4
FOURTEEN YEARS OLD
Roman and Violet sat with a game board between them in the Maekin’s family room, arguing over the legality of Violet’s move.
Once a week, Roman joined the Maekins for dinner. His parents insisted he, his mate, and his future in-laws get to know one another better. At first, he’d protested, claiming it would make people suspicious that one of the twins was his mate. His father pointed out he could glamour himself invisible when he slipped in and out of their home. Knowing he couldn’t get out of it, Roman had decided to try.
Vivian’s father insisted on giving her extra training now that she would have a target on her back as the future queen, and the two didn’t return home until an hour before dinner. So every week, Roman would arrive an hour before dinner to spend time with his mate before they ate.
His mother and father assured him his affection for Viv would grow if they spent more time together. It hadn’t.
Whathaddeveloped was his eagerness to see Violet. She made him laugh; a stark contrast to her sister, who made him want to stuff his ears with sand to cut off her constant stream of self-importance.
Lately, he’d found himself arriving two or three hours early to hang out with Violet under the guise of getting to know his future family better. Meri gave him a curious look the first few times he’d showed up early.“I don’t want to cut into my time with Vivian,”he’d lied.“It’s important I get to know all of you.”
“You can’t move that piece,” Roman insisted. “That piece has already moved ten spaces.”
Violet looked indignant. “It has not. It moved three spaces on the first round.” She pointed at the board. “Then four spaces on the second, and three on the third.” She looked at him like he was dense. “That’s only eight spaces.”
He rolled his lips together and tried not to laugh. “That’s ten, princess. Count them again.”
Violet glared at the checkered board. “How are strategy games fun when you have to do homework to play them?”
Roman turned his head to compose himself. She might throw the board at him if she saw him smile. “A piece can only move ten spaces. That’s hardly a full sheet of homework.”
She reached across the board to thump his nose, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. “I’ll write down every piece ten times, bind the pages with leather, and hit you with it,” Violet threatened. “We’ll see if it’s enough to be considered homework then.”
Their close proximity made Roman’s body buzz, and he dropped her wrist to lean back. Drumming his fingers on the table, he debated asking the question that’d been bugging him all day. “Are you and Theo dating?” he blurted out.Smooth.
Violet’s brows shot skyward. “Theo Bront? Why do you ask?”
Roman stared at the gameboard and grappled for an answer he didn’t know himself.WhydoI care?“I noticed you sitting with him and his friends at lunch.”And laughing.
Violet pinned him with a curious stare. “Griff sat there too. Who else would I sit with?”
Me.
Griff sat on theotherside of the table, while Theo and Violet sat next to each other, but Roman decided not to point that out. “I’m trying to look out for you. I don’t like Theo.”
Violet bristled and sat taller. “I can look out for myself.”
Roman leaned forward and moved Violet’s piece back in place. “It’s your move.” He gave her a stern look. “No cheating this time.”
Grumbling under her breath, Violet studied the board. “Why do you and Viv like these games? They’re hard.” She moved her piece in the worst position possible, and he dropped his head.
“My father said it helps to improve at guessing your opponent’s next move.” His father obsessed over strategies. In the history of Eden, no kingdom had battled another. They dealt with rebel attacks, but the rebels were hardly worthy opponents. Still, his father insisted they stay prepared. Roman suspected it had something to do with the Desert King. Rumors claimed the man to be cruel.
Roman’s father had always treated him as an adult. As a small child, instead of playing with others his age, he read old war books and practiced how to deliver killing blows. Junior warrior training started at age eleven, but for Roman, he started at age five, training tirelessly with his parents or their top generals for hours every day. No breaks meant no friends. There’d always been a disconnect between him and his classmates, even now.
Except with Violet.
“If I’m to be king, I have to be ready long before I take the throne.” He gestured to the board. “These games help.”
“Do you do anything for fun?” She sounded concerned, her freckled nose scrunching a bit.
“I like training.” He waved his hand over the board again. “I like strategy games and puzzles.”
“But do those things make you laugh?” she pressed. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you laugh.”
