Page 21 of Princess of Air

“But you’re a magical princess—the Angel of Alchos.”

“I hate that moniker.” Even before my affair made it more ridiculous, that was true. It was no miracle for Mother to have a second child—she simply chose to break with tradition. “And the only magical princes are my brothers, so again, it’s a brilliant match for me.” Standing here with him, it does feel like a brilliant match. Everything I said is absolutely true.

“You didn’t seem happy when our betrothal was negotiated and agreed upon,” he says.

“Neither did you.” We were both silent and preoccupied during the entire process as far as I could tell.

He tilts his head, and I get the distinct impression he isn’t spoken to this way very often. “The entire thing was so dreadfully unromantic and sterile. It was rather miserable.”

“That’s what we were born into.”

He nods absently and reaches toward a blue daisy before stopping short to look at me. “May I?”

“They grow back quickly enough,” I say with a smile.

The blossom comes away smoothly and rests in the palm of his hand. “It may be what we were born into, but now that we’re living it, we can improve upon the situation. Don’t you think?”

Classifying this as a political contract makes some things so much easier for me. In the long term, what he’s insinuating should be my greatest desire—for us to truly be a couple, not just business partners. If my brain could convince my heart that the other option it entertains is not an option at all, I’d jump at this possibility.

Not if. When.

I will get over the infatuation with Tomas, and marrying someone so open to forging a strong relationship with me will be wonderful. “Yes, I think we can.”

His fingers brush against mine as he hands me the flower. “I know you’re uneasy about the matter of the crown, but I can’t help think we’re lucky to be able to spend so much more time together before we’re bound for life.”

“Yes, I suppose we are.” We may have been placed into this situation, but we can make of it whatever we wish. Someday, we’ll probably be happy together—once I get the blue-eyed obstruction between us out of my system.

Chapter eleven

A fireball hurdles toward Marcus but turns to steam when water fans out before him. Across the courtyard, another appears in Nina’s palm until she jerks her hand back and shakes off droplets from Marcus’ defensive maneuver. Flames appear on her other hand. They jump to her shoulder as she pulls her hand away, water splashing onto the ground. Like a lightning-fast dance, fires bounce and swirl around her. Water hits her or misses just as quickly as she moves. Flames coil around her arms en route to her hands, and she rolls them together between her palms before launching the glowing orb toward the sibling who is somehow both most like her and her opposite.

He blocks it again, and the beginning of a cocky smile appears on his face before he notices a ring of fire surrounding him, growing to wall him in. His smile warms as he nods to Nina. “Well played.” A quick wave shoots around him, dousing the flames.

She shakes water off as they both walk toward me. “Not bad, but not enough to ever thwart you for long.”

Marcus shrugs.

“If only we could all be so confident as to not require any practice at all.” Nina drops her chin as she shoots me an accusatory look.

“Perhaps I am practicing, and you just can’t see it.” I blow a cool gust at her, and she rolls her eyes. Though, of course she’s right. I’m not practicing for this nonsense. Not because I’m so confident—I simply don’t care enough to. Rylan would be furious with me if I lost in the first round and left him to be outnumbered by the twins in the second, but to be done with it is tempting. Losing would soothe so many of my anxieties. There would be no more concern over what would happen if I won, and my staunch opposition to winning would be one less lie to keep up. And though part of me is warming to the idea of getting to know Jamys, the knowledge that he’d leave once I’m out does offer a guilty kind of solace. The Cerauno royals don’t appear overly interested in my potential change of status, however Ceraun’s future queen-consort becoming sovereign of Alchos would be quite different than what they agreed to with our betrothal. Any other result is of no consequence to them, so once I’m out, they needn’t stay for the result.

Jamys’ presence is a reminder not only of the impending end of my affair, but of the fact that he is someone I should be thrilled to be with. I could be happy about our betrothal, except I’m not ready to let go of… everything I’ll be losing.

I leave the twins to it, setting off to snatch some food from the kitchens rather than taking a formal lunch. The back hallways are quiet, but the kitchen is bustling. I don’t want to get in the way—or get caught—but asparagus and goat’s cheese tartlets are calling to me. When the nearby cook is occupied at the stove, I pull air up underneath one where it sits on the cooling rack. It rises and makes its way to the doorway where I wait until a hand snatches it from midair. The body attached to said hand comes around from the corner, its face pinched with aggravation.

“Hello, Mary.”

“Do you realize you do not actually have to steal food from your own palace?”

I smile widely. “It’s so much more fun this way, though.”

“I have told you to stay out of my kitchens.”

“And I have. I did not step foot—”

“Oh, off with you!” She shoves the tartlet into my hands with a huff.

“You’ll miss me when I move away.”

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