Ayden nodded. “I’ve thought about this. I’ll bring you in the back, clear a path. No one will touch you, I swear it.” He held a fist over his heart as some form of allegiance and I smiled.
“We’re going!” Eden told him and lightly bumped my hip.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Now I just had to convince my father.
ELEVEN
Ayden was the most patient tutor I’d ever had. Well, he was the only tutor I’d ever had, but he had a lot more tolerance than Sorrel. When I stuttered or struggled to say the really big words, he just nodded with encouragement and helped me sound them out. I was embarrassed that the prince of The Gilded City was my tutor for the first half hour and then I got over it. It was Ayden. Sweet Ayden, loyal Ayden. We got along so well it wasn’t weird, and I genuinely considered him a friend. Yanric liked him too, which was rare. He only liked three people in the entire realm: Eden, my father, and Ayden.
“Great job!” he encouraged after I finished the chapter for Fae History class homework.
I attempted to keep myself from blushing but was pretty sure I failed.
“Okay, now go grab something to read for fun,” he told me as we sat across from each other in the back of the school library.
“Fun?” I questioned, raising what I hoped was just one eyebrow.
His perfect lips pulled into a perfect smile and he leaned forward, “Yes Fallon, some crazy people out there read for fun.”
He wasn’t flirting with me, right?
‘He sure is,’Yanric confirmed from his perch on the shelf next to me.
“All right, be right back.” I stood and rushed away from the table, my mind spinning with confusion.
No way was he flirting with me. It was Ayden! Yanric just liked him and wanted that to be true.
‘To be honest, denial suits you,’Yanric replied as I rushed down the first aisle I could and ran smack dab into someone’s chest.
I braced for the pain until I realized it was Ariyon.
He reached out to steady me, grasping my bare upper arms, and when he saw it was me, he didn’t immediately recoil as I expected.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I said, going for humor. I was still on a mission to make this man smile.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then finally released me. Reaching out, his fingers stilled over my face and my breath caught. He pulled something off of my cheek and I swallowed hard, trying to will my erratic heart to calm the fae down. He was a healer, there was no way he didn’t hear my heartbeat louder than a war drum.
“Eyelash,” he said, and blew on his fingers, the breath washing over my face.
A moan threatened to escape my throat but I cleared it to cover the sound. “I’m supposed to be finding a book to read for fun.”
Why was he still standing here, so close? Why wasn’t he being his normal mean self?
He watched me quizzically as if observing a specimen. “What books did your father read to you growing up? Maybe try one of those. I love the childhood classics.”
It was a sweet suggestion, one I would have expected from his brother.
“My father never learned to read,” I told him without shame. He was a hard worker and provided for our family; so he wasn’t book smart, who cared about that.
Ariyon blanched at my words, like maybe he didn’t know there were people out there in the realm who didn’t know how to read at all.
“Come here,” he said and then turned and walked at a brisk pace deeper into the aisle, which forced me to follow him. I made it to the very back and found a small floor pillow with an open notebook.
“That yours?” I asked.
He nodded. “Song writing.”
