Page 36 of To Sway a Prince
He pressed a kiss over the point where I had been cut. "Yes. Some of the reagents need to rest anyway, and…I want to spend the time in this way. I will see you after sundown in the eighth door down from your room."
"Of—of course." I drew my hand back to my chest. My skin tingled from the memory of his lips and his breath wisping over mine. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Don't be late." He crossed to the door, cast one more look at me, and then left.
15
A QUIET DINNER FOR TWO
My stomach twisted and fluttered as if I had just dropped a thousand feet. I spent the rest of the time restoring my magic and strengthening my abilities. Then, shortly before sunset, I prepared.
I hadn't really fussed much about my appearance since I'd been here. It had been enough to have clean clothes, soap, and hot water. But now…now I wanted to do something special.
I stood before the wardrobe, hand hovering over the silver handle. A memory surfaced—my mother's smile as she held the pink fabric up to my shoulders, preparing me for my first ball where I was to be presented to the kingdom. Fifteen years old. Nearing the time when I would begin assuming royal duties.
"Pink is special to the crimson fae," she'd said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "It reflects your soul, darling. Bright and warm, nurturing and soft."
Father just laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Blue suits her better—turquoise, like the rune fae. Strong and steady."
"It suits her, but pink is special," Mother said.
"I like the pink too," my older sister Sona said. "Especially the rich shade. It's like the roses in the desert."
"But blue is easier for the eyes when one is working with knotweaving," Father countered. "And it is easier to make stronger runes when using those shades in our family."
"I think green would be better," my eldest brother Loam said. "It still has the blue and works against the gold, but it's easier to hide. Especially dark green. Or black even."
"Princesses do not wear black at their presentment. This is our opportunity to tell the kingdom something particular about Astraia. Black must be reserved for the higher functions and for her demonstration of her powers when she is eighteen. These traditions matter." Mother tilted up my chin, then adjusted the fabric.
My brother Elim hooked his arm around my waist and flipped my hair out of the floral binding. He wove a quick enchantment that made my curls bounce and scrambled the colors of the flower petals together. "I think she should wear yellow so it matches her hair."
Sona rolled her eyes, scoffing at him. "We do not match our clothes to our hair. We contrast with our hair. If you must match something, match your eyes."
A knot of emotion formed in my throat. Little had I known then how soon I would wear all black and why.
Willing back the tears, I closed my eyes and focused my intention, picturing a gown of soft pink. When I opened the wardrobe, my breath caught. The dress that awaited me was exactly as I'd imagined—rose pink with flowing angel sleeves and the perfect flair and layering.
I ran my fingers along the fabric, turning it inside out to examine the seams. There, hidden from casual view, was an inner lining of turquoise and blue threads. My compromise, once upon a time, to honor both parents. The rune stitchings on the inside even formed the runic marks for family.
I hadn't worn pink since. It was far too happy a color. But now…now I wanted it. The gown fit perfectly, and even though I did not add perfume or alter my scent from anything but clean, I felt as if I was ready.
As soon as I opened the guest room door, I caught the mouthwatering scents. It was only a few doors down, and the carved door had been left ajar. The room beyond stole my breath.
A feast had been laid out on a table draped in midnight blue cloth scattered with silver stars. Platters held glistening roast duck with crisp, golden skin nestled among caramelized onions, carrots, sprouts, and potatoes. Beside it sat a steaming tureen of wild mushroom soup, its earthy aroma mingling with fresh-baked bread sliced neatly in a cloth-lined basket. Crystal goblets caught the light from floating white taper candles, and delicate pastries dusted with sugar formed a small mountain on a silver tray. Other smaller plates held honeyed figs stuffed with soft goat cheese and crushed walnuts, charred leeks drizzled with shadow truffle oil, and slivers of cold-smoked river trout wrapped in vine leaves with a moon fruit garnish. A shallow glass dish shimmered with starlight jelly with a tiny silver knife balanced over the top. The decadent scents made my mouth water and my stomach cramp with hunger.
Ramiel stood waiting at the head of the table, dressed in a tailored rich blue surcoat, embroidered with silver runes that shimmered when he moved. The formal attire surprised me—as if we'd both decided this evening warranted something special without ever discussing it. I hadn't even questioned the choice of dress, and that—that was remarkable.
I realized then we were both staring at one another, his mouth slightly open as if he had never seen anything like me.
"You look..." his voice trailed off as his gaze traveled over me. His throat bobbed.
"So do you." I kept my chin up even though heat spread through my body and likely made my cheeks match my dress.
Straightening his shoulders, he stepped forward with that quiet grace of his, pulled out a high-backed chair, then held out his hand. "Please."
My hand slid easily in his. He guided me to the seat and slid it under me.
I settled into the chair, sinking into the cushion and painfully aware of his proximity. His hand grazed my shoulder as he stepped away, that wonderful scent of frosted silver and warm cedar wrapping around me like a sensual embrace.
