“I’ve never thrown myself inside.”
“Just picture yourself diving in. That’s how you do it,” he explains. “It’s the same as projecting another person into the story, except you’re focusing on you.”
“Okay.”
There’s no time to even read what book Ryals is in. It doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m coming for him.
I close my eyes and release my magic. The power slithers around me tightly, and the next thing I know, I’m springing from my spot on the floor and being sucked down, down, down.
I land gently on an uneven surface. I blink my eyes open, half expecting nausea to come but not surprised when it doesn’t. It seems I’m cured of my travel sickness. Probably has something to do with a certain fae king.
But back to the book. In front of me lies a sprawling meadow dotted with wildflowers. At the end of it sits a charming stone cottage. Smoke curls up from a chimney, and outside, two young women carrying baskets and wearing clothes from a different century approach the house.
There’s a small brook, and a black carriage slowly rolls up to the cottage. I’ve been in this book before, but it’s been years.
It’s Jane Austen.
“Pride and Prejudice,” comes a low-timbred voice from behind me.
My spine snaps tight. At the same time my bones ache and my heart squeezes to the point of bursting.
I exhale a shaky breath and slowly turn. My legs are limp as wet noodles, and I’m surprised that they don’t collapse. My face immediately heats as my gaze lands on Feylin.
He’s wearing his usual—dark jeans, white button-down shirt. His eyes brim with emotion. And in his hands is a red rectangular box. I recognize it as the one from the fire ceremony.
My heart’s in my throat, taking up all the space so that I can’t speak. I wouldn’t know what to say, anyhow, so it’s a good thing when he talks first.
His beautiful full lips quirk slightly. “I’m sorry that I brought you here on false pretenses.”
“Ryals?”
He cocks his head toward the brook. Sure enough, there’s Ryals, knee-deep in the water, turning over rocks.
My chest loosens. “I’m glad he’s safe.” Feylin starts to say something, but I hold up my hand. “Wait. Whatever you’re going to say, there’s something that I need to say first.”
He nods, waiting. But of course the elaborate speech that I’d planned instantly vanishes from my head. I can’t remember one word of it, so it looks like I’ll be winging this.
Also, watching my fingers while I fidget with them seems like a great idea. “Thank you for giving my family back the bookshop. I—I understand why you shut it down. That doesn’t mean that I agree with it, but thank you for returning it to us.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I’m beginning to wonder whyhe’s even brought me here. But there’s still more to say in my mind somewhere, so I force it out.
“We spent a lot of time together, and I’m sorry about what happened at the fire ceremony. You didn’t listen to me then, and I don’t know if you’ll listen to me now, but I didn’t know about Tess dying in a book. My family didn’t tell me the whole story until I got home. If I’d known?—”
A swell of emotion hits me hard, and the words become a clot that jams up my throat. I manage to swallow past it and start again. “If I’d known what happened to her, I never would’ve given you that gift. It was Zandra. She gave it to me.”
“I know.”
I’ve been staring down this whole time because it’s impossible to look at someone while pouring your heart out. But when he says that, my gaze jump up.
He says it again. “I know that she fooled you.”
My heart, which has been beating as fast as a racehorse’s, somehow manages to accelerate. “Yes, but anyway, there are things that I never told you. I…I love you, Feylin.” His throat bobs when I say it. My palms sprout extra sweat. “I should’ve told you before, and maybe none of this would’ve happened. But I do love you, and I think I’ve loved you since we first met. When you took me to the tailor, I knew for sure, and I’m sorry that I never said it. I regret that I never did. It’s funny”—I run my fingers through my hair—“people think you’re coldhearted, but I know the truth. When you give short responses or narrow your eyes, I know that you’re trying to figure out if a thing is best for your subjects. I love how when something’s really funny to you, your eyes dance with laughter. I love that only a very few people, including me, know that you love a good joke, and that you have a sense of humor, and most of all, I love how you’re completely selfless. You put your entire kingdom before your own needs. And I love you for all of it. And my one regret is that I never told you, because if anyone deserves to know that they were loved, it’s you. Because you’ve had so much taken from you, that you need to hear how much you’re cared for.”
He rocks back on his heels and exhales a breath so deep that his shoulders fall. “If I hadn’t come here to do what I’m going to, that speech would’ve convinced me.”
I chuckle nervously, no clue what he means.
He steps forward and offers me his hand, which I take hesitantly. When my palm slips over his, I don’t expect to feel the same bite of power that the joining always provided, and I don’t. But there’s no denying that a different fissure of electricity has replaced what once was. It winds around my spine and grabs my heart in its clutches. It’s comforting yet also energizing.
