Page 82 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
But for now, we can tumble into bed and rest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
KALLE
It’s late afternoon. My body is tired from the journey here and sated from lovemaking, but I can’t seem to take a nap. Instead, I watch the firelight flicker across Justice’s sleeping face.
He broke the curse with a kiss.Could he be my true love?
From everything I understand about magic, it seems he must be. I can’t imagine that kissing Eleanor, or Eckhart, or anyone else would have restored my abilities. And something about him has always felt so right. He slots into my life perfectly, even though it doesn’t seem like he should.
I wrap my arms around him and spoon him, trying not to wake him but too selfish to leave him alone. I need to touch him all the time.
Would he want something more? Would he want to give up the life he knows in his world and move with me to my realm? Because I can leave for periods of time, but not permanently.
And yet I want to be with him forever.
Eventually I do doze a bit, but we both wake in time for dinner.
Justice yawns. “Do we have to get dressed up and go eat in some fancy dining room with a bunch of royals who want to ruin your people’s way of life?”
He always makes me smile, even when he says things that aren’t, strictly speaking, funny. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse? But I bet we could get dinner served here if we asked.”
“Please.”
I slip on a black silk robe I find hanging in a wardrobe and search for a method of summoning the court staff.
Justice whistles.
I spin to face him. “What?”
“I like you in black silk.”
My cheeks, as usual, heat at his compliments, and my hand automatically rises to my scar. I open my mouth to say something, but he gets to his feet and puts on a matching robe. “You always seem to think that I won’t like the way you look, because of your scar,” he says. “But I don’t just like it, I think it’s fucking hot.”
He sidles up to me and takes my face in his hands. I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls back. Then he kisses a path down my scar, from my forehead, over my eye, and to my cheek. I shiver and squeeze my eyes shut.
“It’s part of you, and you’re beautiful. You never need to hide it around me, and I wish you didn’t feel like you had to hide it from anyone else, either. If you’re comfortable showing it, I’llsupport you. If someone says something about it, they’ll have to talk to me. Okay?”
His indignation is heartwarming. He can’t know what it’s like to live with my failure on my face, but he does make me think perhaps I don’t need to wear my hood all the time.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
We share a sweet kiss, and then I ring the bell I located. A butler comes in, wearing the black, buckled uniform of this realm.
“Could you arrange with the kitchen that Justice and I, as well as my security team, eat in our rooms?” I ask. “Vegetarian, if possible.”
“Certainly, Your Highness,” he says. “Would you like anything further? Do you have any clothing that needs to be laundered?”
“Oh, definitely,” Justice says, hurrying over to our bags. “What’s your name?”
“It’s York, sir,” the butler says. He produces a black basket made of some kind of reed, and Justice and I pile our clothing into it.
“I’ve washed those jeans more on this journey than I have in years,” Justice says.
“Well, you get much dirtier on a quest than in everyday life.”
His eyes dance, and I read the innuendo in them: that he wants to get dirtier still. All he says is, “That’s true.”
