“I will. I promise.”
For a moment, we stand there, the world fading into the background. His gaze drops to my lips. I want to pull him close, to kiss him one last time, but the weight of our families’ eyes feels too heavy. Instead, I release his hands and step back.
Farron lingers a little longer before he turns and opens the door to the carriage. The Autumn caravan begins to move. Their departure is torturous.
As the carriages roll away, the clatter of wheels and the sound of hooves filling the air, a sense of emptiness settles over me. I try to sort through my feelings. I’ve never been one to be content with a single lover, switching partners as often as I switch my clothes, sometimes entertaining more than one during the same night. But I didn’t even think of another’s flesh all month. My entire being craves him.
What do I do now until the Equinox? Remain celibate? I shudder at the thought.
But the notion of descending into one of the bars of Hadria, of losing myself in drink and sweaty skin…
Farron and I never said we would only be intimate with each other. What if he has a newfound fondness for it and explores back in Autumn?
My hands curl into fists, and I have a mind to race after his carriage and?—
And what? Drop to one knee and beg him to make me his consort? To become a piece in this ever-rigid game of politics and princesses and princes? To lose the sea and the sand forever?
These weeks have been magical, but it’s over now.
It’s over.
I stand there long after the carriages have disappeared from view, the courtyard quiet once more. The rest of my family has left, and only my mother remains. Her long blond hair is curled and falls over her shoulders. She gives me a soft smile.
“Hey, Mom,” I say.
“Hello, my baby,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.
I lean down so my cheek rests on the crown of her head.
“I think that was a very productive embassy stay,” my mother says. “We should invite Niamh and her family next year as well.”
“We should.”
“Her first-born son is quite the character.”
I step back and raise a brow. “Careful, you’re starting to sound like Dammy.”
My mother smooths down my hair, the only one in the world capable of making it stay flat. “The High Prince notices political moves, issues with his trades and tariffs, but a mother”—her blue eyes glint—“a mother notices the lightness of her son’s laugh, the ease of his smile, and the sparkle in his eyes. And who they often land upon.”
I run a hand through my hair, messing it all up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her knowing smile widens. “I have been blessed to find two great loves in my life. It’s not something you should shy away from, no matter what difficulties there seem to be. My father himself fell for one of the Huntresses of Aura. The stories mygrandmother told me of leaving her order to become a princess consort?—”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” I chide, but a fire burns beneath my ribs.
“Regardless, my darling boy, I know you.” Her voice is soft as she says, “You’ve changed.”
I close my eyes, the burning sensation next to my heart intensifying. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
12
Farron
Iwipe a bead of sweat off my brow, despite the mild weather. Maybe it’s the constant clang of machinery, the giant mountain that looms over the city, or the clouds of smoke billowing from the forge, but there’s something about Florendel, the capital city of the Spring Realm, that makes me nervous.
I know it’s not the machines, the mountain, or the smoke that sends my pulse skittering, though. It’s the person I need to speak to inside the forge.
The entrance to Draconhold Forge stands before me, a jagged opening that leads to the mountain tunnels within. I know the inside is akin to a beehive; hundreds of skilled workers craft the steel that’s imported throughout the realms. We trade our lumber and bountiful harvests for their craftsmanship.
