26
BRIONY
Six hundred emerald rounds later, I’m a whole wardrobe richer. Evidence of my spoils packs the interior of the coach, for Thorne’s and my travel bags are already taking up the luggage rack. I never knew it could be so satisfying to spend someone else’s money—or any money, for that matter—on myself, but it is. Though I suppose my satisfaction comes less from spending money and more from tormenting Thorne. I took great joy at how wide his eyes grew when he saw the final tally of bags and boxes filling Mr. Boris’ and Minka’s arms. He muttered about how dreadfully I was using him under the terms of our bargain, which was less satisfying, for it seemed more talk than true annoyance. Yet I had to take pleasure in some sense of revenge after he made my heart race earlier.
It’s impossible to forget our exchange with him sitting so close to me in the coach. With the opposite bench so cluttered with my purchases, Mr. Boris and Minka insisted I claim the more comfortable seat beside Thorne. I tried to bully Thorne into sitting with Mr. Boris and my bags, but he would have none of that. So instead, I stare pointedly out the window and try not to recall the warmth of his breath on my face.
Thankfully, the scenery is stunning enough to distract me. After leaving the department store, we began our journey toward Blackwood Estate, which lies just outside the city of Jasper in the countryside. Here the towering emerald mountains loom even larger, while the landscape that flanks the road alternates between forests, farming fields, and wildflower meadows. The Earthen Court truly is a lush and gorgeous place.
We turn off the main road and make our way through a lightly wooded area. Just beyond it, I glimpse a field brimming with long grass and purple flowers. Just looking at the verdant carpet makes me want to kick off my shoes and run through it. Longing pulses in my chest as I’m reminded of my grove outside the convent, my private sanctuary I used to dance in. I always considered my grove as a consolation, second-best to the theaters and society balls I couldn’t attend. While I still yearn for the latter experiences, I find myself regretting that I didn’t appreciate that beautiful grove more. There was beauty in my solitary waltzes. Or even the ones with Thorne, when I thought he was a dream.
Now all that awaits in my future are dances with my unwanted husband. If he’s even one for dancing at all.
My heart sinks, a regrettable thing considering how awed I was a moment before. I rouse myself from my unpleasant musings and focus again on that plush field, imagining the tickle of grass on my bare ankles, the scent of mountain air—
A sudden jolt of the coach has me lurching in my seat. I fling out my arms to brace myself as I’m propelled forward. I manage to catch the wall beside me, but my gloved hand slips. As for my other flailing hand…
A strong palm takes mine, while another grips my waist, pulling me back into my seat. The coach lurches again, but this time, I remain rooted in place. After another much smaller jolt, the coach rolls to a stop. Catching my breath, I assess the scene around me. My bags and boxes have tumbled off the opposite seat, some spilling their contents. Mr. Boris—still in seelie form—frantically reaches for the nearest one, stuffing loose stockings and silk underwear beneath layers of now-crinkled tissue. For a moment I fear Minka has somehow tumbled out of the coach, for I see no sign of her. That is, until I catch sight of the black-and-white cat perched on the backrest, claws digging into the upholstery, body arched in feline terror. I’m taken aback, for I’ve never seen Minka in her unseelie form, but my surprise is quickly surpassed when I feel a squeeze to my palm.
I whip my head to the side and find Thorne far closer than I expect. Not only that, but my hand is clasped in his, inches above his lap. He must have caught it when I reached out to brace myself. I’m suddenly aware of another grip, one firm and warm on my waist. He holds me tight, arm behind me.
“Are you all right?” he asks. The sides of our bodies are pressed so tightly together, I can feel the rumble of his deep voice.
I pull my hand from his and scoot several inches away. He releases my waist without argument. “I’m…fine,” I say. Thank the stars for that word, for how often I’ve come to rely on it to mask what I’m really feeling without lying. I amfine, for I’m feeling neither terrible nor great, but I’m also unnerved, discomposed, disquieted, and all sorts of other things that I care not to admit out loud.
Thorne exits the carriage just as the coachman descends from his perch. I peek outside the door, watching as Thorne rounds the back of the vehicle. He curses under his breath. My curiosity is too strong to keep me inside, so I exit after him. It doesn’t take long to see what transpired; one of the rear wheels has broken. The footman is already assessing the damage while the coachman addresses Thorne. “Mr. Blackwood, we will have the wheel replaced with the spare as soon as possible.”
“I’m grateful,” Thorne says in a voice far kinder than I expect. He turns from the wheel, frowning when he notices I’ve left the coach. Mr. Boris and Minka funnel out beside me, with Minka still in her feline form.
“Wait here,” Thorne says. “I’ll walk to my manor and send alternate transport.”
I furrow my brow. “You’re going to walk? Is it far?”
“We’re already at Blackwood Estate,” he says. “My manor is just a short walk from here.” He starts off toward the field of lush grass. A pinch of envy strikes me.
I follow after him. “I’m coming with you.”
“There’s no need. I’ll have a wagon sent to retrieve you in no time.”
“Yes, but I want to walk.”
He halts and glances over his shoulder. “Forget what I said. My manor is far.”
I scoff. “You won’t dissuade me that easily.”
“You should stay with your belongings instead of leaving six hundred emerald rounds worth of clothing unattended.”
Mr. Boris gives a proud sniff. “I will wait with Her Highness’ purchases. If you’re suggesting we have reasons to fear bandits, then the princess should not remain.”
Thorne hangs his head and rubs his brow. “That’s not what I was implying.”
“Then I’ll walk with you,” I say, closing the remaining distance between us. “You know I don’t do well with boredom.”
He lifts his face, his mouth quirking at one corner. “Instead, you’d rather be alone with me? In the woods?”
I know he’s trying to get me riled up like he did in the department store, but I refuse to fall for his ruse this time. “Instead, I’d like towalk.”
Something soft brushes my leg. I nearly jump out of my skin before I find Minka slinking around my ankles, rubbing on the hem of my skirt in a very catlike manner. “I’ll chaperone,” she says, though her mouth remains closed when she speaks. Not all fae utilize their lips and vocal cords when talking in their unseelie form. Some simply utter the words, carried by fae magic. “The princess won’t be alone. It’s been years since I’ve taken a walk in this form.”
