Page 43 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

Startled, my eyes fly to Lawrence’s brow. And would you look at that—the captain is right. It’s faint, but it’s there.

With a smug smile, Caldwell walks away, hopefully to relieve Bartholomew of his navigational duties.

“That was surprisingly astute of the man,” Lawrence says with a frown, rubbing his forehead.

I step forward to brush some of Lawrence’s hair over his brow, but that only causes the long, light coppery length of it to fall in his face. “Have you considered bangs, Your Highness?”

“Have you considered what it does to my heart when you stand this close?”

His meaningless banter has never bothered me, but this time, I pause, leaving him to brush the hair back himself.

“Did you mean it?” I ask, setting my hands on my hips because I suddenly don’t know what to do with them.

“About my heart?” He laughs to himself. “I’m afraid I’m notthateasily affected. But if you’ve made the quickening of my pulse your goal, I can suggest several activities that are more promising.”

“When you said you intend to marry me.”

Lawrence frowns at me with his chestnut eyes, and it bothers me that I can’t read him like I usually can. “Who else would I marry?”

“Someone you’re fond of?”

“I’m fond of you, Clover.”

“As if I am your sister,” I say, frustrated.

He shakes his head. “No, that cannot be it. I have one of those and have come to the conclusion they’re most unpleasant things.”

I laugh despite myself.

“You’re not like a sister to me, Clover.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re my…I don’t know. My Clover.” Lawrence's mouth quirks up on one side. “And since I have thought of kissing you a time or two or twenty, I can assure you we don’t have any sort of sibling relationship.”

“Stop it,” I growl. “I’m serious.”

Lawrence raises his brows as he turns to leave. “Who said I wasn’t?”

“Yes, well. Is there any unwed woman you haven’t thought of kissing?”

He pauses as if to think about it. “Is the unwed part a limitation?”

“You’re a toad.”

He laughs again, but then his expression becomes solemn. Gently taking my arm, Lawrence steps in and lowers his voice. “Yes, I’ve had my fun, and I encourage you to have yours, too. Soon, I will have you for my bride, and then we’ll be stuck with each other. Because I am determined to be faithful to you, I expect that courtesy in return. So, if there is something—orsomeone—you want, take it now. I won’t hold it against you.”

One moment, we’re having a perfectly normal conversation, and the next, Lawrence has flipped my world on its head.

“What are you saying?” I breathe.

Lawrence’s expression softens. “For a few more days, you and Henrik are free. He’s not promised to my sister yet—Camellia is simply the prize Father has dangled in front of him. But as soon as he rescues her from Auggy the Short’s clutches, he will be bound, and you will have lost your chance.”

“Lawrence…”

“I’ve resigned myself to the fact that you like him,” he says gently. “Even if you’re lying to yourself, don’t try to deny it to me. I know you too well.”

“It doesn’t matter if I like him. It’s not as if I can change—what are you doing?”

---