Page 97 of Façade

Near midday, an unexpected gesture interrupted our travel monotony. One of the guards nudged his horse close enough to hand me a small bouquet of blossoms. My heart swelled before I could check it, but I kept my expression impassive, never mind the flowers were vibrant and lovely. Buttercups, my favorites.

“What’s this?” The stiff question was entirely unnecessary considering I knew exactly what they were and who they’d come from. What I most wanted to know waswhy.

“A token from His Highness.”

Even from far behind me I could feel the warmth of Ryland’s gaze…as well as the heated scrutiny of the guards Ryland had recruited to deliver his spontaneous gift up the line of men atop the horses as they awaited my reaction with eager anticipation.

For a moment I was too overcome to speak as I lightly traced each petal. Had the man actually stopped long enough to pick the flowers growing along the trail before catching up to our party and cajoling his guards to hand them up until they reached me? The sweetness of the gesture and its representation of how well my former husband knew me became tainted by the fact that despite how close we’d become, he’d still betrayed me.

My anger returned in a rush. Did the scoundrel truly think he could buy my forgiveness with such a paltry gesture? My prickling conscience reminded me of his other demonstrations of repentance in annulling our marriage, returning my magic, and offering me his protection, but no matter how noble the gestures, they didn’t dispel my hurt, nor did this one. It felt far safer for my vulnerable heart to wonder if the token was nothing more than a ploy to get close to my magic rather than the thoughtful one I feared.

In a heat of passion I broke the heads of the flowers off, leaving only the stems. The guard who’d handed me the bouquet lurched forward, as if to stop me…but it was too late. Silas looked on in approval as I handed the guard the broken stems.

“Please convey my gratitude to the prince by giving him this response.”

At first the guard made no motion to accept the destroyed flowers…or what was left of them, his shock fixated on the broken stems. When he remained unresponsive too long, I repeated the order.

He hesitated a moment more before finally accepting them with an obedient—albeit reluctant—nod. “Very well, Your Highness. I will ensure that he gets them.” He handed them to the guard behind him so they could make their way back down the line of horses.

“Must have been a nasty breakup,” one muttered before passing my token to his comrade riding just behind him.

This guard wrinkled his nose at the broken stems. “Nasty indeed. Would it be disrespectful to give these to the prince?”

“He’d undoubtedly prefer to fully understand where he stands with his lady.”

My rebellious heart happily lifted upon being referred to as Ryland’slady, stubbornly inclined to the idea despite its wounds. The annoying man wasn’t making it easy to hate him as I was determined to do.

The guards’ muttering continued behind me. I tried to tune it out as best I could, even as my mind puzzled over Ryland’s actions. What purpose had the sweet gesture served him? He’d already returned my powers and broken the vial that had stolen them, a testament that not only wouldn’t he use the magic he’d wrongly claimed, but without our magical marriage bond he wouldn’t be able to do so in the future…unless he possessed another rare and priceless enchanted object, which seemed highly unlikely.

I balanced the broken flowers on my saddle, unsure what to do with them. Despite my frequent temptations, they were too pretty to cast aside onto the dusty trail, yet keeping them only served as an unwanted reminder of the man who’d bestowed them, who I was doing my best not to think of.

In the end my heart acted on its own. The moment I was certain Silas’s attention was diverted, I held the reins in one hand and carefully tucked the blossoms safely into my handkerchief with no conscious explanation as to why I felt the need to keep them, only that my love that hadn’t yet died yearned to.

Their beauty taunted me throughout the remainder of the journey, a constant reminder of Ryland’s lovely gesture that testified he’d been thinking of me as obsessively as I had him and wished to cheer me up.

With every glimpse of the lovely blossoms, I remembered each of Ryland’s sweet gestures he’d bestowed upon me in the time I’d known him. I gritted my teeth. Now was not the time to remember all the things I’d come to love about him that stubbornly still existed despite his unforgivable betrayal. Yet though his offense against me was serious, was it large enough to eclipse everything else?

My emotions only become more tumultuous by the time night settled. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the man as we disembarked and began setting up camp after I’d so harshly returned his gift, but he remained considerate, which only made everything all the more difficult.

I resisted the desire to look at him as long as my endurance allowed as we unrolled my bedding for the night, me as far away as the cramped clearing allowed. Even from a distance I could see the broken stems I’d given him resting in a place of prominence near his pillow, as if he treasured what I’d meant as an insult enough to keep them close.

The heat of my perplexity drew his gaze. I immediately preoccupied myself with my bedding, yet his presence lured me, a sensation more powerful after our unbearable distance during our journey. I fought a valiant moment more before I couldn’t resist stealing a single peek…only to regret the impulse when I discovered the man had made a makeshift vase for the broken stems out of rocks he must have collected along the trail so that they were propped up beside him. He gave them an almost fond look before he caught my gaze with a blush. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

I hastily looked away with a gasp, but I could still feel him watching with his familiar warmth that caused my heart to patter wildly. His expression had been soft, even a bit teasing, while also quite sad, as if he missed me as much as I missed him.

I tightened my jaw.I don’t miss him. Yet my heart belied the words by succumbing to the lure guiding me to the handkerchief protecting the remnants of the wildflowers he’d gifted me.

As if touching them acted as a summons, he suddenly approached. I yanked my caressing touch away from the condemning flowers and startled around to face him.

“What is it?” The suddenness of his arrival gave me little chance to rebuild the defenses surrounding my heart, leaving me unprepared for his overwhelming presence.

He simply handed me one of his blankets. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

Despite having spent the past several minutes arranging my bed as far away from him as possible, somehow it wasn’t until this moment that the full implications of tonight’s sleeping arrangement settled over me: tonight would be the first while traveling that we’d spend apart, leaving me without the comforting shield of his warmth to protect me from the cool night air.

Even after everything, I wanted to nestle not with his offered blanket but close to his sleeping presence, an inappropriate wish now that we were no longer married. I clenched my jaw to hold back the ridiculous plea for him to stay with me. Surely the heat of my burning resentment would keep me warm enough.

I wanted to order him to stop being so nice to me, but I was afraid if I opened my mouth something far more condemning would escape instead. Our fingers grazed as I reluctantly accepted the blanket and my body, indifferent to my continued resentment, responded with a pleasant fluttery sensation reminiscent of when we were falling in love.

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