Page 5 of Luca

I snorted. “Little late for that, wouldn’t you say?” He met my gaze again, wide-eyed and visibly mortified. I’d have laughed at the uncharacteristic display of emotion if I hadn’t felt so guilty. “I’m teasing you,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring expression. “You’re not intruding. I’m almost done, anyway.”

He relaxed, though his eyebrows scrunched as if the idea of a joke was alien to him, and my smile faltered.

Orian was visually a mixture of Cair and Teighan, and the youngest of the three. On the surface, he seemed to fit the bill of a distant and unapproachable Fae bodyguard—a mirror of Tee’s scowl etched onto his brow, but with white hair and the light, bluish tinged skin of his eldest brother. He possessed his father’s harsh aura and robotic mannerisms, though there was something else there, a slightly more agreeable side I’d only known him to show around me. A vulnerability, almost.

Cair had admitted that he’d never known his brother to talk as much as he had since I’d arrived. Apparently, he’d always been eerily reserved, even as a child, only opening his mouth to carry out his father’s orders or as a formality. While it made me feel a little special knowing I’d broken the cycle, it was also kinda sad to think about.

Were these stilted conversations all the positive interaction he’d ever allowed himself to have?

My mate said I had a knack for making the grumpiest of grumps soften in my presence—I’d grown to think of it as my superpower—but the more time I spent with Orian, the less I believed he was actually the asshole everyone painted him to be. He seemed unsure. Socially awkward, even. He wasn’t a bumbling fool like me, by any means. It was as if hewantedto talk—to me, at least—but he had no experience with it. Or he didn’t know what was acceptable to ask, so he stood in stoic silence, chewing over his words. Tee had no interest in conversation, especially when we’d first met. He’d been avoidant, and I’d had to wear him down, but Orian having purposefully sought me out proved he was amenable, he was just…struggling. I found myself wondering why.

I doubted I’d be far off if I blamed his father for it.

“Have you…” Orian clenched and unclenched his jaw as if carefully recalculating his words. I busied myself sifting through the soil and removing any unwanted debris to give him some space. “How goes the search for your father?”

“Oh. Um, we still haven’t found him, even with access to the restricted section of the library.” I winced as soon as the words left my mouth and sent him a pleading look. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.” He acknowledged me with a subtle nod. I sighed, letting my shoulders sag. “It’s been months. I’m beginning to think I just fell out of the sky or something.”

Orian hummed as if actually mulling it over. “It is a possibility. Considering you don’t have wings.”

“I—” I snapped my mouth shut, cutting myself off from explaining the meaning of an idiom.He’s not exactly wrong.“You know what? Good point. I don’t have wings. Or fangs. Or horns. And as Cair justlovesto point out, I’m shorter than you giants.” I huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t really look Fae at all, do I?”

“I disagree,” he said, matter-of-factly, but didn’t elaborate. “Perhaps your father does not want to be found.”

“Uh, maybe? I just wish I knew either way.” I patted mindlessly at the dirt. “Even if he’d rather ignore my existence, I still want to know who he is.”

Orian tilted his head to the side—a mannerism he shared with his brothers. The three of them were like big, curious puppies, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at the image. “Why does it matter to you so much?” he asked.

I hesitated. Not because I hadn’t already answered that same question in my mind over a hundred times, in a hundred different ways, but my eagerness to overshare often got me into sticky situations. I didn’t detect any sketchy vibes from Orian, nor did I believe he was a gossip—that went without saying, really—but the fact remained that we weren’t besties, and he was the king’s henchman. No matter who I spoke to in the palace, there was always a chance that every conversation was fed back to him, no matter how insignificant. So, even at times like this where the information wasn’t world-altering, for the sake of my survival at court, practicing the art of doing a quick mental scan of everything I wanted to say before I spoke was in my best interest.

I’d already let slip about the library, but we’d ignore that.

“I want to know where I came from,” I said honestly. “Finding my dad is, of course, about meeting the guy himself, but it’s also about figuring out what I’ve missed out on knowing all these years. I loved my mom, and though I feel some resentment about the secrecy, I know she did what she thought was best, but since learning about all this, I’ve begun to doubt whether who I am is actuallyme, or if it’s only the parts sheallowed meto be. There’s an empty space that I want to fill, and a whole twenty-seven years’ worth of questions I want answers to.” I shrugged. “I just want to know who I am.”

“That is… admirable.”

I sighed. “If only I knewsomething. Just one single breadcrumb is all I’d need.”

“Your resilience will prove fruitful, I’m sure.” He said it with conviction, although his manner remained stony and his voice detached, as if kind words were foreign on his tongue. I appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless. “Should you be in need of assistance… Well, there are resources I could utilize.”

I smiled up at him, grateful for the offer and delighted by his show of compassion. I would melt the Ice Prince yet. “Thanks, Ri.”

Orian’s eyes widened minutely, as if my appreciation had caught him off guard—or no one had ever thanked him before—but he recovered quickly from his internal crisis and dipped his head without another word.

In silence, I finished pottering around in the flower bed before standing with a groan. I peeled off my gloves and set them on the wooden bench to the side. “I’m going to head back inside,” I announced as I stretched out my back and wiped down my pants. Cair’s imagination would be getting up to all sorts if he saw the state of my knees. Truth be told, so was mine, but I filed those musings away for exploration at a later date.Blow jobs in the garden: question mark.“I’ve been reading this really informative book about the mating habits of minotaurs, and I’d kinda like to finish it before dinner.”

Orian blinked, but otherwise didn’t comment on my choice of reading material. For the best, really. His eyes did drop to my neck, however, where I knew a livid bruise in the shape of Cair’s fangs had formed, but again, he just clenched his jaw and ignored it.

I barely resisted the urge to draw my head into my shirt like a turtle.

“I shall escort you, if you will permit it?” he said. Whatever got me out from under his silent scrutiny, I was totally amenable.

“Sure!” I chirped before gathering my tools and striding out of the garden.

Orian followed two steps behind.

* * *

Curled up in the armchair in my nook, with a blanket over my legs and a book in my hand, I could fully unwind and stress over nothing except the words on the page. It was my favorite part of the day, except any time I spent with Cair. Nothing would ever beat my mate’s company, especially when he’d sit with me here, bundle me into his arms, and let me perch on his lap while I read. He said it relaxed him, watching me concentrate, committing every line and freckle on my face to memory and basking in my scent and heartbeat. I never argued. Mostly because I often found solace in the exact same thing.

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