Chapter 27
Nia
“A DUCHESS AND A PRINCE SITTING UNDER A TREE…” —MESSY_IVY
The canal was calm at this hour, the water reflecting the low-hanging sun in ripples of gold and amber. The air carried the faint scent of blooming jasmine, mixing with the warm tang of Nia’s steak and cheese sub, which was perched on her lap.
She sat in her fresh clothes on a thick blanket Lochlan had grabbed, now spread under an ancient oak tree. A short way behind her, half-hidden by wild ivy and stone, lay one of the town’s many secret tunnel entrances, the same one they had emerged from not long ago.
It was a strange thing to reconcile—how assertive and provocative Lochlan had been in her office, yet how reserved and sweet he was now. She glanced his way as he stood near the water’s edge, tossing small, red bits to the ducks bobbing nearby.
When he wandered back, the lazy smile on his face was enough to make her pulse stutter. She nodded toward the bag in his hand, curious. “What were those?”
“Freeze-dried strawberries.”
She frowned. “Ducks like strawberries?”
“They like pretty much anything.”
“Huh,” she said, taking a bite of her sub. “I didn’t know that. And you just… carry dried strawberries in your bag for the local ducks?”
“Ah, no.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Those are my ducks.”
“You have ducks?” She blinked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “We haven’t exactly told each other much, Nia.”
That stung. She realized it was true, and hated how selfish she felt for never asking more about his life. “Well,” she said, trying to make up for it, “tell me about the ducks.”
He nodded toward the canal where the three of them floated. “Taco’s the black one. He was my first. I found him near one of the beaches with a broken wing right before winter hit. Celia’s the orange one, and Cynthia’s the brown. Taco and I raised them from eggs.”
“Eggs?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He leaned back against the tree, gazing at the water.
“A few years ago, I was consulting on a dig site for the town. They’d unearthed some tombs and the area was a mess.
Trees ripped apart, nests destroyed. I found a clutch of eggs in the remains of a nest—three of them had broken, but two were still whole.
I waited for the mother to come back, but she never did. So I brought them home.”
“And Taco helped raise them?”
“Yeah. I guess he figured since I took care of him, he’d pass on the favor.”
“But he’s a boy,” Nia said, frowning.
“Meaning he can’t be motherly?” Lochlan gave her a pointed look.
Her lips pressed together. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He smirked but didn’t push further. “They live in the greenhouse,” he said. “They eat bugs in the mornings, and when they want, they use a magical doggy door to swim in the canal. Jade likes hanging out with them.”
Nia felt a fresh pang of guilt. She hadn’t even asked to see the greenhouse. It felt like a piece of him she’d ignored. Now that her new magic had grown, she could almost sense it—the life and warmth of it calling to her. “Can I see it?” she asked.
He looked at her, surprised. Then he smiled. “Of course.”
They walked along the canal. The ducks followed in the water, quacking softly, their tails wagging. The setting sun bathed the path in gold, and Nia’s heart felt lighter as they crossed a small bridge. Lochlan slowed, his expression tight, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
“What?” she asked, a flicker of worry tightening her chest. “Is it whatever happened before… what made you want a distraction?”
He hesitated, then gave her a faint smile. “You mean what happened before I ruined your very pretty clothes?”
She grinned, trying to ease his nerves. “It was a good kind of ruin,” she said, nudging his arm. “But yeah, it was unexpected.”
Lochlan exhaled sharply, his shoulders sinking. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I liked it. A lot, actually.” Her cheeks warmed as she said it, but she pressed on. “But I am curious about why you seemed… different.”
“It wasn’t fair to you,” he said, his voice low. “I was wound up, upset, tense. I took that tension out on you. Not in a bad way, but…” His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “You deserved better.”
She touched his arm, her fingers light. “Better than that?”
He gave her a hesitant smile.
“Lochlan, I’m here, okay? Just maybe let me in on what’s going on next time.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good,” she said. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”
He hesitated, his fingers curling slightly around hers. “My brother stopped by.”
“Your brother?” she asked, startled. “The crown prince?”
“Yeah,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s been eight years.”
“That’s… a long time.” She studied his face, looking for clues to his mood. “How did it go?”
Lochlan shrugged in a way that seemed more habit than actual indifference. “It wasn’t the worst visit, but it wasn’t the best either.”
Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean? Lochlan, come on, he’s your brother.”
“Half-brother,” Lochlan said. “We share a mother.”
She hesitated. “I didn’t think princes just stop by for visits like that. I mean… you’re a prince too, but… goddess. I’m rambling. Wait—was he mean to you?”
Her body went rigid, her mind racing. If his brother had hurt him, she’d—
“You make everything better,” Lochlan interrupted, his voice soft.
A small smile graced his lips before it faded.
His gaze shifted past her, and she turned to follow it.
Far off, a cluster of men stood near the edge of a property across the water, their figures indistinct in the fading light.
They weren’t talking. Just standing there.
A chill crept up her spine.
“Let’s go inside,” she said, voice steady. “Show me the greenhouse.”
He led her to the back and opened a vintage glass door, its surface fogged.
Warm, humid air enveloped them, carrying the scent of damp earth and thriving plants.
The ducks waddled past them, their little feet slapping against the floor as they greeted Jade with cheerful quacks, nibbles, and tail wags.
Nia’s eyes darted around the space, taking in the haven Lochlan had built. Fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the lush greenery. Plants were everywhere—vines draped from shelves, flowers bloomed in hanging baskets, and rare herbs thrived in carefully arranged pots.
Against one wall sat a wooden duck cottage, complete with a ramp leading to the raised floor. Nearby, a couple of wicker dog beds were scattered, each piled high with plush bedding.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She reached out to touch the delicate leaves of a nearby plant, feeling the life humming through it. Her connection to Lochlan’s magic let her sense the care and energy he’d poured into this place.
“The ducks like it,” he said with a small smile. “And so does Jade.” His dog was now curled up on one of the beds, eyeing Taco and Celia lazily as they waddled around.
“You created a haven,” she said, turning to him.
He shrugged, glancing around. “I needed somewhere to put all of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the plants. “It just… came together.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “Would you ever want to create something bigger?”
Lochlan’s gaze flicked to hers, and for a moment, a shadow crossed his face. “I don’t know,” he said after a pause.
She wanted to press, but something in his expression stopped her. “Sorry,” she said instead. “I don’t want to push. I just—after that harvest, I wished we’d had your help sooner.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said taking a deep breath. “My brother stopping by has me revisiting a lot of old wounds.”
Lochlan led her to a small outdoor kitchen area, where they sat down. Nia was quiet, sensing he needed space to share at his own pace. Jade left her duck-watching perch and jumped onto the chair beside him, resting her head in his lap. Lochlan rubbed her ears absentmindedly.
“My father passed away thirteen years ago,” he said quietly. “Five years after that, I left Dover.”
“I’m so sorry,” Nia said.
“Thank you. It was hard without him. I tried to adjust, but…” He paused, his hand stilling on Jade’s fur. “That was when it came out I was the result of a royal affair. Suddenly, I wasn’t just Lochlan—I was a prince, thrown into this life of titles and duties I never wanted.”
She reached for his hand, and he gave her a small, grateful squeeze before continuing.
“There was one place I could escape to—an atrium greenhouse my ancestors built, the same one my father worked in. It was filled with life. Plants everywhere, like this, only on a much grander scale. I could hide there, get away from the cruelty of my sister, the distant coldness of my mother.”
His fingers tensed slightly against Jade’s fur. “Thane—my brother—was never unfair to me. He just… wasn’t there. He had his own responsibilities, especially after his own father passed. Maybe we could have been closer, if I hadn’t been hidden away for so long before being thrown into their lives.”
He paused again, taking a deep breath. “Eight years ago, my sister, Drusilla, snapped. She burned the greenhouse to the ground.”
Nia’s heart ached for him. She could tell there was more, but didn’t push.
Lochlan’s gaze drifted toward the flickering lanterns along the garden path.
“She found me that night. Cornered me, like she always did, throwing words like knives, cutting deep because she could. I ran to the greenhouse, where I always went when I needed a refuge. But this time she followed.” His jaw clenched.
“She didn’t just want to hurt me. She wanted to destroy something I loved. ”
Nia stayed silent, her stomach twisting.
“She ripped the orchids from the trees. Pulled vines down like they were weeds. Then she set it all on fire.” His voice was flat, but something in it sent a chill down Nia’s spine.
“Thane tried to stop her, but it was too late. The fire spread too fast. It climbed the walls, scorched through everything, filling the air with smoke so thick I could barely breathe.” His fingers curled into his lap.
“I tried to save what I could. I wasn’t thinking.
I just—I had to save something. The orchids, my father’s book of pressed herbs, anything. ”
Lochlan closed his eyes.
“The fire didn’t care. It crawled up my legs, burned through my clothes, my skin—”
He stopped. But Nia didn’t need him to finish; she’d seen his scars.
“Thane pulled me out.” The words were quiet. “I don’t even remember him grabbing me. One second, I was running through fire. The next, I was outside on my back, choking on smoke, my legs burning, the greenhouse collapsing in front of me.”
His grip on Jade’s fur loosened and he exhaled slowly.
“I fought him.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I tried to get back in. He held me down, told me to stop.” Lochlan looked at her then, his golden-brown eyes darker in the dim light. “I left a few days later and never looked back.”
A lump formed in Nia’s throat. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say?
“And your brother just stopped by to say hi?” Her tone was dry, laced with disbelief.
“No.” Lochlan sighed. “He asked me to come back to Dover.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Anger surged through Nia, but she kept it in check. How dare his brother ask him to go back to a place that had caused him so much pain?
And worse—what if he did go?
The thought left her unsettled in ways she didn’t want to name.
Jade suddenly jumped off the chair, chasing after the ducks as they waddled toward their little cottage. Nia stood and moved to Lochlan, straddling his lap before he could say a word. She brushed his hair back, her fingers soft and gentle.
His eyes darkened, his breath hitching. “Nia…”
She kissed him once, then pressed her lips to his cheek, his neck. The scent of him—mixed with her own—was intoxicating. Beneath it was that underlying sweetness, it made her want to taste him.
“Do you need a distraction?” she whispered.
His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer. “I need you.”