For her. He’s doing all of this for her.
“You are amazing,” she says as she caresses his cheek. Stars above. There’s frosting on her fingers.
And on his cheek.
Maybe he won’t notice.
She pulls her hand back and lowers it to her side, and he frowns.
“Did you get frosting on me?”
Clearing her throat, she hides her sticky fingers behind her back. “Frosting?”
He’s quick, though, and he grabs her wrist, holding it up between them. There’s definitely frosting on her fingers.
“Sorry?” She offers him a sheepish smile. “It was an accident. I’m a disaster.”
He leans close to her, and her heart speeds up. What is he doing?
“My disaster.” Hepulls away and gazes into her eyes as he trails a finger down her cheek.
A playful grin fills his face, and her eyes narrow as she feels her cheek and pulls back a hand covered in frosting.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
He shrugs. “It’s not real. At least that’s what I keep reminding myself.”
“So we can just wish the stickiness away?”
“I hope so.”
“Then you won’t mind if I do this?” She takes a finger full of frosting and flicks it at his cheek.
“That was an act of war.”
“You started it, my elven prince.”
“I believe you started it.”
“That was an accident.”
“I’m not certain it matters.” He leans close again. “You might wish to run.”
Run? Stars above.
There’s no way she can outrun him, but she kicks off her shoes, hikes up her skirt, and takes off anyway.
She doesn’t get far before a glob of cake and frosting hits her shoulder.
This is definitely war.
Circling back, she barely dodges another glob of frosting before digging her hand into the cake.
Mother would be horrified.
Arisanna flings the cake at Cerian’s face, but he obliterates it with his fire magic before it even gets close.
“No fair using your magic!”
