Chapter 59 Isi
ISI
Iwoke to the scent of honey and tea.
Soft light spilled through the window, hitting the rumpled sheets tangled around me. Trew stood near the bed, shirtless, a tray balanced in his hands and a big old satisfied grin on his face.
“Good morning, Minx,” he said. “I would’ve let you rest longer, but Betina insisted these are best while warm.”
I blinked, momentarily dazed by the sight of my man marked by old scars, his hair tousled, his eyes alight like the prettiest sunrise. “You brought me breakfast?”
“I did,” he said solemnly, as though it were an act of royal importance. “Your bravery in battle earned it.”
I snorted. “So did yours.”
“Mine comes with the privilege of feeding my favorite person in the whole world.” He sat on the edge of the bed, setting the tray beside me. He patted his lap. “Come here.”
I arched a brow. “You expect me to eat from there?”
He leaned close, his voice dropping to a teasing rasp. “I expect you to obey your king.”
I gasped in mock offense, then climbed into his lap, careful not to upset the tray. His arms wrapped around me.
“This is absurdly comfortable,” I said, shifting enough to make him groan. “Maybe I’ll never sit in a chair again.”
“Careful.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You might start a royal scandal.”
“Because the king’s feeding his queen?”
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
His voice softened. “Is that what you’d call yourself now?”
Heat climbed my neck. “If the throne fits.”
“It does. Perfectly.”
The silence between us hung thick and sweet.
He picked up a small pastry and held it out to me. “Try this. It’s my favorite.”
I took a bite, sugar melting on my tongue. “Mmm. I see why.” I chose a slice of pear, holding it to his lips. He took it slowly, his teeth grazing my fingertips enough to send a tremor through me.
“Behave,” I said. “Or I’ll spill tea on your royal lap.”
“Tempting.” He licked a trace of sugar from his thumb. “Would you lick it off?”
“Most definitely.”
We traded bites and teasing words.
He told me about his disastrous first attempt to bake as a boy. “Betina still won’t forgive me for the flour incident.”
I confessed to sneaking out of the castle—with Addie urging me on—to stride through the marketplace. That day, we’d pretended to be simple village girls. I’d never had more fun.
By the time we finished, laughter had loosened something inside me I hadn’t realized I still held tight. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world wasn’t pressing down on me. I leaned into him, resting my cheek on his shoulder, his fingers creating lazy circles on my back.
“Let’s spend the day together,” he said into my hair. “I’ll make the world wait.”
“As kingly decrees go, that might be your best one yet.”
He tumbled me down onto the bed and made love to me.
Later, we dressed slowly, unable to stop touching. Fingers brushed shoulders, kisses soon followed.
It took a long time to put on enough clothing we were safe to leave the room.
Taking my hand, he led me through a series of corridors until the castle’s stone gave way to green. The moment we stepped through the warded arch, the air changed, becoming richer, more alive. Everywhere hummed with his magic.
His garden. The camellias glowed even brighter than before, their petals shimmering with dew. Bees drifted lazily between blossoms.
He looked around with quiet pride. “I haven’t weeded for too long, but they still look decent.”
“They knew their gardener would come back.”
“Do you think they missed me?”
“I think they missed us,” I said, running my fingers across a stem.
We spent hours there. Talking, teasing, sometimes saying nothing at all. He spread a blanket beneath the boughs of a silverleaf tree, where the air smelled of nectar and rain. The world felt impossibly far away.
At some point, his hand found mine. His thumb brushed over the inside of my wrist, tracing my pulse. “Do you think we were meant to end up here?”
“Yes. Even if everything had gone differently, I think I would have still found my way to you.”
He looked at me, his eyes shimmering gold. “You’re my peace, Isi.”
And for the rest of the day, peace was all we knew.
We dozed in the shade, woke to soft kisses and laughter, and wandered among the flowers.
When evening came, he conjured lantern light to guide us back to the castle and we went to the kitchen together, collecting a simple meal of bread, cheese, and honeyed fruit. We ate cross-legged on our bed, stealing bites from each other’s plates, laughing when crumbs caught in his stubble.
It felt like the world had folded small enough to hold just us.
“I could get used to this,” I said, feeding him the last bit of bread.
“You’re a terrible influence on my discipline.” He released a mock sigh.
“Good. You could use a little more chaos.”
“Then stay,” he said simply. “Stay and be my chaos forever.”
I took in his eyes softened by firelight, the curve of his mouth gentle and content. “I want that more than anything, love.”
As night deepened, I crawled into his lap and kissed him, and the rest of the world fell away.
The firelight turned our shadows gold on the wall, and for a time, there was no past or future, only now.
Later, tangled in warmth and sleep, I listened to his breathing even out. His arm lay heavy around my waist, his hand curled protectively at my hip. I lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles.
I didn’t dream of battles or blood.
I dreamed of loving this man for the rest of my life.
I thought I imagined the knock at first. But it came again, firmer the second time.
Trew stirred beside me, murmuring something incoherent before settling back into sleep. I hesitated, reluctant to move, the warmth of his arms incredibly soothing.
The knock came once more.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped from the bed, the cool air kissing my skin where his warmth had so recently touched. I reached for a robe, tying it around me, my heart still light from the day we’d shared.
The knock came again, sharper this time.
And with it, the first threads of dread curled through my chest.