Page 62 of The Sins of Silas

Taira’s gaze hardened. “With the Prince of Otacia.”

The man looked like he was about to faint. “Relax, Logan,” Leroy muttered, patting his shoulder. “I’ll catch you up later.” Hisattention went back to us. “Logan is a human, but his sister got magic from their mother.”

“Leroy,” she hissed again.

Surprisingly, Silas spoke. “You needn’t fear. I’m not going to harm you.”

Taira glowered at him, crossing her arms in fear…and in anger. “I willnevertrust you.”

Leroy sighed, then gave Silas an apologetic smile. “Don’t hold her anger against her.”

Silas’s eyes widened, and then, for the first time, I witnessed the Prince smile. His golden eyes went back to Taira, whose glare fell away at his expression.

“I don’t blame her. I have to prove I am trustworthy first.”

Her crossed arms slowly slacked at her sides, her blue eyes shining from unreleased tears.

Leroy clapped. “Alright, back to business. We are here for suits. I’ll talk to you two after, I promise."

After over an hour of fishing through various formal attire, we all settled on the outfits we'd be wearing that evening. Leroy insisted we stop for lunch at his home, the modest castle.

Leroy's wife was cleaning dishes as we strolled inside their kitchen. Her hair was a warm brunette, and I noted her eyes were a matching brown when she turned around and smiled at all of us. Quin was at their dining table, working on what appeared to be homework, while the other children were chasing each other, giggling.

“Keep it down, you two,” she scolded. “You’ll wake your sister.” Her loving gaze found her husband. “Oh, hi, honey,” she greeted, kissing Leroy on the cheek.

“It smells lovely in here,” he complimented, kissing her back.

She gave him a wink. “I made apple pie.”

“My favorite,” he murmured, then slid his arm around her waist. “This is my wife, Emma. Emma, this is Silas, Roland, Merrick, Hendry, and Edmund.”

She beamed at us. “Would you boys like some?”

The most amusing part of eating that apple pie wasn’t its delectable flavor, nor was it the goofy children fighting amongst one another. No, it was reading Silas.

He was completely baffled—even if I couldn’t read his emotions, his face gave it away. Emma was overly kind, never once showing an ounce of fear toward him.

He even went to take a bite of his pie, then froze, eyes nervously darting to the King’s wife.

She chuckled, then leaned down, taking a bite of his pie into her mouth with her own fork. “Baking poisonous pies in a house of children would be quite literally a recipe for disaster.”

Silas had inclined his head, the corner of his lip turning up ever so slightly, before conceding and tasting the warm pie. Leroy practically scarfed down his.

“So,” Silas began, eyes back on Emma. “Are you Forsmont’s Queen then?”

She snorted. “Queen?”

Leroy chuckled. “She even laughs at my title as King.” He lifted a glass of milk, gulping down the cold liquid. “Like I said, we do things differently here. Technically, yes, she is Queen. The people call her so.”

“And I despise it,” she added with an eye-roll, leaning against the counters with crossed arms.

I felt warm emotions spread through Silas as he smiled down at his plate before resuming his eating.

Nostalgia.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Leroy drawled, and he snickered when she whipped her dish rag at him.

“So that makes little Quin here a prince then, huh?” Roland joked. Quin eyed him from his place on the floor, playing with his baby sister.

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