Страница 74 из 105
Opal
Beshal’s eyes widened, the teapot shaking in her hand. “Marriage?”
In the days since the king had presented me with the opportunity I’d been waiting for, I’d done my best to occupy myself while trying to wrap my mind around all that I’d agreed to for the sake of my kingdom.
But I was being dishonest if I thought that was all I’d been trying to make peace with. For this thrill, this gathering elation in the pit of my stomach and chest, said it was so much more than a mere contractual agreement.
It meant potentially giving in to what I felt. I just wasn’t sure how to do that without forgiving him for all he’d done. And forgiving Dade Volkahn of his many atrocities…
I took the offered tea and sipped. “Yes. Is that citrus?”
Beshal nodded, Fink hiding amongst the gathered skirts of my gown with her friend Thompson, who’d been shy when I’d first arrived but shaking with excitement when I’d lowered my hand to lift him onto one of my crossed legs. “Mandarin and lavender, dear. My favorite for this time of year.”
Indeed, the leaves were collecting in piles now, winter’s kiss upon the air.
Beshal sat upon a small rock, her tiny booted feet swinging beneath her apricot frilled gown that looked more like an oversized apron. “My,” she said, clucking her tongue and drinking some tea. “I ca
I wanted to hear more about Dade and his uncle, but rustling sounded.
Harro exited their home in the base of an elm tree, pushing past ferns that served as a fence with a tray of what appeared to be nuts in hand. “Princess, you’re just in time for some peppered nuts.”
I thanked him and took one while Beshal filled him in, and bit down too hard as a memory came forward from the dark. The memory of lying in that cave, fighting the need to shift and finding that pouch of peppered nuts that one of Dade’s warriors must have dropped on their journey across the crossover and through the woods to slaughter my people.
I was to marry the monster who’d killed my father.
I swallowed, not tasting anything but the sour essence of regret.
Did he regret it? Would he go back and change the past if he could?
I wanted to believe he would. I wanted to believe so many things that I feared would be a mistake to ever believe in again.
Harro released a rumbling laugh. “Marriage? The crimson king?” He bobbed over the rock he’d taken a seat on with his fading laughter. “Well, I do not think so.”
“Do you think the princess would lie about such a thing?” Fink said, her head popping out from under the sea green of my skirts. “Besides, Papa, he loves her.”
I nearly laughed at that. Love.
Dade Volkahn wouldn’t know the first thing about love, let alone being in love.
As I lowered my empty teacup, I was hit with the startling realization that I didn’t either. That maybe, if this was all this life had to give, then I would never know what it was to fall in love. Lust, most certainly, but never true love.
Fink gazed up at me, her smile dreamy. “What’s it like to kiss a king? Especially one as handsome as he.”
Liquid fire, I immediately thought. The type that extinguished all thought and sensibility. The type that melted with a mere hint of touch.
“I’ll beg your pardon, youngling,” Beshal sputtered. “Mind your tongue.”
Harro grunted. “And that imagination, please.”
I smiled, hoping the dipping sensation inside me was not present upon my cheeks, and carefully tapped the pad of my finger under Fink’s chin. “Who says I’ve kissed him?”
Her secretive smile gave me away, but she only whispered, “Your expression, my lady.” Then Thompson grabbed her ankle, and she squealed, ducking back inside the rayon skirts to catch him back.
“You’re apprehensive.” Beshal eyed me curiously with her head tilted. “It’s smart, I suppose,” she said, nodding. “This ah, arrangement will surely put an end to this feud, but is it what you want?”
It was and it wasn’t, and I didn’t know how to answer that.
Harro’s brows furrowed, then he jumped to his feet, nuts flying from his hand. “He comes.” Rushing forward, he made to snatch the younglings from my skirts, but the king was already here, and I smiled even as my heart sank. That he’d come looking for me when, aside from leaving a black rose outside my rooms for the past two evenings, he’d been content to leave me with my thoughts, did not bode well.
“It’s fine. You are safe.” I reached out a hand to Dade when he appeared, smoky shadow curling around his typical attire of black, his long leather coat twisting in the breeze behind him and revealing a black vest underneath. “Our king loves a good cup of tea.”
Dade’s eyes narrowed, his impatience to take me and tell me whatever it was that had made him come in search of me apparent in the thi
“I forgot it, and those things can wait five minutes,” I said, retracting my hand and helping myself to another cup of tea. Though I was curious to know what things he was referring to.
Harro and Beshal were as still as the stones surrounding us, the two younglings inside my skirts the same.
“Opal…”
“It is delicious,” I said to my tiny cup, and sipped before looking back at Beshal. “And we were in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude to leave before we are done.”
One second passed. Then two. On the third, he finally caved and asked, “Dare I ask what this conversation was about?”
I snorted a little, smiling up at him. “You, of course.”
His blue eyes blazed at my taunt, lips curling slightly. “Wonderful.” Sighing, the king lowered to the grass and crossed his giant legs. He waved his hand. “Fine. Proceed.”
I hadn’t thought he’d give in, and his commanding presence suddenly seemed too much, both too stifling and freezing, to fit here on the ground with us.
But fit he was trying to do.
Thankfully, Beshal launched into action, pouring her king a tea with only a slight tremble in her hand. She marched around the small stump holding the tray and nuts, pushing through the grass that reached her shoulders, and lowered before Dade. “Here you are, sire.”
We waited in tense silence as Dade sniffed at the tea, his nose crinkling in a way that caused my lips to itch with the begi
Harro seemed to be holding his breath, eyes wide on the king, feet stuck in place in the grass and his beard shifting in the breeze, while Beshal watched on with smiling, eager eyes.
The two younglings still hadn’t moved, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew they were waiting, too.
“Delicious,” he finally said, seeming a little surprised as he took another sip, ridding what remained before handing the teacup back.
“Another, my king?” Beshal asked, already backing up toward the teapot.
“No,” he said simply.
“Thank you,” I added, irked by his rudeness.
Dade’s attention swung to me, his smile lethal yet warm. “Thank you.”
I returned his smile, then forced my eyes back to the elves. “I was informing them of our plans to wed.”