Page 81 of The Heir's Bargain

A group of children ran toward us, laughter filling their mouths and their attention lacking as they nearly ran into the queen. Esmeray, without blinking, moved to the side, smiling. As the children rounded the corner of the manor, their voices faded. The queen turned to one of the flower beds lining the paths. Different types of flowers in various vibrant shades of purple, pink, yellow, and orange filled the beds. Esmeray bent down, her lavender dress pooling at her feet and into the dirt.

Behind us, Airos made to step forward, but the queen stopped him with a lift of her hand. She brushed her fingers delicately across the sea of colors until she separated one from the rest.

"Dahlias were Marc's favorite flower," she said after a moment.

Fynn had told me that a month or so ago when we were strolling through the castle's gardens. Dahlias bloomed all over the castle's property with entire sections of the magnificent gardens dedicated solely to the flower. Here, the dahlias were sparse among the other brilliant blooms.

"They are beautiful," I said quietly.

"Indeed, but their beauty is not why my husband favored them of all the rest." Esmeray plucked the bloom with a quick snap of its stem and stood, a palm pressing against her thighs. Specks of dirt spotted her dress where her hand touched, but she didn't notice. She twisted the stem between her fingers, the pointed petals of the Dahlia spinning and melting into a sunset. "Do you know what dahlias signify, Danisinia?"

I pursed my lips, but none of my studies had ever revolved around flowers besides their medicinal and poisonous qualities. Neither of which were helpful in this situation.

"I cannot say that I do."

Esmeray smiled, still spinning the flower. "Dahlias represent a sort of inner strength, one that is not so easily shaken by external conditions." She sighed, stilling the vibrant flower. "Before we were engaged and found out we were soul bonds, Marc never pictured himself having a prestigious title. While he was set to inherit his father's title of lord, he had always planned on surrendering it to his sister, Marsella. Marc did not enjoy all the pomp and circumstance that came with bearing a title. When he discovered that our fathers had arranged for us to be married, he was outraged."

"He was?"

Esmeray nodded, amusement flashing across her eyes as she recalled the memory. "So much so that he even ran."

"Were you upset?"

The queen laughed, loud and unrestrained. "Upset? Oh no. Not at all. How could I be upset when I had done the same thing?"

"You ran away? The boys never mentioned?—"

Esmeray waved a hand and interrupted, "Those boys only listen to half the things I tell them." She brought the flower to her nose and sniffed. "Then again, I never told them that particular part of the story."

"Why not?"

"Could you imagine how often Fynn or Graeson would have used that against me growing up? As unfair as it may be, we live in a different world now than we did then." Sighing, she continued, "Anyway, that is not the point of this story. When Marc and I finally came to terms with our arrangement, he still fought the title of King Consort."

"I had always heard he wore the crown well."

"He did indeed, but that does not mean he always enjoyed sacrificing his personal time for the sake of the crown."

Guilt rose in my throat, and sweat licked my palms. "Your Highness, I apologize for?—"

Esmeray raised a hand, silencing me. "You do not need to explain yourself to me, Danisinia. While you may have been late, you showed up when you were needed. That is what matters."

I bit down on my tongue.

She swiped a hand down her dress, finally brushing off the dirt. "I do not tell you this because I believe you must follow in my late husband's footsteps. You've always been career-driven, and I deeply admire that about you. Truth be told, it's one of the many reasons I was thankful when you first started studying and training with my sons. It was my selfish hope that some of that would rub off onto them, Fynneares especially. He can be so. . ."

Amusement wrinkled the corner of my eyes when the queen’s words fell off. "Heedless?" I suggested.

"And then some." The queen chuckled softly as if recalling another memory. "Now, Danisinia, do not take offense by what I say next."

I nodded, although a sourness filled my stomach as nerves tingled my fingertips.

"At first, I was unsure if this courtship between you was any different from Fynneares' last ones. But after seeing the two of you together tonight, I cannot help but think it is different."

My lips parted, the guilt rising too high to keep restrained, but Esmeray continued before I could speak.

"Fynneares is like his father in more ways than he realizes. And for that, I am thankful that he has you standing beside him."

I took a deep breath and met the queen with an even gaze. "If I may be frank, Esmeray?"

---