redcloak that’s ever laid a hand on me was found guilty of breaking one rule or another. Fifty lashes each, in front of the men.”
My gaze finally darts towards the queen’s residence. “Quin did that?”
“There’s nothing he hasn’t done or won’t do for me.”
He pulls me half onto his lap and I fold against his firm muscles and breathe him in. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“Family dinner.”
At the mention, we hear the joyous cry of the little prince in the distance.
“I should let you get in there,” I say, shifting, and he tightens his hold.
“I could steal an hour before dinner a couple of times of a week . . .”
My heart thumps. “Really?” I squirm in his arms to look at his smiling face. “Would you teach me to make a shield? Could you take me and Florentius to the other island?”
“Only my brother or the duke can issue bead-passes for that.” Oh. “But I can help you to defend yourself.”
I find his armband, and kiss it. And kiss it again, because . . . love.
“Cael? Did you hear me?”
I shake off my contemplative frown and look over the garden table at Veronica, dressed in plum—to reference the plum trees surrounding us, swollen with ripening fruits. She is beautiful, with a fragrance to match. Fit for . . . the queen she is.