Page 66 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“I find them quite reliable.”
“Did they tell you what’s in my pocket?”
Her brows rose. “We were just about to get to that.”
He pulled the stone from his pocket. “It’s for your birthday.” He explained its significance as he pressed it into her palm. “Whatever strengths the stone has, they’ll be yours on your birthday and every birthday to come. But first you need to close your eyes and let its power flow into you.”
Her left brow quirked into a question. “My birthday was weeks ago.”
He cupped her hand in his. “It will still work. I’m king. I can stretch the magic a bit.”
She snorted and closed her eyes. “I’m not feeling anything yet. How long will it take for the power to flow?” she asked.
He stared—her eyes shut, her shoulders relaxed, her face glowing in the moonlight with amusement, playing along with him.Until tomorrow, the next day, the day after that, he wanted to answer, so she’d remain there, her hand wrapped between his. But instead, he slowly pulled his hands away and said, “It’s done.”
She opened her fist and smiled at the small white stone shimmering with a single fleck of blue at its center. “It’s beautiful.” She skimmed her finger across it. “Will I be able to lift a car over my head now?”
“Probably not. It’s a moonstone. But it will strengthen your intuitions and help you follow your instincts. I’ll bring you the car stone next time.”
“Thank you.” She continued to admire the stone, turning it to catch the faint light of the moon. “I’ll have to fish stones from the river to take back to my sisters when I leave.”
“You miss your sisters.”
She glanced up, as if surprised he had noticed. “Yes, I do. We’ve never been apart much, and I worry about them. But they’re both strong and smart. They’ll be fine. Though Harper is rather defenseless when it comes to a good book. They’ve given her a deep-seated belief in happy endings.”
“But not you?”
Her expression sobered. “Happiness is slippery. I savor the moments I can.” Her eyes rested in his for a long moment before she dropped the stone into her pocket. “What about you? Do you miss your brother?”
Tyghan coughed.Miss his brother?It was mostly a holiday not having him around—except for the extra duties that now fell to Tyghan. “Sure I do,” he answered.
A skeptical puff of air escaped from her lips. “Well, that was convincing.” She relaxed against the tree trunk, her hand grazing one of the weeping branches. “I’ve told you about my family. Tell me about yours. You never talk about them.”
Tyghan’s neck tensed. “You don’t want to know about them.”
“Yes, I do. Think of it as another birthday gift.”
“It’s not your birthday.”
Her left brow arched.
He struggled talking about his family. They were complicated. He eyed the path that led to the festivities and rubbed his neck. Maybe now was a good time to go.
“What’s your brother like? Funny? Serious?”
Tyghan squinted, like the sun was in his eyes, deciding whether to answer. He stepped over to a half-buried boulder and sat. “Cael is arrogant, petty, demanding, and a literal royal pain in the ass.”
Bristol shrugged, unfazed. “So he’s a lot like you?”
Tyghan glanced down, trying to restrain a smile, but sewed on a sour face when he looked back up. “I’m a coddling nursemaid compared to my brother.”
“So you say. I’m not convinced.” She sat down next to him. “I guess I’ll find out once we rescue him.”
“Assuming we do.”
She sighed, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the dismal odds or his dismal attitude, but she rolled past it. “So, continue. Tell me more about your family.”
And he did.
