But then the reminder that these birds are my ticket to becoming Dante’s queen stifles my resentment. Perhaps she isn’t working against me. If only she’d picked a better evening to intercede in my life.
Dante observes the play of emotion that ripples across my face. “Any chance I could participate in that conversation you’re having with yourself?”
“I was contemplating the possibility that my grandmother is for naught in this whole story.”
His mouth twists. “I will have my sprite’s wings cleaved if he forgot—”
“Please. No. No punishing anyone. It’s in the past.” I lay my hand on his shoulder, which is corded with so much muscle it feels like wisteria vines. “Besides, it was only one night. Now that you’re home, we can have another. Many, even.”
My promise softens his mood but abrades my own. Prophecy or not, if Dante finds out I was out kissing another man last night, he’ll regret having sent me a dress. It’s on the tip of my tongue to confess, but before I manage to push the dreaded words out, the hand not holding the cask sets on my spine and Dante’s mouth lands on mine.
The musty cellar fades, and I’m tossed four years in the past, in the shadows of Tarelexo where this same man, only a boy at the time, put his mouth where no other had ever rested.
This kiss feels familiar and different, like a first and yet a second. It pins my heart to my breast and funnels its beats into my nipples. The pink beads of flesh are so stiff, I fear they’ll poke right through the sturdy fabric of my dress and tear up Dante’s silken uniform.
I raise my hands to his neck, palm the hot skin and the muscles twitching beneath. Dante’s tongue pushes into my mouth, lashes against my own, demanding and harsh, commandeering every dark corner, as though the man is reminding me that he is my prince and everything in Luce is his to take, including my body.
“Oh. I—” Giana’s voice hurls me back to the low-ceilinged, dank cellar.
Even though I’m hidden from her line of sight by Dante’s breadth and height, I don’t dare move. I thank all our gods for his size, even though it’s probably his parents I should thank. But I don’t much appreciate his mother, who believes round-ears deserve no regard, so thanking our divinities feels more fitting.
“Apologies for interrupting, Altezza. I needed some wine.”
My cheeks flame. Dante smiles, amused to have been discovered, or perhaps he smiles because he’s proud to have caused my body to react so brightly. I’m still hoping Gia will assume Dante was kissing some other woman, but then he shifts sideways to extend the cask he took from me earlier, and I don’t have time to dash behind the wooden shelving.
Giana’s gray eyes land on mine, eddying with so much reproach that my insides squirm. I want to tell her I didn’t initiate this rendezvousorthe kiss, but she’s already heading upstairs with the wine. I cover my face and hang my head.
“Hey . . .” Dante slides his hand beneath my wrist to cup my cheek. “I know you’re at work, but I’m the prince. You can’t get in trouble for kissing a prince.”
I’m so absorbed by my roiling guilt that I cannot get myself to open my eyes and look at him.
“If she gives you any grief”—he rests his thumb on the sharp bone in my cheek—“I’ll sever her tongue.”
That makes my lids fly up and air rush down my throat. “Dante,” I hiss. “No.” I shake my head, shaking his palm off at the same time.
“I won’t tolerate anyone hurting you, Fal. With words or with actions.”
“Giana would never hurt me.”
“I saw the look she gave you.”
“She’s like a sister, Dante. A caring and concerned one.”
He watches me through lowered lashes, his irises more spilled ink than midday sky. “Well, her concern is misplaced, because I would never do you harm.”
“You’re a prince.Theprince. And I’m . . . I’m the girl from the wrong side of the canal with the curved ears. That’s what she sees. That’s what the world sees.”
He dips his chin nearer his neck. “You’re the girl I want to spend my nights with, Fallon.”
A new rush of heartbeats batters my ribs and whisks away my guilt and nerves. What if Bronwen didn’tforeseeI’d marry him, but is somehow compelling him to desire me? “You mentioned nights. What about my days? Don’t you want to spend those with me?”
He moves into my space again and spears his long fingers through my hair. “I didn’t mention daytime because it’s filled with work.”
“So, not because your brother and my grandfather wouldn’t approve?”Or because of your princess?
“I don’t much care for their approval, Serpent-charmer.” He brushes a lock of hair off my cheek, then kisses me once more. “I’m needed in the palace again tonight and for the week to come, but as soon as I’m discharged of my princely duties, I’m taking you out.” He steps back. “And I want you to wear your new dress.”
I wonder if Antoni is upstairs, and if he is, whether Gia has spoken to him.
