42. FORTY-TWO
FORTY-TWO
Mina
Imiss the desert, especially the moment after the sun sets when the air cools but the sand is still toasty. That frozen place in time between day and night, the sky the same lovely purple as my amethyst.
I could lie on the rapidly cooling dunes for hours, watching the stars paint the sky in their brilliance.
Lying here with Darius summons the same contentment. I slide my leg over his, snuggling into his side, and watch the steady rise and fall of his chest.
I time my breaths with his, but my heart continues to flutter violently. Darius feels like home—warm and safe. Even when he’s being deliciously rough in bed, I feel secure. A sense of belonging.
Loved.
I swallow a wave of unease. As soon as the thought escapes, I know it is true. I fell for him despite my best efforts to guard my heart. He may be ruthless and cunning and deadly, but he’s also gentle and considerate. His strength and confidence repaired some of the damage to my soul.
He was only supposed to be a tool for my revenge, but now the idea of losing him too terrifies me.
“Care to share some of that weight?” Darius’s voice is rough with sleep, and the deep timbre makes my stomach flutter.
I chew my lip as I debate how much to share. I settle on the most immediate worry. “Zala won’t give up so easily.”
He rolls on his side to face me without releasing the arm holding me against him. “We already knew that.”
I nod, my face inches from his. “There are only two ways that I’d be able to marry Zala. File an absolution with you and return home. An option we just refused.” I can’t stop my hands from trembling as I rest them on his chest. “Or your death.”
I expect worry to erase his laid-back expression, but he smirks, covering my hand with his. “I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”
Frustration bleeds through my words. “He won’t stop coming for me. Which means he will come for you.”
He shrugs, bringing our lips together. I melt into the kiss, letting the warmth spread like a balm on my nerves.
“Let him come,” Darius says, tracing my jaw slowly. “What happened to our families... Neither of us is going to let that happen again.”
His conviction eases some of the fear plaguing my mind. I blink back tears of relief and nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his cedar scent. He pulls me tightly against him as proof of his words.
We are here—solid and safe.
For now.
“Unscheduled stops are dangerous,” Darius whispers as we take our seats.
A mismatched collection of wooden tables and chairs fills a field of wildflowers.
Farmers from the countryside bring snacks for our entire encampment.
Jams and fresh bread, pastries filled with fruit and nuts.
The spread is more heartwarming and impressive than any formal dinners we’ve attended so far.
“Unscheduled stops are strategic,” I counter.
Staefan already gave me an earful, but farmers are just as important to this empire as cities. I want to see how these people live too.
Besides, the day is cool from yesterday’s rain, leaving a clear sky and gentle breeze. Not stopping to relax and enjoy it would be a crime.
Throwing off Zala’s shadows is just a perk.
“I’d be honored if you would share this recipe,” Kailani says, leaning forward to address one of the farmers sitting farther down the chaotic table. I got a taste of her baking prowess before we left and look forward to trying more of her recipes one day.
“Of course, my lady. I’ll have my wife write it down before you leave.” His leathery cheeks flush.
“Thank you,” I add. “Lady Kailani is quite an accomplished baker. A recipe for her is a gift for us all.”
All but Darius laugh in good spirits. The pie is indeed incredible, sweet then tart. I might have eaten the whole thing myself if I wasn’t so eager to try all the treats. Darius nibbles on each item before passing them to me, a silent guard.
One of the farmers stops to talk to Staefan about an issue with wild boars venturing out of the forest. A mess of red curls peeks out from behind his sun-worn pants. Pale blue eyes study the glittering barrette holding my hair up.
I wiggle my fingers to get the little girl’s attention, waving her over. She shakes her head and disappears behind her father once again.
“She’s a bit shy,” he explains sheepishly. “Ophelia, honey. Go greet Her Majesty.”
Ophelia tiptoes to my side and curtsies so deep she nearly falls forward. I reach out to steady her with a laugh.
“I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Ophelia. I love your hair.”
The wind blows a few stray locks into her face. She quickly pushes them back with a wide smile. “Thank you! My mommy says it’s a pain to brush.”
Kailani joins us, pointing to her own curls with a laugh. “I understand her pain. Would you like me to braid it back for you?”
Ophelia nods and spins around. Kailani makes quick work of her unruly curls, taming them into a thick cord before turning to me. “What do you think, Queen Mina?”
I study Ophelia with a frown. “I feel like it’s missing something…” I pull the sapphire clip from my hair and secure it at the top of her braid.
Her blue eyes go wide, and she runs to show her father with an excited squeal.
“Your Majesty, this is too much.”
Ophelia tugs at his pants. “No! Ophelia looks like a princess now too!”
I laugh. “It’s quite all right. Consider it a thank you for such a warm welcome. I plan on leaving behind a few gifts anyway, but this one is all yours, Ophelia.”
“Thank you!” She hops up and down. “Can I show Mommy?” The sight leaves an ache in my chest, stealing my breath for a moment.
“Papa, it’s too big,” I complain as the crown slides over my head like a necklace. He sets me on his knee; his deep laugh tickles my cheek.
“I should hope so. I prefer you stay little for a while longer.”
I am not little. I am the tallest in my class. Mother’s crown fits Astrella already, and I am nearly as big. I’m about to point out that fact when Fareena runs up with a tiara of reeds and flowers.
“Here. This one should fit, Mimi.”
I trace the woven crown, bewildered. I wiggle for Papa to let me down and toss Mother’s crown at him. “I want to make you one too!”
Fareena grabs my hand, and we race to the lakeshore to gather materials, laughing as we slip on the sand.
I would happily trade all the jewels and titles for that flower crown. For those moments back. Tears sting my eyes as I smile at the picturesque family before me.
Ophelia’s father bows, patting her little head. “We’ll take our leave. May the sun shine warmly on your travels and marriage.”
Darius surprises us all by shaking the man’s hand. “We’ll pack up and take our leave as well.” He turns to address the crowd. “Thank you all for your hospitality. Long trips are quite stuffy, and your company was a breath of fresh air.”
His words are kind, but his face gives nothing away. The families are captivated nonetheless. They gather empty plates and carry chairs back to their respective homes or carts.
We head toward the caravan, but I instruct Lady Elena to select a few items to leave behind as a thank-you. She was visibly uncomfortable with the lunch and deserves to spend some extra time among our hosts. Hopefully the interaction will thaw her prejudice.
The others give Darius and me a little space as we pick our path through the flowers, the yellow and purple blooms tickling my calves. Darius weaves his fingers through mine and squeezes gently, his brown eyes warm with understanding.
“Memories only bring us closer to them,” he whispers.
By now I shouldn’t be surprised that he noticed my unshed tears, the subtle shift in the happy front I present to others. I lean my head on his shoulder, enjoying the sun and sky and the intoxicating aroma of florals. If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend I am back home.
“Does it ever get easier?” I ask.
His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of my hand. “I wish I could tell you it does. That completing my revenge brought peace. But the grief never lessens; we just grow around it.”
I think I understand. The same grief that moored me in darkness a few months ago has lengthened its chain, allowing me to move a little further from the pain.
I peer up at the man partially responsible for that change, and my heart flutters. A peace I have no right to feel washes over me.
Darius calls for our horses instead of the carriage we rode in all morning. He flashes me a devious smile.
“Are you able to ride after last night? A day this nice seems wasted indoors,” he says, quoting my logic from earlier, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.
My core clenches at the memory of my knees hooked on his shoulders. His pace slow and torturous, pulling me apart over and over until I begged for a reprieve.
Riding a horse will be a little rough, but I’m not about to admit that to Darius. His ego needs no boost.
I rise up on my toes, stealing a quick kiss. “I’ll manage.”
I mount my saddle, the hot leather stinging my thighs for a moment. I ride alongside Darius to the front of the caravan. The guards keep a tight formation but maintain enough distance for us to talk freely or maneuver to escape if needed. Not that either of us would ever back down from a fight.
My thighs quiver, and I shift back on my tailbone to alleviate the pressure. A natural position on horseback to everyone but Darius.
His lips tip up in a barely restrained smile as he pretends to study the path ahead.
Cocky bastard. We’ll see who has the last laugh later tonight when he goes to bed alone.