Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Why weren’t you two romantically . . .”
He lifts his head and arches a brow at me. “Your sister never talked to you about it?”
I tense. I have no idea. Would Brie have shared something like that with her younger sister? It seems probable, but that would’ve bordered on gossip, and the shadow queen doesn’t seem the type. Plus, Jas probably wouldn’t have been interested. “I guess I never got the details,” I finally say.
“Amira and I were a political match, but when we married, she was in love with someone else. I . . . I respected that.”
“You’re saying you never expected her to love you in return?” I ask, because it’s clear the king harbored at least some feelings for his queen.
“I’m saying we approached our marriage in the best way we knew how, given our unique circumstances.” He glances toward the cottage door as if he wants to make sure no one is listening. “I’m saying that we never had a reason to expect our union to give us an heir.”
I clear my throat. “Oh. I see.”
The old faerie scuttles out onto the patio again and sets bowls down in front of each of us and a covered basket in the center of the table. “Carrot ginger soup with curry and coconut crème and fresh-baked sourdough bread,” she says. She pulls a bottle of wine from her apron and fills our glasses. “And a sparkling wine that will bring out all those autumnal flavors—a true faerie wine. It’s our house specialty.”
“Thank you,” I say. “If this tastes half as good as it smells, I know I’m in for a treat.”
The old faerie beams at me. “I like this one, Your Majesty.”
Misha scans my face and nods. “As do I,” he says without taking his gaze off me, and my stomach flip-flops.
She winks at him before trudging back into the cottage.
“Thank you,” he says, expression softening.
“What? What did I do?”
“For being kind to Fancee. It’s a small thing, but it means everything to her. And to me.”
My cheeks heat, and I reach for my wine. “I was only being honest.”
Misha puts his hand on top of my glass. “That’s her special wine.”
“Should I only drink after I try the soup?” I ask, confused.
“When someone says something is a true faerie wine, they mean it’s going to loosen your inhibitions, make you lose track of time. Fancee is apparently set on making this a date to remember.”
I release my glass. “Oh.”
His grin goes wide and a little wicked. “I’m not saying you can’t drink it. I just want you to know what you’re getting into.”
“I think I’ll stick to water.” My cheeks heat further, and I’m sure the redness is creeping up into my hairline at this point. The last thing I need to do is loosen my inhibitions around this male. I already seem to lose control of my tongue in his presence. I’d hate to see what would happen if we added faerie wine to the mix.
I pick up my spoon. “Is the soup safe?”
He chuckles. “Yes. The soup is safe. And I do trust her. She’s not trying to trick us—just trying to help in her own way.” He waves to our surroundings. “Just like the ambience.”
“Well, I’ve never had a romantic dinner before,” I say. “So I guess it’s kind of nice.”
“Not even with your baker’s son?” he asks.
“I—” I duck my head. Focus, Felicity. “We had to be discreet.” I hate the lie. I’m beginning to hate all the lies.
To distract myself, I bring a spoonful of soup to my lips. Misha watches me. It’s delicious, but it’s hard to focus on anything but his eyes on my mouth as I swallow. “Is that your hawk?” I ask, nodding to the bird if only to get his eyes off me.
Misha glances toward the hawk for a moment before returning the full weight of his attention to me. “That’s Storm, my familiar.”
I arch a brow, waiting for an explanation.
“I can only be in one place at a time, so Storm helps me keep an eye on things in all the places I cannot be. Our minds are linked, so what he sees, I know.”
I grin. “Your personal spy.”
Misha grunts and picks up his spoon. “Does it bother you? Would you like me to ask him to leave?”
I shake my head. “I’m just surprised you have him here.” I take another steaming spoonful from my bowl and barely stifle a moan as all the flavors explode on my tongue.
“He’s done as I asked for the day, and he likes to be close to me when he can be.”
“That’s kind of sweet.” I stir my soup. It’s so delicious I want to make it last. “And who did he spy on for you today?”
“Truth be told, I have him watching a few different groups for me right now. We’re hosting our yearly ball at the castle at the end of the week. It’s always a security risk to invite so many outsiders into my court and into my home.” He removes the napkin from the basket and hands me a piece of crusty bread. “Storm’s skills are just one of the ways we take precautions against those who might have less than honorable intentions.”