Page 103 of The Heir's Bargain

I furrowed my brows. "I'm not avoiding anything."

"Are you sure about that?"

I looked toward the east, where the castle’s spires pierced through the clouds.

Was I avoiding him? If I was, I wasn't doing it intentionally.

Perhaps that only made it worse, though.

My mouth flattened. I turned around, but Sylvia had already walked away.

Sylvia was wrong.

I wasn't avoiding him. I was busy.

Turning away from the castle, I ran another mile.

Sweat stuck to my skin beneath the layers of fabric and light armor. My muscles were aching, which meant the next two days would be excruciating once the real soreness settled in. The run had settled some of my nerves but not all of them.

It was half past noon, and all I wanted was a long nap before meeting everyone at the tavern. I tugged on the end of the ribbon and brushed my hair with my fingers, detangling the knots as I turned into my room. My hands dropped as I stared at the petite woman near my vanity.

"Mother, what are you doing in here?"

My mother clicked her tongue and continued to arrange a fresh bouquet of three dozen purple and white ranunculuses inside a crystal vase. "And your father says you're one of the brightest soldiers of your generation. What does it look like I'm doing, Danisinia? You're not going to arrange these."

I unbuckled my short sword from my waistband and sat it against the wall. "Did you. . .did you get me flowers?"

"Me?" My mother scoffed. "Of course not. I have much better things to do with my time."

My hand froze on the throwing knives tucked into my corset. "Then who did?"

"The prince."

"Fynn?"

My mother nodded, humming. "Are there multiple princes that you are courting, Danisinia?"

With a roll of my eyes, I started removing the knives that covered my torso.

"Give me one of those," my mother said, snapping her fingers.

"What for?" I asked as I held the last knife to my chest, twisting it between my fingers.

She had barely looked up from the flowers since I had walked into my room, and a small vein protruded from her forehead. The one that only ever appeared when she was stewing.

She snapped her fingers again.

With a sigh, I joined her at the vanity, preparing for whatever storm was about to come.

When I handed her the knife with the handle out, she scoffed as she snatched it from my fingers. She began snipping the ends of the stems with the blade held at a diagonal angle.

"Some things need extra attention if you want them to last as long as possible."

Snip. Snip.

The vein in the middle of her forehead throbbed, and I narrowed my eyes at her. I had a strange inclination that she wasn't talking about the flowers, but I wasn't foolish enough to ask her to confirm.

I removed the pieces of light armor strap-by-strap. The metal clanged as it hit the hardwood floors.

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