Page 24 of Earth Dragon
“What do you build?” she asked.
“Furniture,” he replied. “Many a cottage in this kingdom has a chest of drawers made by their future king.”
She couldn’t keep a laugh down. It felt good as it bubbled up inside of her. How long had it been since she laughed like that? Naturally and because something tickled her. A very long time.
“Do you drive these chests of drawers out to these cottages yourself or do you make them fetch them?” she asked.
“Oh, I drive them, of course,” he replied, though she knew immediately from his body language he did no such thing.
She shook her head at him. Whenever she thought she had him figured out, he went and did something unexpected. Like bringing her to the Pavilion. Or even showing up in a good mood to ask her to come hunting with him.
“Why did you ask me to go with you this morning?” she asked.
“I think I made it perfectly obvious,” he replied. There was sawdust in his hair, she noticed. She had to keep from taking the steps separating them and fussing over them, just to get a chance to touch him again.
Had he bewitched her somehow? Enchanted her with the bow and arrow he lent her during the hunt? Or with the bell as it was raised to the ceiling of the Pavilion, silver details gleaming in the sunlight?
“Yes, but why would you want to spend time with me?” she asked. “You did not want me here a day ago and now…?”
He made a face at her. “You know why,” he said meaningfully. They couldn’t speak of it in front of Petrus and Eric. She knew as much, but she still craved an answer suddenly.
“But it does not mean we must spend time together,” she remarked stubbornly.
“I don’t know,” he said, growing impatient. “I was going hunting, and I thought you might enjoy seeing the grounds. Get some fresh air. You won’t be allowed a horse without me present.”
She sighed softly, taking her eyes off his.
There it was. The reminder of who she would remain within these walls. Unless she aided her father in breaking them down.
A queen in a cell or a traitor on the run.
Those were her options.
Unless she broke away from both boxes. She could warn the prince and then make a run for it on her own. She would no longer be a traitor—she would be a savior. Her father would be dealt with. She would be free to go anywhere and be anyone she chose. She could embrace pride rather than shame and allow herself to be happy at long last. Because surely happiness would come?
But she would be alone in the world.
Where would she go? What would become of her?
She retreated at the question marks.
She would not even know where to begin taking care of herself.
And if she failed. If her father prevailed. Then the world would go dark, and she would spend the rest of her existence locked in a box with no way to escape. Her inner dragon snuffed out like a candle in the wind. And no one there to hear her screams.
The dread was suffocating. She snapped herself out of it by asking, “My father mentioned that he wanted to go rest before tonight’s festivities—was he referring to the Bell of the Ball?”
“No,” Ewan replied. “That will be at the end of this week. Tonight, we celebrate the farmers, and their hard work all summer. We feast and drink to their prosperity.”
“I see,” she said. “And you thought it was a good idea to go build something rather than work on your social etiquette skills?”
He cocked a brow.
“I already told you my etiquette does not need improving,” he remarked, but when she smiled, he returned it.
What was she doing?
She should simply excuse herself and retire to her rooms. He had promised her a dress. She was sure to need the time to get ready. But at his widening smile, she knew it was hopeless. She was going to spend every minute available to her helping this prince turn himself into a king.
