“Do you have any others?” I ask.
“A few, though none I like as much as her.”
“I’m feeling better, now that I’m out of the direct sun. Perhaps we could take a detour to the stables? I’d like to see them.”
Bram considers for a moment. “You sure you’re feeling well enough?”
“Very sure.”
We cut across the lawn to the mews on the other side of the palace, shaded by trees and far from the watchful eyes of the viscountess and the other girls. It’s improper, but unlikely anyone will see us.
As we walk, I remember something else Emmett said, about Bram liking the fruit here, since it’s different from what grows in the Otherworld.
I produce a green apple and a pocketknife from the tie-on pocket hanging down the hip of my walking dress.
I always thought the ability to cut slices of fruit while walkingwas one of the more stupid etiquette lessons we were given, but I liked that it gave me an excuse to carry a knife, and it’s certainly coming in handy now.
I pierce the skin and carve out a neat little wedge. “Would you like some?” I offer it to Bram on the tip of my knife.
He grins and takes it. “You know,” he says, still chewing, “we have different fruits in the Otherworld.”
I could laugh. Emmett clearly knows his brother well.
“Really?” I ask.
“Oh yes. Something like a pomegranate but as big as a dinner plate, with seeds as sweet as sugar, and berries blacker than night that taste of smoke and salt.” I wish I had a notepad. I can’t wait to write Ethel about all of this.
“Which do you like better, the food here or back—” I nearly sayhome, but I don’t know if Bram considers the Otherworld home anymore. It’s an unsettling concept, a world near to ours but somewhere just out of reach, maybe that’s why I was so obsessed with the idea of it as a child.
Bram must glean my meaning because he takes a moment to consider, then answers. “The food here, but the drinks there. Fizzy cordials that taste of lemon and roses, wine brewed from night-blooming flowers...” He’s got a far-off look in his eyes as he imagines a place I can’t see.
“You must miss it.” I think of my own golden childhood, how it pains me that I can never go back.
He thinks for a moment, and our boots crunch along the gravel path. I take the opportunity to look up at him, haloed by green leaves. He’s got a freckle on his angular jawline I hadn’t noticed before. He’s so beautiful it hurts to see him straight-on like this,like looking directly into the sun. I wonder if I will ever get used to it if I marry him, or if I’ll spend the rest of my life feeling this starstruck.
He runs a hand through his wavy hair, streaked with sun-bleached gold.
Brown hair. A strong hand on my forehead soothing away a fever.
The stable boys scatter as we enter the sun-dappled barn. We walk slowly along the stalls, petting the velvety noses of the horses.
“I want to thank you for visiting me while I was ill.”
He furrows his brows in confusion. “I’ve been away.”
“Oh, it must have been something I dreamed.” That’s humiliating.
He stops in his tracks and gestures to a stack of hay bales. He lays out his coat for me, and I lower myself beside him.
There’s a deep furrow between his brows, and he twirls the thick gold ring on his pinkie. “I actually wanted to apologize for that. I sent flowers but you deserve more than that. I wish I could have helped.”
“Healed me like you did the day of the Pact Parade, you mean?”
A crease appears between his brows. “No. I would’ve if I could’ve, though. My magic isn’t as developed as my mother’s—more parlor tricks than anything. I can manage small cuts and bruises, but not much more.”
Emmett’s face flashes into my mind. I reach out and brush the sleeve of Bram’s shirt. “I want to get to know you better.”
His mouth pulls into a half smile. “Is that so?”
