I let go of his arm and backed off as he fumed. His jaw was tight and his eyes vibrated as hestared forward.
“Riyan?” I quietlycalled out.
He did not answer. He stayed still and unresponsive like he was not even inthe room.
I bit my tongue and looked down at his tight fists in the blankets. Riyan had already broken his bed—I did not want to know what else he would break if he flew intoanother rage.
I thought of the last time I gave Riyan a small comfort and got an idea. I turned from Riyan and reached down to the floor to grab his discarded shirt from the night before. I shook off the invisible shards of broken glass and pulled the shirt intomy lap.
I carefully placed my hand on top of his white knuckles and he released his grip on the blankets as he came back to me. I slid my hand into his and laid the sleeve of his shirt in his palm so he could see the flowers I had embroideredfor him.
Riyan took a breath and looked down atthe sleeve.
I traced the stitching of one flower with my index finger. “When you are afraid, look forthe flowers.”
“What is that supposed to do?”he asked.
“Calm you down,” I replied. “Find your flowers instead ofyour rage.”
Riyan gently brushed his fingers over the flowers. His chest and arms relaxed as he let out a slow breath. “Did you enchant the flowersor something?”
“Yes,”I lied.
The light was back in Riyan’s mischievous eyes. “You know the Duke made sorceryillegal, right?”
“I thought we established that Duke Hyton does not own me,” I replied witha smirk.
Riyan plucked a crumpled and dry lily petal from my braid. He gently tapped the petal on the tip of my nose. “No one can own you,faerie princess.”
Just as I thought he was going to pick more flower petals out of my frayed braid, he instead traced the curve of my cheekbone. I could not helpbut smile.
Days ago, Riyan said he chose me because I saw him. I had no idea what he meant then, but I finally understood—I sawhis suffering.
Riyan just wanted a small reprieve from his life of torment—even if it was just a spoonful of jam, a kiss on the cheek, or a mended shirt. If all he asked from me was relief from the constant misery, I would give itto him.
Riyan smiled back at me. “Can Ibe selfish?”
I quirked aneyebrow. “How?”
His thumb trailed down to rest just below my chin. “Kissme again.”
My eyelashes fluttered down to my cheeks as he gently tilted my chin up. When our lips met, I led him into a dream instead of a nightmare.
A dream where nogiants existed.
Hilda was spoon-feeding Astrid porridge at the dining table when I joined them for breakfast. Riyan had left the fortress to gather flowers for his mother so I could get ready for the reunion. I had stuffed my letters to Brietta and Annalisa in my pocket, but abandoned the Hyton dagger under my pillow again. Even though Riyan had lost control and nearly killed me, I did not want to carryit anymore.
What had constantly seeking protection really given me? Imprisoning myself behind stone and iron did not protect me from pain, but instead kept me from knowing sweetness, joy,or warmth.
Derrick’s protection was not worththat sacrifice.
Hilda held up a spoonful of goopy porridge near her daughter’s mouth. “Eat up, apple blossom, today is a big day! You finally get to seeyour boy!”
Astrid slowly and absent-mindedly ate her porridge. The blooms in her flower crown were wilted and mashed and she sat in a kind of chair I had never seen before—a chair with wheels instead of legs. Her wheeled chair replaced the bear throne at the head of the table. I sat on the bench across from Hilda, but Astrid did not evennotice me.
Hilda tried to introduce me to Astrid after she had finished her mouthful of porridge. “Astrid, this is Serafina, she is a new friend who liveswith us.”
“Nice to meet you, Astrid,” Isaid gently.
