Page 89 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

“But it’s worth it,” Ceri said softly, a wistful look in her brown eyes.

“I think the point of all this is that you will figure it out,” Marsten said. “You’re married. It’s not like either of you are going anywhere, and from what Margaret’s told me, you two are getting along very well these days.”

I shot the painting a look, and she gave me a guilty smile. “You’re very loud.”

Niamh rested her hands on her belly. “You’ll say the words when you feel them.”

“What if I never feel them?” I asked. No one could give an answer to that. “I don’t even know what love feels like. No one taught me that.”

“No one taught me either,” Enid said. Vine rose up and jabbed her in the arm, and she glared at the green plant. “You ingrate. Okay, yes, you taught me to love.” She rolled her eyes. “Let me rephrase that: no one taught me how to be in love. I just knew I never wanted anyone by my side other than Nevan.”

“I know you don’t ever want to be chained again, beholden to anyone, but I think Lor has proven that he doesn’t want that either. I don’t think loving Lor is a path to enslavement,” Ceri said. “I think it might be a path to freedom if you open yourself up to it.”

I took a sip of my wine as the chatter continued, the conversation moving on to Niamh’s baby, to Enid’s healing business, to Ceri and Cillian’s plans to expand their little home behind the dress shop. To everything but the war on our doorstep that no one wanted to think about. I was only half-listening, thinking about Lor and love, and if I could ever reconcile the two if we survived all of this.

CHAPTER 48

Lor

“On guard, you scoundrel!” Sir Arthur waved his wooden sword in the air, and I frowned at the knight as I passed by him and toward the front doors of the castle.

Moonlight shone through the windows high above, motes of dust dancing in the blueish rays.

I stopped in front of the knight as he attempted to bend a leg, but he was too rusty, and he ended up stuck. “Sir Arthur, what are you doing?”

The knight straightened, his joints screeching in protest. “I’ve heard the rumors about the brotherhood closing in, and I’m preparing for a fight!” He jabbed his wooden sword forward.

“There won’t be any fighting tonight,” a voice said.

I turned to see Aoife at the top of the staircase, and my breath momentarily left my body. She wore a deep maroon dress that hugged her hips and dropped to her slippered feet. Her long dark hair flowed to her waist, and a golden crown hovered over her head, glittering, the same as the crown that hovered over my own head.

“Your Majesty.” Sir Arthur attempted to bow, but his armor just squeaked and protested.

“It’s all right, Sir Arthur.” She waved a hand as she descended the stairs, and I met her at the bottom.

I’d seen very little of her in the last week, something that she no doubt noticed. But I’d been busy planning. I held out my hand, and Aoife hesitated before placing hers in mine.

“What is this?” she asked. “Why did I get a note to meet you here wearing this dress?”

Sir Arthur poked his wooden sword between us. “Three steps back, Your Majesties.”

We both paused looking down at the barrier between us.

“I must insist. Last time you two stood in this foyer, I nearly lost my head when a stray plate got thrown my way.”

Aoife pressed her lips together, and I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face as she tried to hide her own.

“That seems like a lifetime ago,” I said.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“As a knight who only has Your Majesties best interest in mind, I will have to take extreme measures if you both do not step away from each other.”

So at least one person hadn’t heard all the gossip about me and Aoife.

I held up a hand. “It’s all right, Sir Arthur. There will be no plates thrown today. I’m just taking my queen on a walk.”

“A walk? In these times? With vagrants roaming about our mountaintop? Well, then I will come with you, guard you with my very life.”