“You were furious, I imagine.”
“I was not pleased.” The King snorted. “I'm sure you noticed the state I was in. That is not usual for me.” He brushed away a piece of lint from his lapel. “I like things a certain way. Especially my clothes. I do not go storming through the streets to bash on a man's door late at night, then barge into his home and force myself on him.” He made a lamenting sound. “I don't know what came over me. You tripped, I caught you, and then there you were, looking so lovely. Your hair crimped from your braid, falling around you like spun gold. Your lips parted. Your eyes so dark and shining. It felt right to lean in and kiss you.”
“I might have allowed it once,” I whispered.
“You were right to not allow it last night,” King Rianvar admitted. “You don't know me. For me to take such liberties with you is an abuse of my power.” A flush ran up his neck. “I need you to know I am not that kind of man. I would never . . . that's just . . .”
I laid my hand over his. “I understand. Thank you for coming by to apologize in person. Other kings may have simply sent a note, if that.”
The King turned his hand over beneath mine. He didn't weave our fingers together, just put us palm to palm. My heart sped up to feel the softer skin of his palm under mine. Warm. Yielding.
I met his stare.
“Will you give me a second chance?” King Rianvar asked, his voice even softer than his hand.
“Yes, of course,” I whispered.
The Dragon King's smile was instant and glorious. His hand shifted to take mine and lift it to his lips. He pressed a chaste kiss on the top of my hand and then lowered it to my lap. “Thank you, Galin. I promise to treat you properly this time.” He stood up and inclined his head to me. “Is seven still good for you?”
I chuckled. “You didn't ask before.”
“I'm asking now.”
“Seven is fine, Your Majesty.”
“Wonderful.” King Rianvar's stare shifted over my face. “I'm looking forward to it.” He stood up and picked up his hat. Then paused to say, “Your braids were pretty. I was wrong to demand that you adjust your appearance for me.”
I watched the Dragon King walk out of the workroom, his presence making the large space feel small. His hair fell in a glossy line to his broad shoulders, his cloak hung smooth, without a single wrinkle, and his trousers had a crisp line up the back. I'd never met a more masculine yet elegant man. And I liked it. I liked him.
“I'm looking forward to tonight as well, Your Majesty,” I whispered as the shop bell rang, signaling the King's departure.
Chapter Seven
The Dragon King showed up promptly at seven o'clock. He knocked on the door himself and after I let him in, handed me a ribbon-wrapped slim box.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I wanted to bring you something.” King Rianvar shifted and smoothed his vest. “But I didn't think flowers were appropriate.”
I untied the ribbon and cast it on a nearby counter. “I'm glad you decided against them. I don't like flowers.”
“You don't likeflowers?” He lifted a brow.
“Allow me to clarify. I like flowers. I just don't like someone cutting them. They have such brief lives as it is. They should be left to bloom for as long as possible, adding their beauty to the world where they are, not in some vase where they're fated to wilt and fall apart. Their petals should fall on the ground where they can nourish the whole of the plant as they're meant to.”
The Dragon King stared at me, a strange look on his face. “That's beautiful. Tonight, after I return to the castle, I'mordering a ban on cut flowers in the castle. Perhaps we can bring potted plants inside during winter instead.”
“That's much better. Then you'll be extending the flower's life instead of cutting it short.”
King Rianvar grinned and nodded toward the box. “I hope these blooms are more to your liking.”
Inside the box, nestled in gold cups, was an assortment of maripaze—Argaiv sweets made from a sugar and almond paste. The confectioner who crafted them was a master. Each one was shaped into a different type of flower, the petals painted expertly and the stamens gilded. It was a whole bouquet of sweets.
“They're almost too beautiful to eat,” I said, my hand hovering over them.
“Well, don't indulge just yet,” the King said. “You'll ruin the dinner I have planned.”
I shut the box and set it on the case with the ribbon. “Just let me get my scarf.” I picked up a wool wing scarf and started to slip my wings into it.
