Page 105 of The Heir's Bargain

My lips parted, but no words came out. I had no answer to give her.

My mother shook her head. "That is precisely why I am telling you this. I know how much he means to you, but Queen Esmeray has also told me how much the Crown Prince wishes to find his other half." Pain coated her eyes as she squeezed my hand. "Not everyone meets their soul bond, but what will happen if he does?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "If that happens, then so be it."

My mother sighed. "I do not wish for your heart to be broken, Danisinia. When you love, you love fiercely. But the prince. . .he only loves himself."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head and giving her my back.

My mother may have thought she had good intentions, but her words were only knives to my heart.

One after another.

My mother exhaled, and footsteps snapped against the hardwood floors. The door creaked open. Nails tapped along the wooden frame. "I'm only trying to look out for you," she said to my back.

I didn't move until I heard the door click and her footsteps fade down the hallway.

Even then, I stared at the heap of metal strewn across my floor. In the far corner of my room, swords and throwing knives hung on the wall, and a bare mannequin sat in the corner.

My gaze fell to the purple ranunculuses. I lifted a flower from the bouquet and twisted it between two fingers as I sniffed it.

My mother thought I didn't know who Fynn was. That I didn't know he liked to lead on the women he courted. That he never took his relationships seriously. But Fynn was my best friend. I knew who he was. I knew how his relationships had worked out in the past. I had heard all about his escapades since he started courting women years ago. I had witnessed the failed dates and the slaps he received after he had ended the courtships with various women.

Looking down at the flowers, I plucked the card from the bouquet and scanned the message written across it.

"Roses would have been predictable, and you are anything but predictable, Danisinia Ferrios."

Fynn might not have been King of Pontia yet, but he was the king of breaking hearts. And I couldn't help but wonder if he would break mine, too.

Music and chatter filled The Splintered-Oar as my knee shook beneath the worn table sticky with spilled ale.

Despite the run earlier, my body still buzzed with energy. Sylvia had thought it was from excitement, and I supposed some of it was. But most of it resulted from the man sitting next to me.

Fynn had arrived nearly an hour ago with a wide grin and hair wind-blown after riding on horseback from the castle. He was devastatingly handsome.

Yet when he tried to kiss me upon arriving, I moved, giving him a hug instead. The whole exchange was. . .awkward.

It was just so different, even compared to how we were when we were pretending to court one another.

So, I tried to focus on the things that were normal: Moris being the first to get sloshed, Sylvia's playful jabs, Moris losing against Fynn at cards. Still, everything that was different stuck out like a deer wandering a village.

How Fynn no longer squirmed when he drank ale.

How a part of him was always touching me.

How the bench simultaneously felt too small and too big.

How I still felt like I should have been sitting closer to the wall, hiding my feelings, rather than nestled in the crook of Fynn's side.

How my palms were sweaty beneath the table.

But despite my sweat-slicked palms, I wanted to scoot closer to Fynn and let his calmness envelop me like a sweet caress.

At least when we were pretending, my heart was still protected, hidden beneath a shield of armor. Fynn, however, had stripped me of that armor with graceful fingers, and now, his fingers were wrapped around my heart.

While I trusted Fynn, I didn't trust anyone with something so fragile.

I feared what he would do—what he could do with my heart in his palms. One squeeze too hard and it would burst.

---