“Never.” He tipped her chin up, needing her to see the truth in his eyes. “I’m done running, Briar. I’m done being afraid. I want you—only you—for the rest of my life.”
Her breath caught. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying—” He paused, suddenly aware of how inadequate words were for this moment. “I’m saying that I want to marry you, Aurora. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep beside you every night. I want to give you everything—my heart, my kingdom, my name.”
Tears were streaming down her face again, but this time it was accompanied by a smile that wobbled on her lips.
“Will you marry me, Aurora?”
“Yes.” She laughed through her tears. “Yes, yes, yes.”
They drove back to the palace in the early hours of the morning, Aurora asleep in his arms.
Mik’hail couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t stop touching her hair, her cheek, the soft curve of her shoulder. She was his now. Really, truly his. And in a few months, the whole world would know it.
He was already planning the announcement in his head when the car pulled through the palace gates. Already imagining the look on Gordan’s face when he told him the news.
But when the car rolled to a stop and Mik’hail looked up, he knew at once that something was wrong.
Gordan was waiting at the entrance, but he wasn’t smiling. His face was ashen, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, and the moment their eyes met, Mik’hail felt the cold hand of dread close around his heart.
He eased Aurora from his arms and stepped out of the car, every muscle in his body tensing.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I thought...you would want to know in advance.” Gordan swallowed hard. “Lady Aretha...is back.”
Chapter Nine
MY SISTER WAS ALIVE.
The words kept circling in my mind as Mik’hail and I followed the doctor through the palace corridors, but no matter how many times I repeated them, they refused to feel real.
Aretha. Alive.Here.
The doctor stopped outside a door and turned to us, his voice low. “She’s resting now, Your Highness.”
“What happened to her?” I heard myself ask. “Where has she been?”
