Page 83 of The Heir's Bargain

"I know it is, and I don't want her to continue hiding from those memories. But when she compares me to him, it feels like I'm disappointing her." His hand grazed the grass. He plucked a single blade. After inspecting it briefly, he discarded it. He repeated the process, ripping blades of grass from the soil, his brows twisting. "I'm not him. I'm not even close," he mumbled.

"King Marc was a wonderful man, Fynn. He was a great leader, a great friend, a great father and husband." My hand landed on his hand, stilling it. "But you will be, too."

Fynn was quiet for a moment as he stared at the ground. After a moment, he dragged his attention up to meet my gaze. Disbelief was written in his brown eyes. "How do you know?"

I squeezed his hand. "Because you care."

His fingers twitched beneath my palm, but he didn't move away. "So?"

"People who don't care don't put in the effort you do."

His shoulders dropped, and he faced the sea.

"Can I give you some friendly advice?" I asked.

Fynn tilted his head toward me slightly. "Only if it's friendly, Ferrios." He winked, his classic smirk returning. Yet neither his gaze nor the quirk of his lip held any of its usual cockiness. Instead, when I looked at Fynn, I only saw a sad prince trying to make everyone but himself happy.

"Stop trying to be your father. You're not him."

He turned his gaze back toward the sea. "This doesn't sound too friendly."

He went to pull his hand away, but I tightened my grip around it.

"I'm not finished," I said. "You're Fynneares Andros Nadarean—being you is more than enough. You might have been born twenty minutes before Terin?—"

"Ten minutes, actually," Fynn said, interrupting.

I rolled my eyes with a tsk. "But that's not why you were named heir."

When his lips parted as if he was going to interrupt again, I added, "Nor is it because of your gift. Your mother and the advisors chose you because of who you are. You care about this kingdom more than anyone else I know. You go into town, you talk to the shopkeepers, you befriend anyone you see simply because you can. You connect with them; you laugh with them. You stand up for what you believe in. You know the rules, but you also know when you can break them. You may not be your father, but you will be a great king one day, Fynn. I can promise you that."

His eyes stayed fixed upon the sea. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he wasn't listening, but then I felt the brush of his hand as he flipped it over, followed by the weaving of his fingers between mine.

"Thank you, Dani."

I turned to watch the sun fall. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Chapter 20

DANI

We sat atop the hill until the sun had vanished, leaving only the stars and the moon to light the sky.

Outside, Fynn and I had fallen into a comfortable silence. Together, there was never a need to fill the space with small talk or other nonsense. Atop the hill, all the worries plaguing my mind were pushed to the wayside. For a moment, it was as if we weren't pretending to court each other, as if he hadn't kissed me, as if old feelings hadn't been rekindled despite years of shoving them down. As if nothing had changed between us at all in the past few months.

Until we walked into my room.

Or what I thought was my room.

"Wait, this can't be right," I said, twirling around as the door clicked shut.

My lungs were in my stomach as I stared at the luggage by the wall—more specifically, at the extra luggage sitting beside mine. This was most certainly wrong.

"I told them to bring my bags to my room."

"Are you missing something?" Fynn asked, placing a gentle hand on my back as he scanned the bags. "I can go ask?—"

I quickly stepped away and cut him off, "No, Fynn. I am not missing something. Don't you see what the issue is?"

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