I sigh, so weak where he’s concerned. “Follow me.”
We leave Castletree’s grand throne room, and I lead him to my favorite place. When we enter the library, the air changes. It’s crisper, tinged with the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the rich aroma of old books.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been here,” Dayton says.
The library unfurls before us like a dream. Shelves stretch up toward the vaulted ceiling, crafted from amber wood. Books, scrolls, and artifacts fill the shelves. Living vines intertwine withthe shelves, their tendrils winding around leather-bound tomes. Moonlight filters through stained glass windows.
Cozy fireplaces are scattered throughout, casting a golden light with their flames. I can’t hear the festivities in the throne room anymore, just the crackling logs. Above us, autumn leaves fall. Their colors are vibrant—deep reds, burned oranges, and golden yellows.
Dayton picks up a leaf between his thumb and forefinger. “It suits you.”
“What does?”
“Castletree. This library. You’re meant to be High Prince.”
Castletree could suit you too,I think, but keep the thought to myself, inhaling a deep breath. The air carries the perfume of aged parchment, polished wood, and the faint spice of cinnamon and cloves, emanating from the perpetually brewing mulled cider in a corner.
I lead him to a comfy couch in front of the fire in a secluded alcove. Dayton falls to the cushions, his tension seeming to ease now that he’s away from the celebration. He thrives on people, large conversations, and crowds, but he needs this too.
“You wanted to talk,” I say, breaking the silence, “so talk.”
He opens his mouth, closes it.
“What?” I sneer. “Is the great gladiator for once at a loss for words?”
“I miss you.”
My heart melts, because that’s been my only thought since I left Soltide last summer. But I keep my expression neutral, unable to look at him as I say, “You didn’thaveto miss me.”
If you’d come to Coppershire.
“See, that wouldn’t have worked either, Fare,” Dayton says. “That would be all politics. It wouldn’t be like the summer. Fun. Damn, I miss thefunwe had together.”
I observe him from beneath my lashes. There it is, the thing he can’t get past. My title. My future.
“I can’t have fun forever. My mother is eager to pass on the Blessing and?—”
Dayton stands, and he’s in front of me, not touching, but close enough I’m enveloped in the scent of salt and sea and sunshine. “Not at this very moment. You could have fun now.”
I take a step away from him. “My mother expects me to find an acceptable consort. That doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugs and closes the distance I just created. “You don’t have one now. I could show you lots of ways to have fun. We could go to taverns together. Share a woman. Attend parties with the sole purpose of fucking from dusk to dawn. The possibilities are endless.”
I don’t want any possibilities but him. Though he’s probably already lost himself in countless lovely bodies from the Summer Realm since I last saw him. I don’t step away again, mind reeling. He still wants me. Well, wants me some of the time. Will that be enough? Is having only a small piece of the Summer Prince better than nothing at all?
Slowly, I rest my fingers over the shell necklace I made him. He’s still wearing it. His breath hitches beneath my touch.
“If,” I say, “I want you, then you must come. You drop everyone else and come to me. Could you do that?”
“I could do that,” he says, voice sparking with the first bit of life all evening. “If…”
“If?”
“If you say you want me right now.”
I pause, taking him in. Tall, golden hair, tan skin, a little broken around the edges, like a priceless chipped relic. And I know this plan is foolish, because I don’t want a little of him. I want him all. “I want you.”
“Fare.” He grips my face and pulls me into a searing kiss.
