We caught up with Nuwin too and enjoyed several nights out at their local salopas. The royal prince was just as cheeky and coquettish as he’d been the first time, and it only took half a dozen threats from Kole before he finally stopped flirting with me.
But finally, everything felt calm. Peaceful. Right.
And as Kole’s break from the Imperial Council drew to an end, and Kole planned to return to his work, I knew that Kole’s ability to mistphase meant he could return to me every night for the foreseeable future, if he wasn’t in an area where they needed him at all hours. So while I didn’t relish the thought of being parted from him for days, or even weeks on occasion, I knew that we would make it work.
But there was still one large problem that we hadn’t addressed yet.
The reality of my future, as a princess of Mistvale Kingdom, hadn’t disappeared.
Just because we were mated didn’t stop the fact that I was a royal, and that during my hundredth summer, I needed to marry asuitablemale of royal or noble standing.
And no matter how much I loved Kole and felt devoted to him, he would never be of a bloodline that my parents insisted on.
On the lastnight Kole and I had together, we ventured hand in hand to my parents’ private sitting area. Kole had to report to duty the next day, and while I knew that we had many,manysummers until the vile need to marry another was bestowed upon me, I didn’t want him leaving with this still hanging over our heads.
I wanted to marry Kole.
I wanted to marry my mate.
Now. Tomorrow. The day after that. I didn’t care when, but the only one I wanted to be joined with was the male at my side.
My parents were sitting in front of their fireplace when we entered, and my mother smiled broadly and jumped up to greet us. However, once she saw that my usual laugh and teasing grin were absent, her lips downturned.
“Stars, has something happened?” She cast an anxious glance at my father.
“No, nothing like that,” I said in a rush, “but Kole and I want to discuss something with you.”
We both sat on the couch. For once, Kole had taken his sword off and left it in my bedroom chambers. I’d teased him about always wearing his sword mercilessly the first few days ofour mating holiday, and his response had been to show me an additional dagger he also kept hidden underneath his tunic. Of course, his face had been entirely devoid of emotion, but his eyes had sparkled with amusement when I burst into a fit of giggles.
“You’re both looking quite serious,” my father commented. “And while I’ve come to know that’s your usual expression, Kole. For you, Primelle, that has me exceedingly worried.”
I forced a fake smile and hoped that if I infused myself with enough positive energy, they would heed my plea.
I licked my lips and replied, “It’s about my future. About what you expect of me at a hundred summers.” I grasped Kole’s hand tightly, and his palm warmed against mine.
“Primelle and I wish to marry,” he added. “It doesn’t need to be soon, but that is our wish. However, we need your permission.”
He didn’t say more. He didn’t need to. That simple statement made our desires clear, and my parents would have to choose—force both of us to be miserable if requiring me to marry another or grant me a pardon from my royal duty.
My mother’s mouth pinched together, and her brow furrowed. In a gentle voice, she replied, “We’ve talked about this, Primelle. You know what’s expected of you, but we would never take Kole away from you. All we ask is that you remain discreet when that time comes for you to marry one of a royal or noble background.”
The backs of my eyes began to burn with hot tears, and along our mating bond, Kole’s quiet, possessive fury began to strum toward me.
“I won’t share her,” he said, his tone firm and unyielding. “Surely, you can understand that.”
My father and mother shared another look, and my father opened his mouth to speak, but I cut in.
“Please, before you insist on this, think of what you’re saying,” I said, tears thick in my voice. “Both you and the king’s council have spoken repeatedly of how important it is for fae to have free will. My entire life has beenbased upon that belief. You banished me from this kingdom to respect the free will of others. You bestowed Timith and Gwenery with the burden of raising a powerful child, all so that they could teach me to respect the need to allow others’ free will. An entirely evil plot was created by your very brother with me at the center, all so he could control fae’s free will. Yet, in all of this,in all that’s taken place, has anyone ever consideredmyfree will?”
I paused, letting my words sink in. Both of their eyes widened, but before either could speak, I continued. “I’ve proven time and time again that I will never exact my magic on those around me, not if I’m in control of it, so now, all I’m asking is for the same courtesy. Givemefree will. Letmechoose how I want to lead my life. Givemethe same courtesy and respect that you’ve given countless others. Please. That’s all I ask. Just give me the one thing that I’ve spent my life ensuring I give to everyone else around me.”
My mother and father were both silent. They again exchanged one of their weighted looks, and I held my breath. Kole’s hand wrapped even tighter around mine, and we both waited for their answer.
It seemed to take forever before my father finally said, “She’s right, Oleander. Especially after all she’s endured, I don’t have the heart to take this one request from her, not after her entire existence has been exactly as she’s stated—allowing others free will and respecting their individual choices. She deserves that too. If nothing else, for all of the pain and suffering she’s endured, we should grant her this one wish even though that’s never been done before.”
My mother’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she grinned broadly. “I was hoping you would say that.”
I jumped up from the couch, Kole joining me, and a burst of laughter spilled from my lips as my mate lifted me in a giant hug.
