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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“It’s just a flower. Flowers don’t play games.”
“Of all the things I pretend at,” he said, his thumb drawing small, gentle circles along my waist, “courting you has proven the easiest.”
My aunt had told me once that my strange charcoal eyes were special, beautiful even—a dark window to the soul beneath.
The Prince shrugged, his green eyes lingering on Ione’s shape in the distance. “Hauth broke your wrist, Ravyn mangled his hand. Balance.”
It had taken Ravyn Yew, Captain of the Destriers, my supposed natural enemy, to make me realize what I truly, deeply wanted. To stop pretending.
“It is not they who bring the reckoning, Ravyn. It is you. It is us.”
“You were gone when I woke up.” I leaned into him. “I wanted to let you rest.” He kissed me, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. “I don’t want rest, Elspeth,” he murmured into my lips. “I want you.”
Emory peered at us through the willow’s branches, his lips curled in a mischievous grin. “Found them,” he called to Elm. “They were kissing.”
“Here I was, thinking she’d come to kiss me. That’s how the fairy tale goes, isn’t it? Beautiful maiden saves sick boy with a kiss—boy miraculously heals and delivers the kingdom from dark magic.”
“Are you still pretending?” I said, reveling in his gaze. Ravyn gave a surprised laugh and, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed me. “I never was,” he whispered into my lips.
