I was beginning to suspect she’d slept with the king’s advisor. What if the king was with someone else?
“Wherever did you get an idea like that?”
“Just speculation.”
“Don’t start new rumors.”
“Never me.” Especially about my husband.
Merrick and Lore did look vaguely alike, though Lore was sharper while Merrick . . . I couldn't say he was softer, not when he had a chiseled jawline, broad, muscular shoulders, and a body I was beginning to believe I'd die if I didn't explore. They were different enough, but that was common in families.
“Do I need to wear a mask to the ball?” I asked.
“Yes, my lady. All attendees will wear them to celebrate the occasion, including the king.” His eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned closer. “May I reveal a secret?”
“Please do.”
“The king’s mask will remain a mystery until the event begins, but the design of his mask will reflect the Evergorne symbol.”
“What does that look like?”
He crafted an image with magic in the air between us.
I'd seen it before.
Two silver ravens facing each other—part of Merrick’s family crest. But that wasn’t the only place where I’d seen wings like this.
They’d been etched into the cover of the book I’d stolen from the library, the one I couldn't open.
38
LORANT
“She has not come to me for three nights,” I roared, pacing. Always pacing. “Three fucking nights.”
“I spoke with her about it today.” Tension thrived in Merrick’s voice. “She’s been busy with Lord Briscalar the past days, discussing details related to the coronation and the events surrounding it. But I asked her to continue with you, and she said she would.”
His assurance should calm me, but it didn’t. “You see her all the time.” Damn, but I sounded like a whiny puss.
“Not as much as I’d like. I’m busy. You know that. I probably don’t see her any more than you.” He kept his voice neutral, but there was something different in his tone.
I stopped pacing and turned to look his way. That gleam in his eyes . . .
“You love her.” Surprise sliced through my words. I shouldbe happy for him, but all I felt was soul-shattering sadness. “Does she love you back? Has she told you yet?”
“No. No, um . . . no. Not yet.” He stared down before looking up, the happiness and hope on his face kicking me in the gut. “I haven’t asked her, either. I wouldn’t. You know that. But there’s something in her eyes when she looks at me that . . . Well, it gives me hope for a future I could never imagine without her.”
Talk about shredding me. Completely shattering my soul.
But I met his eyes and nodded. He needed my acceptance as much as I did his.
“How could I not love her?” he said.
Oh, to feel that bliss of new love.
“It hasn’t been long,” he said. “But she’s . . . You can already see what I mean. You’ve talked with her. Worked with her. She’s amazing. Pretty, yeah. Gorgeous, actually. But it’s not all about that—”
I snorted.
