Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill over.
His jaw flexed while he looked away from me and into the flames, taking the last sip of his wine. “Two turtledoves, it was called two turtledoves, his sandwich proof to her that he’d never leave her side, no matter what. Love. Devotion.”
“Wow.” I turned away and wiped a hot tear. “It must have been a great recipe.”
“It was grilled cheese.” He smiled over at me. “Because love,” he said in his journals. “Should always feel easy, just like grilled cheese. They died two days later on Christmas, his favorite holiday to celebrate with my mom.”
That’s why the King had wanted us married on Christmas.
I was his dove.
He wanted me, insignificant stuffy me, to be the King’s dove.
Sickness washed over me, would it have been so hard to ask this question and not just assume that I was just something else to acquire in the grand scheme of things within the crown?
Uncomfortable and feeling a giant gulp of guilt lodge in my throat, I quickly changed the subject. “My parents’ love was different. I’m envious. I was told to be seen, not heard, and I know that eventually they softened to each other, but I couldn’t imagine them making sandwiches at midnight. I had no idea the King and Queen were like that. I mean, I heard they snuck away often.”
He cackled out a laugh. “I’m sure they did.”
“But, how can you say you truly love someone when you can’t smile with them, when all you have is duty first, rules second, country third, and maybe if there’s enough energy for the rest, the best you can bank on is friendship and passion?”
“Doesn’t have to be like that.” He took my wine glass away from me and frowned, then wiped another tear from my cheek. I didn’t even realize I’d been crying for him, for me, for the future, for what lacked in my past. Memories like that. “Destiny is one thing, fate is something entirely different.”
“What do you mean?” I felt another tear coming, he was so close to my face, cupping my chin gently between his warm fingers. “It’s the same.”
“Destiny is where you’re headed. Fate is who you’re meant to do it with.”
I exhaled a shuddered breath. “I want to believe it.”
“It’s Christmas.” His smile was sexy, soft, his eyes darted to my lips, then back up to my eyes. I wanted him to kiss me so bad, instead with every gentleman fiber of his being he pulled back from me. “Sorry, that was probably too personal.”
I wanted more stories, I was about to say so when he stood and grabbed our wine glasses. “We should get some sleep so we can head out early in the morning.”
Why did my chest ache at that idea? “Let me help you clean up.”
“No, it’s okay.” His easy smile was back. “There should be some toothbrushes, new so you don’t get offended, some face wash, moisturizer, and a brush in there with a few hair ties left over. I can braid your hair if you want but—”
I stopped straight in my tracks. “I’m sorry, what?”
“B-braid your hair?” He frowned. “I’m sorry I have a little sister, I learned how to braid her hair at a young age when my mom got bad arthritis, so if you want me to braid it I can, so it’s not in your face.”
My mom never braided my hair.
My maid did.
I never had a sister.
“It’s fine.” I didn’t mean to snap it when I walked out of the room, nor did I mean to burst into tears when I got into the bathroom and turned on the water so he wouldn’t hear me or the tears of misjudgment and somewhat jealousy.
I started vigorously washing my face, wiping my mouth, wiping Frederick’s mouth from it, wishing I could wipe my words too. I’d been wrong, and I’d been proven wrong in less than a few hours of alone time with my fiancé.
When I was done, I brushed my teeth, swiped the hairbrush from the counter, and marched out. He was done and was taking off his sweater, it was halfway off the finest abs I’d ever seen in existence.
The brush dropped to the ground with a clash, just as all the power in the cabin went out.
Chapter Six
Zautland
I rushed over to her. “Are you okay?”
She wrapped her arms around me, brush forgotten. “I hate the dark, but we have the fire, we won’t freeze, right?”
We had enough firewood for at least two nights, but other than that, it wasn’t looking so great. I could chop some down, but we needed it to be dry. I had to believe they’d come searching for us immediately or I would have to go out and find some wood; we had enough kindling, and the wind hadn’t seemed too bad when we got there.