“You missed a spot,” Riyan said. He reached over and swiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb. I caught a glimpse of the red jam on the tip of his thumb before it disappeared intohis mouth.
I raised my eyebrows. “Did youreally just—?”
“I don’t waste elskaberry jam,”Riyan interjected.
I rolled my eyes but still cracked a smile as Riyan reached into the basket again. Instead of another bun, he pulled out a leather-bound book with fadedgold script.
Riyan smiled with disbelief. “I can’t believe Grandmother snuck this in here.” He held up the book to show me the cover—a gilded silhouette of a winged faerie stamped into the leather. I smiled, we had the same faerie book at Ravenwood Manor. Riyan opened the book and flipped through the yellowed andworn pages.
“Grandmother used to read this to me every night before I was sent away,” Riyan said. He flipped a page and his eyes lit up. He turned the book toward me. “Look! My favorite—Prince Haldar andthe Giant!”
His finger pressed on an illustration of a black-haired prince with his sword aloft as he rode on the back of a white wolf to slay the giant terrorizinghis kingdom.
“Of course that one was your favorite,” I said. “Very prophetic, Heroof Lycaster.”
“It’s every boy’s favorite!” Riyan said with a smile as he flipped through the pages. “Prince Haldar has a magic sword and a talking wolf! The giant took his princess and kept her in chains to force her to be his bride, but Prince Haldar would never let that happen. So he rescues her from the monster thatstole his…”
He trailed off as he looked down at the book. Maybe he was not much like his childhood heroafter all.
Time to changethe subject.
I gently took the book from his hand and flipped the pages until I found the illustration of a blonde faerie princess with flowers in her hair. She sat on top of a glass hill and tossed a golden apple to her true love, the dark-haired prince riding up the hill on hismagic horse.
“The Princess on the Glass Hillwas my favorite story,” I said witha smile.
“The one where the princess chucks golden apples at the prince because she wanted to marry him?” Riyan asked with a scoff. “Ridiculous. Why would you likethat one?”
I pursed my lips. “Because she got to choose whoshe married.”
Riyan’s chin dipped to his chest and he swallowed. He looked out to the meadow and took in a quiet breath. Guilt flickered through his eyes just like when we had sat in theDuke’s garden.
I ran my hands along the leather cover of the faerie book. I had been so angry with Riyan for choosing me and destroying the life I had yearned for, but as I sat in the peaceful meadow with a belly full of elskaberry buns, I could not feelangry anymore.
And if I was no longer angry, I did not want Riyan to still feel guilty. Especially onhis birthday.
I let out a breath. “I cannot blame you for choosing me. If I had the power to choose who I married, I would have picked the person Iwanted too.”
Riyan glanced at me and gave me a rueful half-smile. “And the person you wantedwasn’t me.”
I swallowed. True, but dwelling on that fact would make nothing better. Before I could think of anything clever to try to cheer him up, Riyan reached into the meadow and gently plucked one of the lilies from the grass. He placed the small flower on the crown of my head and worked the stem intomy braid.
“What are you doing?”I laughed.
His cheeks rose with his smile. “Making you look like the faerie princess inthe story.”
He added flowers into my hair until he filled my braid with Bloodstone lilies. When he finished, he pressed his palms into the grass and leaned back to admire his work. A warm tingle crept up my neck and spread to my cheeks as he looked down at me. I looked away into the meadow, but he caught my chin with the side of his hand and turned me back toface him.
Riyan held my chin between his knuckle and thumb. I was frozen in place as his eyes gleamed with the same desire he had thenight before.
“Don’t you hide from me,” he said in a low voice. “Not when you’re the most beautiful flower inthe meadow.”
My heart pounded. Without taking his eyes off me, Riyan took my right hand into his and brought it up to his lips. I shivered as his soft lips kissed my skin again. He smirked and lowered my hand back into my lap and placed it on top ofthe book.
“Would you toss me a golden apple, princess?” he asked. “It’s my birthday,after all.”
He was not clever enough to fool me. The question was a plea disguised as roleplay—if I suddenly had the power to choose who I married, would I choose him? If I had the chance to know him as the person beyond the Beast, the Hero of Lycaster, or the Bloodstone heir, would I have happily married himover Derrick?
My first instinct was to lie and tell him I would choose him, but the warm light in my chest stopped me. Truthfully, I did not know if the warmth and comfort I felt with Riyan would have been strong enough to overcome my desperate desire forthe crown.
