Page 65 of Enchanted Kingdom
He pressed his lips together. “Quite convenient.”
I laughed.
“How was it for you?” he asked, his voice going serious. “Was it too hard?”
I shrugged. “Yes, but also no.” I sighed. “It will only get harder, I’m sure.”
He reached an arm around my back. “We only have to keep this up until the balls begin. Then it’ll get easier.”
I gave him a nod. “Okay.”
“You looked stunning tonight. I wanted to kiss you senseless the moment you walked in.”
I smiled. “Think they all bought it?”
Keir rolled his eyes. “More than likely. Damn fools. Every last one.”
* * *
Four nights later,we sat in the chair looking at the stars again. I was exhausted, the week filled with Keir ignoring me and Aiyana gloating about it.
Keir was playing with my bracelet on my wrist when I thought of something. Owen and I were going to Nerede again in the morning, and I was too excited to sit idle.
“Can we go to the kitchens?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I’ll be meeting Krew down there in a bit anyway.”
“Still training?”
“Always.”
Why did they always need to practice at night anyway? “But I thought Renna said you can use up your magic or something like that.”
Keir grinned. “That is what my father would have us all believe.”
“But that isn’t the case?” Now I had more questions than I did answers.
He again just smiled at me. “I assure you, I am stronger than I ever have been.”
I didn’t know exactly what that meant. There was still so much about magic I did not know.
“Why did you want to go to the kitchens?” he asked while reaching a hand down to me.
“I wanted to make you some cookies. But only if we won’t get in trouble.”
He shook his head. “Everyone else is probably asleep. And I guarantee you none of the other women request trips to a kitchen.”
I laughed. We left out the front door, so Easton was there to return me back to my room. While Owen was kind and friendly, Easton was a little more reserved, but he was nice enough. Not nearly on the level of creepy like Wallace was.
The baker who had been in the kitchens last time wasn’t there when we arrived. We had the whole place to ourselves.
“So what are these cookies you speak of?” Keir asked.
My eyebrows shot up. “You have the most decadent desserts at your disposal—all the truffles, cakes, macarons, pies, and puddings you could ever want—but you don’t know what a cookie is?”
He shook his head.
I rolled my eyes. “How cultured you are.”
