“A coronation is the perfect place for rebels to attack,” Roman explained. Tradition in the Tropical Kingdom dictated the monarchs from each kingdom be in attendance, customarily accompanied by members of their council, as well as the palace staff, warriors, and others who worked directly under the crown. After the coronation, a parade through the capital took place, and over the next month, a tour through the kingdom to every village.
“He’s right,” Roman’s mother remarked to her husband. “The rebels recklessly attacked the Desert King and Queen in broad daylight. Having every ruler, their council, and all the battalion in one place would be the perfect place to attack.” He sighed. “We’ll send word to the other royals to not come. It’s too dangerous.”
* * *
By the time Roman stopped by the florist and picked out a bundle of flowers he thought Violet would like, War said Violet was on her way to dinner with her parents in town and then they’d be home.
Deciding to give her alone time with them after not seeing them for a year, he headed home to get started on Violet’s birthday gift.
Their birthdays, and his coronation, were the day after tomorrow, and he wanted it to be perfect.
* * *
Violet and War approached the bunker’s gate and slipped inside with a nod to the night guards. A clucking sound drew their attention to the left side of the bunker’s courtyard, and War froze.
Babs strutted toward them, her sights trained on the large tigon. The sheaths on War’s head shot straight as his quills made an appearance. Violet looked between War and Babs.
War’s low growl had Violet taking a step forward to put herself between the chicken and cat. “It’s just Babs,” she said to War slowly, “Roman’s pet chicken. Have you not met her before?”
Everything happened at once.
Babs shot forward with a battle cry, Violet dove toward the bird before War could eat her, and War ran.
You’d have thought lightning struck his ass with how fast he took off. Babs gave chase, and Violet stared slack-jawed after the two. Babs was fast, she’d give her that, but the devil’s little legs were nothing compared to the tigon.
War roared and disappeared behind the bunker. Babs had a long way to go before she reached the corner, and Violet couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or follow them.
Roman charged out of the bunker fit to kill until Babs squawked and he saw her disappear around the backside of the building. He chuckled to himself and walked to Violet’s side. “I see Babs broke out of the pen again.”
Violet pointed in the direction the animals disappeared. “Why did War look terrified?”
Roman smirked. “Because he is, and he knows he can’t kill her.”
A beat of silence followed, followed by Violet’s burst of laughter. Roman watched her, a look of wonder on his face. “I missed you today.”
She kissed his lips lightly and looped her arm through his. “I missed you too.”
They passed through the large sitting room, and Violet noticed one of Roman’s handheld puzzles, along with a few stray leaves. “What in the world were you doing in here?”
A flush crept up his neck, and he scooped up the leaves, stuffing them in his pocket. “Nothing.” Grabbing his puzzle, he turned to leave, but Violet reached out to stop him.
“Show me.”
He gazed over his shoulder at her. “It’s nothing. Just something I do to pass the time.”
Violet shook her head. “You have a lot of them, and I’ve seen you with one before.” He turned to her with a curious look. “When we were younger,” she clarified. “I saw you at one of your birthday balls. You were on the small patio. I didn’t tell you I was there, but I watched you. You started twisting it fast, but King Felix came out looking for you. It was small enough to put in your pocket.”
The flush on his throat spread to his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “They’re called shape shifter puzzles. You match the symbols or colors on each moving piece together.” He twisted the pieces with quick precision, too fast for Violet to track.
The smile on his face held her captive. It started small, but the closer he came to victory, the bigger it grew. They werefunfor him. Since they were teenagers, she’d worried he’d never find something that brought him joy. Watching him was like watching a beautiful flower bloom under the summer sun.
He finished and held up the puzzle with triumph. It no longer resembled a jumbled mess, but a white rose with green leaves hugging the bud. Reaching out, she took the puzzle from him, stunned. “Rome, this is incredible.”
He shrugged like it was nothing. “I like doing them.”
“Can I keep this one?” She wanted to remember the smile on his face when he held out the rose puzzle for the rest of her life.
His brows lowered. “Of course.”
