Page 132 of Winds of Ruin
“You say so. But no one is going to be happy to hear news of our marriage. It’s foolish to think anyone will see me as anything more than a blacksmith’s apprentice and a groundskeeper.”
His underlying concern was unfounded.
Emmerick believed us.
I took his hands and squeezed. “Your father sees your potential,” I reassured him. “And he will happily accept you.”
“I want to believe you,” he whispered against my cheek.
“Then, do,” I retorted before he ran a hand down my arm. The corners of his mouth pulled up.
Sources,I adored everything about him.
Every stubborn, out-of-place curl.
Every shade of blue that spiraled in his irises.
Every promise he made to me.
I’d face whatever consequences tonight if it meant I could hold him forever without hiding behind a closed door. His forehead rested against mine. “I’ll believe whatever you want me to if you keep looking at me like that, Lark.”
I smiled and broke away from him, only to cross the room and take the sheathed Sword of Isolde from a wardrobe where I’d stashed it.
Holding it out to him, I said, “I want you to have this.”
He looked reluctant but allowed me to place the blade in his palms. He stared down at it for a moment before he glanced at me. “It’s a relic, Lark. It should stay with you.”
I shrugged. “It was your father’s first. Plus, there is no way I would face Caym without you by my side... You should wield it. It feels right.”
A knock on my bedchamber door caused us both to jump.
“Princess?” Emmerick called from behind it. Dritan’s eyes flew wide open with uncertainty, and he shook his head, mouthing, “No, no, no.”
I went to greet our guest, as he dropped the sword down onto the footboard bench.
The two of them really couldn’t skirt one another forever—I hated to force their hands, but better now than in a ballroom full of nobles. My mother, as always, had overdone the guest list.
When I pulled open the door, Emmerick said, “Apologies for interrupting, Larkspur. Have you seen your aunt—”
His gaze trailed past me, as though Aunt El might be inside, and his mouth hung open after he spotted Dritan there.
“Hello,” Dritan said from behind me, smiling at the King with a weak wave of greeting.
I stepped aside. Both men nervously rubbed the backs of their necks.
“Hello, Dritan. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Emmerick said after regaining his composure. The weight of his stare squashed the air from the room as he assessed his son for the first time, in person.
Dritan nodded. “Likewise, King Mattock.”
“Emmerick, please,” he corrected. “To you, I’d prefer to be… not King Mattock.”
“That would be nice,” Dritan responded, looking all too much like a fish out of water. I stifled a chuckle as the prickle of pleasant discomfort washed over me. Both were so eager to understand the other without a clue what to say or do.
Watching these two fumble could entertain me for hours. But I’d save them. “Aunt El is on an errand for Mama. But we should discuss what we’re going to announce tonight.”
Emmerick hesitated, glancing between us with a hard swallow and a nod.
Dritan looked equally stiff, but I could see his shoulders relax and feel relief take hold of him.
