Chapter 23
Lark
The day after our final performance, the cottage is quieter than usual. No rehearsals, no gremlins, no shouts over messes or missing boots. Should I be suspicious?
Katja, Val, and the twins have claimed the kitchen table, papers spread between them as they plot out a new play for the queen’s attendance at the Trade Light festival.
The festival once marked the thaw and the start of trade season.
Now, towns cling to it for cheer, even with the routes permanently snowed in.
Aili is drawing costumes in the margins of Katja’s drafts. The twins are arguing over whether we should use a dragon or a troll this time. Helkki is hanging upside down from the top of the bookcase, calling out random lines of dialogue.
What a beautiful, normal afternoon.
At the table, Val fits in with the others like she always belonged here.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her bright smile as she listens to all the little beasties’ ideas and offers her own thoughts here and there.
The longer she’s with us, the more I catch myself watching how she shines.
I love seeing her like this. And that kiss! Drowning Deep, that kiss.
It has played on repeat in my mind every time I have a moment to myself. I still want her with the same fervor, but between Val coming home late and having a sleeping toddler in the room, we've settled for a few stolen kisses and some cuddling as she falls asleep in my arms.
Today, though, I have to turn away. My gaze finds Mikael in the armchair, his mug of steaming tea in one hand and Eevi propped in the other, and I know I can’t get lost in Val right now.
A sigh passes my lips. I have to focus on the full moon in two nights before worrying about the Trade Light festival.
It would be nice to spend a full moon revel dancing with Val, seeing all my beasties’ joy at the fun and food. But Mika and I will have to disappear, same as always.
I hate keeping more secrets, but I’ve kept his condition safe this long for good reason. The princess hiding at my table doesn’t need to know what happens to my sweet-tempered boy when the moon is full.
That night, I broach the topic.
“Mika and I have a boys’ night every full moon,” I say, easing into bed beside her.
She looks over, curious. “It’s our tradition, just the two of us.
I’m not comfortable letting the other kids attend the full moon revels without me, so normally they have to stay home.
But if you’re willing, I thought maybe you could take them this time?
Daria says the town has a big revel in the market square. ”
“You want me to take them?”
“They would love it.” I nudge her shoulder. “You mentioned you used to enjoy full moon revels. The dancing. The sunrise pastries.”
She smiles, slow and thoughtful. “I did. Once.”
“Then go enjoy one again. The kids adore you, and it’ll be full of people in costumes and masks. You’ll be safe from huntsmen.”
“You’re sure you and Mika can’t come, too?”
“Not this time. But I trust you with them.”
Her eyes soften. “Thank you, Lark. That means a lot. I’d love to take them.”
It’s a simple agreement, but it knocks something loose in my chest. She’s always offering more of herself. And here I am, selfish enough to want it all.
She tilts her head, studying me. “How do you trust me this much when we’ve only known each other a few sennights?”
“I know enough.”
I want to know more. Of course I do. I want to learn everything there is about her, from how she smells after a rainstorm to how to make her shiver under my touch.
I yearn for the day when she could tell me honestly about her life growing up in the palace, her favorite memories with her father, or what she liked to do when the weather was warm.
What does a princess do for outdoor fun?
I want her walls down so badly I’ll scale them brick by brick if I have to, digging out the mortar with my fingernails. For now, though, I know enough.
She looks less sure.
“I know your heart is good,” I assure her, “and that you care about the people under this roof. I know I like the way the tightness in my chest unwinds around you.” My voice dips.
“You soften the restlessness that’s always nipping at my heels.
You give me something to look forward to in each new day, just imagining what new thing I might discover about you.
So yes, I know enough. And I trust what I see. ”
Her breath catches, her eyes searching mine for something I’m not sure I should let her find.
Before I can think better of it, I lean in to brush my lips against hers. She kisses me back, sure and sweet, steadier than I expect. My hands cup her face so I can taste every bit of her kiss.
Practice…rehearsal…call it whatever you like. For me, nothing is pretend. I want her for real, with a passion as shocking as it is sudden.
It’s dangerous, this feeling. It should terrify me.
But I don’t stop.
Instead, we hold each other in the warmth, her hands brushing mine, our lips and tongues tangling as one.
Our ‘practicing’ goes on and on until I’m aching for her in a way she can’t miss with her body pressed hard against mine.
It’s supposed to be preparation for a performance, but if any sentry shows up now looking for a man besotted and half in love, they’ll find the real thing.
No problem.