Page 46 of River & Crown
"And you know I love watching you in your element. What is going on here?" I asked of his painting.
The canvas housed thick smudges of midnight blue, dark plum, forest green, with thin strokes of dusky rose. The blend of colors was breathtaking, but what I saw as beautiful, Killian probably saw differently.
"Nothing," he huffed, adding another thick slab of the rose color.
"Killian, you can talk to me." I sighed, walking fully into his studio. "I know you think I don't understand, but?—"
"Emersyn, you don't understand. How can you when you find what I want as troublesome and weakening?"
I froze as a chill swept my spine from his cold tone.
"I may not want the same things as you, but it doesn't mean I don't understand."
"Then what does it mean? Have I not asked you to find me a wife?"
"Yeah, but?—"
"See, that's the problem. There is nobut. Either you will or you won't, and you've made it very clear that you won't. Your exact words, if I'm not mistaken, were, 'Why do you need companionship when you have Grim, Ghost, and me?'"
I blinked back my frustration at how my brother twisted my intentions.
"Killian, I want you to have companionship. I really do?—"
"And here comes anotherbut," he interrupted, finally placing his lifeless eyes on me. A simple glance from Killian always felt like a hammer caving my chest in.
"Yes, abutis coming because you only hear thenoinstead of listening to the reason that follows. I want you to be happy, Killian. You're my brother. What kind of sister would I be if I didn't want that for you, but..." I paused to let the love and concern I felt for Killian sink in. Hopefully, he saw whatever colors he needed to see to believe what I was telling him.
"The way you are going about finding a wife is a bit much. First, you ask me to help you, and when I say no, you make a deal with Chance. You were going to let that man give you his estranged daughter."
"So." He shrugged.
"So?" I snipped. "You can't just make deals with people to find you a wife. That's not how companionship, relationships, or marriage work."
"It worked for Beast." He shrugged.
"Who is Beast?"
"From Beauty and the Beast. Belle didn't willingly live in that gloomy, dusty ass castle. She did so in exchange for her father's freedom."
"Okay, but that's a fairytale. This is real life."
"It doesn't matter." He waved me off. "The point is the soil in which the seed grows doesn't have to be the richest for it to sprout. Love can flourish under the harshest conditions."
"That may be true, but what woman is going towillinglysign on to be the wife of a man she doesn't know?"
"It doesn't have to be willingly." He shrugged as if forcing a woman to marry him was the unkept soil that was supposed to sprout years of love.
"Killian, you?—"
"Sorry to interrupt, but a Mr. Gravehart is here," Irving, Killian's house manager, informed us.
"I'll be there in a second. Thank you, Irving."
Nodding his head, Irving left as swiftly as he came.
"Which Gravehart is here?" I asked, happy for the change in conversation.
"Crown."
