“Your officers have been perfect gentlemen,” Autumn assured him. “I didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort. I simply thought your inquiry might indicate that you and she had... um... decided to spend more time together.”
Dilys hesitated. It belatedly occurred to him that indicating an interest in Summer might not exactly endear him to the two princesses he had been courting since his arrival. For a man trained since birth to understand and anticipate the desires of women, it was a particularly egregious oversight. But since neither one of them appeared put out at the possibility, he cautiously admitted, “I had thought perhaps we might begin to do so.”
Another look passed between the two sisters. Dilys recognized that one. It wasn’t a good look. And it meant he’d completely misread the two Seasons’ response to his inquiry.
“Is that so?” Spring said. Black brows arched high over chilly green eyes.
“I thought you preferred someone with a little more fire to her,” Autumn said. “Someone a bit less like”—she turned to her sister Spring—“what was that he called Summer again?”
“Milked tea,” Spring supplied, her frosty gaze pinned on Dilys’s face.
“Right. Milked tea.” Autumn turned back towards Dilys and smiled.
That smile very nearly made him take a step back. He stopped himself just in time. There were creatures in the world to whom a man dare show no fear if he hoped to survive an encounter with them. Women—particularly angry women who thought they were protecting a beloved sister—were among the most dangerous of such creatures.
“As I already explained, that remark was a show of prideful idiocy that I regretted as soon as it left my lips. I didn’t mean it. I never meant it, and I have already apologized for it. An apology which,” he reminded them, “all three of you accepted.”
“Well, there’s forgiving,” Autumn said, “and then there’s forgetting.”
“Two entirely separate things.” Spring moved to her sister’s side, effectively putting a wall of bristling femininity directly in Dilys’s path. “Judging by the fact that Summer has made such a point of steering clear of you, I’d say she hasn’t forgotten anything.”
“And the forgiving is still pretty iffy too.” Autumn’s smile was so sharp it was a wonder he wasn’t bleeding from multiple lacerations.
“I am aware I have much work to do to earn my way back into your sister’s good graces. That’s one of the reasons I was hoping to speak with her tonight. To start making amends.”
“And?” Spring’s eyes hadn’t warmed in the slightest.
His brows drew together in confusion. “And what?”
“The other reasons you wanted to speak with her.” Autumn elucidated crisply. “What are they?”
Dilys had faced enemy armies less fierce than these two women grilling him about his intentions towards their sister. His admiration for them grew exponentially, as did his interest in the woman who had inspired such ferocious love and loyalty.
He had come here to court the three Seasons of Summerlea, and to choose from them alianawho was strong, wise, and capable enough to mother Calberna’s next queen. Everything he knew, everything he’d personally come to know about Autumn and Spring said they, not their sister, were the right choice to fill that role.
And yet every instinct and every cell in his body was telling him that Summer, rather than either of her wise, capable, strong sisters, was not just the woman for him, but theonlywoman for him.
Her sisters wanted to know his intentions towards her. A cautious man would hedge his bets now. Even if he wanted to follow his instincts to see what might come of them, he would keep his options open—court all three sisters, as per his agreement with Khamsin of the Storms—in case his instincts turned out to be wrong.
But Dilys had been in enough battles to know that sometimes a bold, direct, all-or-nothing attack was the only path to victory. Considering that his desire for Gabriella Coruscate had been growing stronger every day, despite the fact that she had turned avoiding him into a masterful talent, this battle was one where caution was the wrong choice.
“Forgive me, but my other reasons are personal. I will not do her the disservice of sharing them before I have a chance to speak with her privately.” He bowed gravely first to Spring and then Autumn. “MyerialannaSpring,MyerialannaAutumn. Thank you both for the honor of your company these last ten days. You have made me feel truly welcome. Any man would be graced by the gods to call himself yourakua,your husband. And now, if you will excuse me, asMyerialannaSummer will not be joining the festivities this evening, I will take my leave of you.”
As he walked away he heard Autumn say, “Did he just...dumpus?”
“You know,” Spring responded in a thoughtful tone, “I believe he did.”
Autumn’s voice dropped to a whisper, which Dilys’s acute hearing picked up as easily as if she’d been talking full voice right into his ear. “I knew there was something going on between the two of them! Iknewit! I told you she was lying about it! I told you she was lying, even to us.”
“It would seem so. The real question is... why?”
And that was the question Dilys was still pondering several hours later as he wandered through the shadowy, twilit gardens towards the shores of the Llaskroner Fjord.
Why would Summer Coruscate work so hard to avoid a suitor she was attracted to—assuming her sisters were right about her interest? Why would she make such an effort to make him believe she not only didn’t like him, she wasafraidof him? And why, when by all accounts she shared an extremely close bond with her fellow Seasons, would she lie about her feelings, even to the sisters she loved and trusted above all others? It made no sense.
The thick, soft garden grass beneath Dilys’s feet gave way to the hard stone terrace and stairs leading down to the small pleasure-craft dock where several row- and sailboats had been moored for the use of the palace guests. Dilys descended the steps and stepped out onto the wooden dock. The moon had risen. Its silvery light glittered on the night-dark surface of the water.
For an instant, he thought he saw a woman standing at the far end of the dock, her slender form silhouetted by the moonlight, but when he turned his full attention towards her, she was gone. He frowned and stopped in his tracks. The vision felt odd, like a flash of memory or a hazy fragment of a dream swimming up from his subconscious. It had to be a dream. He’d never been down here on this dock, at night, with a woman. His evening sails with Autumn and Spring had been aboard theKracken,not these small pleasure boats, a decision he’d made specifically so he would be able to concentrate on entertaining the princesses rather than handling ropes, sails, and the boom. As for his daily swims in the fjord, he’d restricted those to the early-morning hours, when most of the palace and village were still asleep but the sun had already risen.
