Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Which is what?” I ask.
He swallows. “That they know very well that it wouldn’t work, but they prefer to have you be the object of any political ire rather than their king.” He slaps the rail. “Lunacy either way.”
“Do you think King Ronan wants to marry me?” I ask in a squeak.
Misha cocks a brow at me. “King Ronan, huh? Are you practicing for your day at court now?” He huffs out a breath. “In truth, I think he’s still in love with your sister.”
“But she’s bonded to Finnian.”
“Of course, and we all know that’s never going to change so long as they both live, but what he felt for your sister? That kind of love doesn’t fade so easily.”
I’m reeling. If Hale knew the depth of the connection between the courts’ rulers, he would’ve found a way to send me to the Court of the Sun instead of the Wild Fae Lands. I have no doubt the queen would’ve allowed her sister to spend this time there instead, had she—had I—asked. I’m glad that I’m standing here instead.
“Would you . . .” He turns and studies my face, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch. “Politics aside, would you want that? A marriage to the Seelie king? A life as queen to the Court of the Sun?”
It’s always dangerous territory when I have to answer questions of the heart as if I’m Jasalyn, but Misha isn’t asking what Princess Jas, the girl he knew before, thinks of this. He’s asking about me. Maybe I’m fooling myself to believe there’s a difference. Maybe my deception is all the worse for it, but I dismiss any thought of how Jas would answer and answer for myself. “No. I wouldn’t want that.”
Misha looks down at our hands next to each other on the railing and moves his pinkie finger to rub against mine. “Am I selfish to want to keep you here?”
“Am I selfish to want to stay?” I ask, and my breath catches on the swell of emotions in my throat. I wish I could hide away here forever. I wish I didn’t have to face the horrors that await me in Elora. I miss my family, but so long as Erith lives, I will never be able to return to my life as I knew it.
Misha’s face falls, and he pulls me into his arms. I don’t try to stop him. I curl into his chest and breathe him in. He smells like clean pine and a new day, and with his warmth against my cheek, I don’t feel so scared of what the future brings.
He rests his chin on my head and toys with the baby hairs on the back of my neck. “You can stay as long as you want. As long as this kingdom is mine, you’ll always have a place here.”
I close my eyes and flatten my palm against his chest. “Your new wife may feel differently.”
He grunts. “I’m in no rush to find a new wife, Jas.”
At the sound of that name and the reminder of what I’m doing here, I push away and straighten. “You need an heir, and you’re not getting any younger.”
He smirks. “Well, I am very old.”
Laughing, I look up at him through my lashes.
His expression goes serious as he studies my face. “I can’t decide if I love or hate that you won’t let me into your mind.”
My smile falls away. “Misha . . .”
“I understand,” he says, settling a hand over mine on the railing. “And I respect it. But since I can’t poke around and figure it out for myself, tell me what you think about tonight—about the ball. About the pomp and circumstance of it all.”
I arch a brow. “That’s what you’d want to know if you could get in my mind?”
“Not really.” His gaze dips to my mouth and holds for long enough that I feel breathless. “If I could choose, I’d want to know if you thought about me after I left your chambers last night, and what, exactly, those thoughts entailed.” The corner of his mouth lifts into a roguish smile. “But I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
My cheeks are burning now, and I want him to kiss me so much that my heart aches. Want it so much that my lips tingle. I have to focus on taking my next breath. “The ball is beautiful.” I give a coy smile. “As are all your guests.”
He gives a grunt that is half laugh, half begrudging agreement. “It’s a spectacle. My court isn’t as regimented as the Court of the Sun and the Court of the Moon, but the people want to see that I’m at least looking for a queen.”
“Perhaps you should be in there, letting them see you look,” I say, finding my gaze on his mouth this time.