Page 91 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

“Your studio had to be on this side of the castle.” Viridian says, noticing me looking at the windows. “So that you’ll have all the natural light in here.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say, in awe.

“I didn’t know how you preferred to draw,” he starts, gesturing to our surroundings. “I thought an easel might be an awkward angle for drawing, but I still included some anyway, in case you’d like to use one.”

I follow his line of sight and see two easels sitting on the floor in the corner. They’re not as large as a painter’s easel, small enough that I could pick them up and set them on the table.

I’ve never had an easel.

At home, I never let myself dream that I might have one. For fear of living with the disappointment.

I have an easel.

A whole studio for my drawing.

“And the table,” he adds, rushing to it while pulling me along. “The artists I consulted believed it to be a nice height for drawing. The wood is fine mahogany, smoothed so that you’ll have a flat surface to draw on. If you don’t use the easels, that is.”

I approach the table and run my fingers along its surface. Viridian’s put so much thought into every single detail—from the windows, the easels, the height of the table.

It must have taken him some time to organize this. To turn this space into something I’d like.

And to think that he did all of this, just for me.

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking as if he were hanging onto every slight shift in my expression. “We can make any changes you want.”

“Viridian, it’s…” I shake my head a little, unable to contain my emotion. My gratitude. The overwhelming feeling of joy I feel in knowing he did all of this to make me happy. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

He visibly relaxes, mouth parted into a broad smile. “That’s all I ever hoped for.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him. “This is… More than anyone has ever done for me.”

“Of course.” He tightens his arms around me and presses his mouth to the top of my head. “You deserve all of this, and more, Cryssa. So much more.”

I close my eyes and breathe in his scent for a moment before pulling away. His amber eyes find mine, holding my gaze. Warmth blooms in my chest, making me feel lighter than air.

The gentle knock at the door has both of our heads turning.

“Enter,” Viridian calls, his princely mask slipping into place. It’s strange watching him shift from just Viridian to the Crown Prince.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.

“Your Highness—” the servant pauses, eyes flicking to me.

“What is it?” Viridian asks, leveling his expression.

“The prisoner, he…”

Viridian casts his eyes to the floor. Annoyance bleeds through his tone. “Go on.”

“He’s injured another one of the guards. And he won’t stop fighting until you let him see her,” the servant finishes, looking at me.

“When?” Viridian’s voice is gravelly, as if someone has a knife to his throat. Though, he doesn’t sound surprised.

Has this happened before?

The servant swallows. “Now.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

---