Page 113 of The Heir's Bargain

The day before dinner with the leaders, I had almost forgone going to the tavern. Moris and Sylvia, however, had insisted.

There were only ten of us left whom the leaders were deciding between, and tomorrow, the leaders would finally make their choice. All three of us had made it to the final ten soldiers. Moris wanted to celebrate that; Sylvia had other intentions, though. Going to the tavern seemed like the last thing I should have been doing. And perhaps I should have listened to the creeping sensation crawling up my neck, but I didn't.

Before we could even wrap our hands around a pint of ale, Sylvia pulled us to the dance floor, where the truth came out. Last week, Sylvia had started talking to the band’s singer, who was a gorgeous woman with flowing ebony hair and dark brown skin. While Sylvia gawked at the singer, Moris, Fynn, and I were all forced to dance.

After three or four dances, Fynn and I managed to sneak away to our table.

"How was training?" Fynn asked as I sat down beside him.

"Good," I said, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

Fynn pulled back. "Just good? Because you seem more chipper than usual."

I shrugged. "I'm in a good mood, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I bit my lip. As much as I was delighted to be one of the last ten, I shook my head. "Not yet," I said.

Fynn's eyes enlarged. "Have you heard something about the promotion?" he whispered as Sylvia and Moris continued dancing.

Some of the excitement dwindled, but I kept the smile on my face. "Not yet, but I have a good feeling."

He arched a brow but didn't push the topic any further.

I wasn't purposely keeping anything a secret from him. However, I was too close to being selected for this mission. I did not doubt that leaders believed our courtship was real. Despite the reasoning my father had given me months ago, a successful courtship would not be enough to secure the promotion. Nor did I wish to let my relationship status dictate my career.

I needed to be chosen for this mission because of who I was, not because of who Fynn was. I didn’t want him to try to sway my father and the generals if he found out about it.

After an hour, I had called it a night after a wave of exhaustion had swept over me.

Outside, Fynn leaned against the post of the stables across the street. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Ferrios?" Fynn asked.

I sighed. "I told you, you don't have to?—"

Fynn grabbed my waist, pressing his lips against mine. His lips were soft and warm against mine.

No matter how many times Fynn kissed me, each time left me more breathless than the last.

He leaned back, his arms still wrapped around me. "If you tell me I do not have to come to the dinner tomorrow one more time?—"

"You'll what? Hmm?" I narrowed my eyes, but the wide grin splitting across my face betrayed me.

If the past week had shown me anything, I had nothing to worry about when it came to my relationship with Fynn. Knowing Fynn would be by my side tomorrow night, not as my pretend suitor but as something more than a friend, tamed most of the uneasiness I had felt last week.

I had yet to tell my mother that Fynn would be attending dinner, which was a whole other reason to be nervous. Although my mother had known Fynn for his entire life, she acted as if she had never seen him running around the castle at age five, wearing a helmet that was too big for his head and wielding a wooden sword. When it came to the royal family though, none of that mattered to her. If I told my mother too soon, she would change the entire menu to make it more ostentatious.

Fynn brushed a finger across my lips, scraping his teeth on his bottom lip. "Honestly, Ferrios, I don't know, but I'm sure I could think of something." His gaze dipped down my body, sending heat up to my cheeks. "Give me a few minutes and a storage closet, and you'll regret those words in no time."

I chuckled. "Not tonight."

"If you say so," he said with a wink.

I poked him in the chest. "I'm serious. I have?—"

"Training in the morning," he said, interrupting me in mockery. I probably had said that exact statement numerous times throughout the night.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked toward the horses. "Can I at least ride with you home?"

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