Chapter 51 #2
“I’ve never been out of Ferntree before, but I dreamed of it. I’ve always known I was meant for somewhere else, but I’ve never been able to picture where. It will be good to finally fulfill the role I’ve been given.”
“There’s more to life than serving a role. There’s art and music, good food and great friends.”
“Love?” I risk.
“The richest of spoils. Is it not something you seek?”
Difficult to seek that which you’ve already found.
“At present, I’m pursuing more attainable things.”
In my peripheral vision, I see his head turn, but I keep my eyes on the quickly evaporating horizon, the full force of his attention too much for me to face.
“I hope you won’t mind my company in the meantime.”
“I’m glad for it,” I admit, realizing how true the words are as they leave me.
Days ago, I knew nothing but rumor of this man, and I wrongly expected him to be a mystery to me. Yet there’s no veil between him and the world. What he feels is open for all to see.
It’s surprising, and already, I find myself hungry for more.
“Have you always felt an affinity for sailing?” I ask.
“Yes. My father wanted me to learn the value of contribution. No one person above any other. Everyone works in unison toward shared goals. I’ve learned from blacksmiths and cooks, painters and helmsmen.”
“I imagine you’ve seen wondrous things.”
“Nothing so beautiful as home,” he says, facing the shadow of the city, which looms large in the distance.
If not for the many lights painting the dark, I’d have no idea it was there.
“But the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that home is not a place, but people.
I have many companions in Chance, but I have been lacking in anyone to call my own. ”
Briefly, he shifts his gaze over my shoulder, where Sterling’s voice carries on the breeze.
Lucky returns his eyes to mine, bringing my hand to his lips. “Which is why I’m so grateful you’re here.”
* * *
We dock by midmorn.
Chance is as beautiful as Lucky promised, white rock rising triumphant from the blazing blue sea. The city climbs the land surrounding the cove. It’s vibrant, an explosion of color and culture and life.
He calls out greetings to the workers who meet us, and they laugh and call back. The sun bathes Lucky in its glow, doing its best to make him even handsomer. It barely needs to try.
At its peak stands the castle. On the way here, Lucky explained that though he retains his royal title, it’s an honorary one, as the city governs itself.
The castle itself has been turned into communal housing, but he was gifted the highest floor of the east wing for himself, including three bedrooms, two sitting rooms, and a study.
“Although the study is off-limits for now,” he says as he waves us past the closed door. “A little light remodeling I’m doing, but it will be ready soon.”
We end the tour at my bedroom, a bright, airy room that faces his own. A vase of yellow blossoms sits by my bedside, and I don’t know how he did it, but it had to have been Lucky.
Sterling’s room is one door down—awfully convenient for my plans.
Sterling says nothing as he leaves. It’s clear his intent is to hurt Lucky, and Sterling might not see the attack land, but I do.
I lay my hand on Lucky’s arm. “I wanted to thank you. I know the situation isn’t … ideal, but I want us to be friends.” All of us. “You know, I’ve never been married before, but so far, I like it. You make it something to look forward to.”
We are both still caked in layers of salt and dirt and days at sea, but none of it dulls the fire in his touch as he takes my hand in his and presses a tender kiss to my knuckles.
“It is I who needs to thank you. I’d accepted that love was a thing of my past, and I left it there, content to give my all to my work.
But then I met you, and I see that love is not so far out of reach.
It is surprising and unpredictable, and I mean to cherish it. ”
I know now how Sterling fell for him. It’s easy. Lucky makes it easy.
My motivations for being here have not changed, but there are new motivations now, layered overtop or perhaps weaved underneath. A history I have stumbled upon and now play part in crushing beneath my feet.
It is too late to salvage my own heartbreak, but that does not mean there is no hope to restore the love Lucky and Sterling once had and will have again.
* * *
The next morning, Lucky greets me with flowers. “These are only one of the blooms local to this area. They are a family emblem.”
“Sweet Williams,” I answer, recognizing them from my research. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. I have nothing to gift you in return.”
“Your company is gift enough.”
There’s a disgruntled sound from the door, revealed to be Sterling when Lucky turns. He stares at the flowers in Lucky’s hands, averting his eyes when I take them from him and set them by the window.
“I was hoping you’d like to walk with me.”
“Very much so.”
No one asks Sterling if he’d like to come, but we don’t need to; he follows anyway, keeping close enough that he must overhear every word we share, although he never offers anything of his own.
I’m set to finally confront his childishness when a much older man calls out to him from a large drawing room.
“Emile Jackson,” Lucky whispers in my ear.
Ah. Emile is dressed impeccably, his beard a shock of white against his navy tunic.
“Sterling! I thought that was you. Come, come. I need to borrow your brain.”
Nothing happens for a moment. I know Sterling heard him, but he isn’t moving. Well, unless you count the glare he’s directing toward Lucky and me. I say nothing, but I hook my hand into the crook of Lucky’s arm and smile sweetly.
Sterling’s eyes flare in frustration. Then I blink, and he’s gone, following the voice into the drawing room, leaving silence in his wake.
“Finally, we’re alone,” Lucky whispers conspiratorially. “Shall we get up to mischief now that we are unsupervised?”
It sends a giddy warmth through me, and I find it’s easy to agree. Lucky’s idea of mischief is little more than entering the kitchen in search of cake, but it’s rich with cinnamon and absolutely heavenly.
With our bellies full, we venture outdoors to the southeast courtyard, where I finally beg Lucky for a rest.
He lights up. “Perfect. I have a surprise for you.”
It’s impossible to not want to follow him when he smiles at me like that.
He leads me back to the study. “Close your eyes,” he says, and with a thrill, I do.
There’s the creak of a door, and …
“Open.”
Oh my.
From the wooden desk to the soft drapes to the candles, he’s thought of everything. He even hung the map he’d gifted me on the wall. I could very well be transported back home, standing here. And the books … oh, the books. More than I have ever owned. More than I can count.
How did he …
“Do you like it?” he asks.
Yes, I think, looking at him. I really do.
It’s a wonder.
I’m curious about the effort he is going to. Flowers, flirtation. We’re already wed. I’m flattered, truly, but confused.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were courting me. Yet we both know your heart lies elsewhere.”
He gathers my hand in his—always touching so gently—admiring it while he speaks. “I often thought myself ill-formed in pursuits of love, as there always seemed room within me for more than one.”
My heart excites.
“Would it be so difficult to feel affection for me?” he asks.
Not in the least. I wonder, too, about my ability to love more than one.
“It is not difficult at all,” I admit.
He smells of salt and sun, and I step closer. Close enough for him not to mistake my intention.
It has been all too simple to fall now that I think of it. Easy as breathing.
His lips welcome mine eagerly, the sound of my gasp lost between breaths. I’m weightless, a bundle of nerves alight by his presence, his touch. It’s different from what I feel for Sterling, but not lesser. Lighter. The ember of something I already know will grow into more.
The door slams shut, and we tear apart. Sterling is standing there, a mixture of heat and anger in his eyes.
“What cruel plan was this? To demand my presence here, only to watch you take what is left of my heart and crush it?”
I hardly know which of us he’s talking to or about.
Lucky steps between us. “Then you admit you love her?”
“Of course I do,” he roars. “How dare you act as if you have not been aware of that since you walked back into my life? To what end was this destined for? If you meant to kill me without a blade, then congratulations; you’ve managed it.”
He stumbles back as I crash into him, pushing against his chest with both hands. He steps back, never stopping me, letting me take it out on him. How could he? And he knew how I felt. He knew, and he said nothing.
I should carve out his stubborn heart.
He hits the door with a thud. My breath rushes from me, and I follow, clinging to his tunic, crushing our chests together.
“I hope you are not dead because you have brought me back to life.”
Where the kiss with Lucky was tender, soft, this is brutal. Devastating. This—this—is all I’ve wanted. All I’ve desired and never thought possible. I tried in vain to not imagine it, but no dream could ever match the reality.
Sterling holds me tightly to him, his grip strong and sure, his lips devouring my own.
We’re separated by a throat clearing.
“I must apologize for my meddling,” Lucky says. “But I couldn’t let another day pass without you finding out how we both feel about you.”
It’s unbearably sweet.
“You fulfilled your promise,” I tell him and beckon him closer.
It’s Sterling who takes his hand. “I am sorry for hurting you. Again.”
Lucky brings his palm to his lips. “Make it the last time and promise to love us as we deserve, and I’ll forgive you.” He winks at me. “We both will.”
My knees weaken as Sterling smiles. Fortunately, he’s holding me up.
“I promise.”
THE END
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