Page 11 of Crown of Iron
Our predestined futures feel easier to accept when we can laugh at them. The heaviness of what’s to come is more bearable when accompanied by humor and quick wit. We have a way of keeping each other grounded while giving the other space to be who they are instead of who others expect them to be.
A warm chuckle drifts along with the breeze, and I glance up to find Leif shaking his head. “How the hell did we get to this place, Elle?”
I lift my brows and say, “Promised to marry each other?”
“Yeah. Have you ever looked at Micah and Borin and felt sad you will never have a bond like theirs? Maybe you have a parah out there.”
“No. I never had a reason to dwell on the bond when I knew who I would marry.”
As kids, we bragged about our betrothal; we were marrying our best friend. I couldn't imagine a bond stronger than mine and Leif's, even one anointed by the Statera. I didn’t care if I had a parah when I would spend every day with the person I liked most. It was a perfect match for two kids, but the complexities of adulthood have cast a dark cloud over what was once so simple.
Since we've come of age, neither of us has spoken in depth about our pending union, or the things we could miss out on. We've dabbled in relationships, Leif more than me. My handful of futile attempts were nothing more than experiments to calm raging hormones and feel physical closeness. Responsibility and my predestined future made it impossible to fully give myself to someone.
“Honestly, I spend more time wondering what we'll do if we're not compatible physically,” I say.
Leif runs his palm over the back of his neck, his hazel eyes darting to the horses. “We'll figure it out, and you know I would never stop you from finding that kind of happiness with someone else.”
“Everyone is expecting us to create an heir, to make this new line to inherit the throne,” I say, repeating the words I've heard from Borincountless times.
Our child will be a new beginning. They will rule not knowing a world that judges Cyffreds and Khiros based on the manifestation of their gifts. For the first time in our history, powerful and powerless will be equal.
Leif shifts, propping himself up with an arm behind him while the other rests atop his knee. “We could…”
“Try?” My lips pull up on one side and I furrow my brows.
“It's the only way to know for sure. Maybe we're worrying about nothing.”
This moment is long overdue, but it doesn't make the quaking of my legs any less as I move toward Leif. I stop between his bent knees and pull at the hem of my tunic before kneeling.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.
“Yes. Are you?” I curl my fingers around the back of his neck and pull him closer.
“Yeah.” He cups my cheek and runs a shaky thumb over my skin.
The warmth of his breath blankets my mouth, and every muscle in my body tightens. I swallow against the queasy feeling in my stomach, and my eyes flutter shut. His mouth is soft, warm, and experienced in the art of kissing. He glides his tongue over my bottom lip in a request for entrance, and I open to him, tasting him for the first time. I've never kissed someone who emanates such confidence in the movement of his lips.
But Ifeelnothing. No beating wings flutter in my stomach, and my skin doesn't rise in goosebumps. My toes don't curl, and my heart doesn't race. His skillful kiss evokes no desire within me. It's just a pleasant kiss.
I release his neck and we part.
“Nothing,” we whisper at the same time.
Leif runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a puff of air, rattling his lips. I put some much-needed space between us and fetch my pants. As much as we love one another, we're notinlove. It was a silly, romantic notion to think a kiss would change what we already knew. But we both hoped there could be something more, that our marriage wouldn't strictly be for the sake of duty.
“There are ways to get pregnant that won't require us to…”
“I know,” I reply, wiggling into my tight leather pants. “It could be worse, right?”
Leif stands and brushes the grass from his trousers. “Yeah.”
I yank on my boots until the tops rest just under my knees. When I'm done tucking in my shirt, I find Leif standing in front of me. “I'll be a good husband to you, Elle. You'll always have your best friend and biggest ally by your side.”
“I know.”
He hunches down, bringing us eye to eye. “Always.”
I fight the tears begging to trail down my cheeks. It's hard to deny the romantic daydreamer who lives within me. The girl who wanted someone to sweep her off her feet and get lost in the throes of passion. But if I must let her go, at least I'll have my best friend with me.
