Page 47 of The Heir's Bargain

"We'll get her back, Fynn," I whispered.

Fynn sheathed his sword, his gaze fixed on the ground. "It's been fifteen years. Who knows if she's even the same person she was before she was taken?"

My hand wrapped around his. The gesture was not forced or hidden behind some pretense like the other night but rather from years of friendship. "The Nadareans are fighters, remember? She's stronger than you think."

"Historically speaking," he mumbled, "we're rulers, not fighters."

"Fynn, there are different kinds of warriors. One does not need to wear a uniform or carry a sword to be deemed a fighter."

Fynn's gaze met mine at last, and a small smile rose to his lips.

Moments like these, when I saw the real Fynn—the man who cared deeply, never gave up on his friends and family, and wanted to fix the world—it was hard not to let old feelings rise. This version of him was so rare that I often forgot it existed in the first place. But as the shadows spread across his face, I couldn't help but think that this quiet, reserved version of the prince was my favorite. Because when he showed this side of himself, there were no pretenses or masks.

But then Fynn took a step back, and the normal Fynn reappeared. Whatever old feelings that had been stirred up in the previous moment vanished.

"It's been a long day," he said.

I squinted at the sun as it beamed down on us. "It's barely even past noon."

Fynn rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's been a long morning, all right?"

I snorted.

And this was the future king of our kingdom, I thought to myself after having made sure my mental shields were up.

"The point is I have things to do, so if you don't mind. . ."

"Fine," I mumbled, only half listening now, my thoughts elsewhere.

Maybe Fynn needed this fake courtship as much as I needed it.

"Dani?" Fynn asked.

"Huh?" I asked, blinking away the previous concerns that occupied my mind.

"I asked if you knew what event we should attend next?"

"Oh, right," I said, nodding my head.

Recognizing the hesitancy filling my voice, Fynn sighed. "What is it?"

I pursed my lips, shaking my head and dragging my attention away from him. "Nothing. It's silly."

His shoulders sagged. He grabbed my arm and tugged, forcing me to face him. My muscles beneath his fingers flexed, and he dropped my hand.

"All right, but before you say no, hear me out."

His gaze narrowed. "One date, and you already want to change the plan, Ferrios?"

I kicked the dirt. "Sometimes strategies must be adjusted."

"Out with it then, Ferrios."

The words spilled out in a rush. "I think we need to show the leaders that we are more serious about this—this relationship. I think we need to court each other properly."

"What do you mean?" he asked, brows arching.

Shrugging, I picked up one of the swords hanging from the rack and tested its balance. I recognized Xander's work immediately—the beauty in the craftsmanship. "Casual walks through the village, dinners. You know, whatever one does when people are courting one another."

---