Chapter 9
Nine
Jasyn was in a sour mood. He had told Mych he and Esi would head to whatever destination she had planned for them alone. His friend just laughed in his face. Bron’s refusal had been extra vocal, an ‘outrageous and dangerous idea,’ as he put it.
As they all walked to town—a request made by Esi that he would never deny her—he noticed Bron more on edge than usual.
Or, at least, his eyes never seemed to stray far from Esi for even a second.
Of course, he wondered if there was any unrequited love there, but the way he looked at Esi was like she was a cannon ready to shoot at any moment, not someone he yearned for.
Luckily, the two guards gave them enough space to speak privately, likely Mych’s doing. He would need to thank the man later.
“Do you ever get bored of the sun?” Esi asked as she leaned her head back, soaking in the light. He had his arm linked with hers to ensure she didn’t bump into anything.
“You’re like a sundrop,” he replied, the words slipping from his mouth like oil.
She opened her eyes and gave him a quizzical look. Her eyes shone, the amber erring on the side of golden. He would never be able to look directly at the sun, but those damn eyes were like the sun rays themselves. More beautiful—and powerful too.
“And why’s that?”
He tapped her nose, unable to help himself. “You blossom in the day but hide in the night.”
He watched as her throat bobbed. He could tell she was forcing herself to keep his gaze. Hopefully, he didn’t say something to offend her. He changed the subject for her sake.
“My parents’ party is in two days. Can I count on your attendance?”
She didn’t respond at first, and he started doubting every word he had uttered to her over the last few days. She hated him. She didn’t want to marry him.
“Of course,” she replied, but it wasn’t enthusiastic. “You never answered my question, though.”
She was redirecting their conversation, which, to be fair, he had done first.
“Well, Sundrop,” he started, and he took in her content expression at the nickname as a good sign. “The sun is an extension of me. Do you get bored of your hands or your legs?”
She snorted, and the way her nose crinkled was the most beautiful sight. “No.”
“I don’t get bored of the sun, but I think it’s because of all the opportunities I’ve had to get away from it. Visits to the Snow Court are common. I love going to the Lightning Court.”
“It must be nice to have such power, to leave whenever you please.”
“It is a privilege, yes.”
Her face was now downcast, as if mulling over her sadness. He didn’t like it. She deserved to shine with joy brighter than the sun.
“We’re here.” She stopped them, and Jasyn squinted as he read the sign.
“A bakery?”
The luscious smell coming from the shop reminded him of Dahlia. She’d had a sweet tooth, and she would always bring home fresh-baked delicacies. The memory of his sister made him smile sadly, but he allowed the grief its space and then let it go to live in the present with Esi.
“You like to use your hands,” she said so quickly, the words must have not registered until she finished. Both of them blushed, but she cleared her throat. “I figured we could bake something and distribute it to the children in the square.”
He knew it was foolish, that it had only been days, but he was starting to fall for the woman in front of him. She was fiery yet so kind and understanding. She saw him so deeply, he wondered if she could read his mind.
Yet, a frightening question popped up as they entered the bakery: what if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings? Right now, he ignored that thought.
“Lead the way, Sundrop.”
Iskra knew, with every passing day, she was digging herself into a deeper hole.
Her secrets were unraveling, and the way Bron had his eyes on her felt like she had a target on her back.
She knew as soon as they had a private moment, he would be livid with her.
Perhaps he would even cancel Iskra and Esi’s scheme.
It would be for the best, because being around Jasyn was dangerous.
He had some hold on her, like an invisible rope around her body.
She needed to sever it before he reined her in fully.
This is temporary, she reminded herself as they entered the bakery.
Chocolate and sugar and fresh baked bread coated her senses. There was a glass case filled with various pastries and desserts—colorful cookies, sugared decorations, intricate chocolate designs. A three tiered cake in the corner mocked her, a reminder that a wedding was not on the table for her.
“Prince Jasyn.” The head baker bowed his head. “Lady Esi, lovely to see you again.” He smiled at her.
She had visited the bakery right when it opened this morning, asking the baker if she and Jasyn could come and bake something together. After she explained who exactly she was, he’d obliged her request.
Jasyn leaned forward, closely inspecting the desserts. His green eyes took in every detail. He reached out toward the more intricately decorated cakes, but he was hindered by the glass encasement keeping them safe.
“Such skill,” Jasyn whispered to himself, but Iskra and the baker glanced at each other, smiling at his words.
“The first step is to bake, and then you can attempt to decorate.”
Jasyn turned to the two of them. Mych and Bron stayed outside, protecting the exterior and keeping everyone out.
“I have no such skill, but I will try nonetheless.”
Iskra wondered if that was Jasyn’s philosophy on becoming king, on life in general. He would always try, even with the possibility of failure.
“Join me in the back,” the baker told them both.
They followed him behind the counter into the back room, where a blast of heat hit them.
“Instructions are here for anything you wish to bake.” The baker pointed to a book. “Ingredients can be found in the cabinets. I’ll be in the front.”
“You’re not helping us?” Iskra asked.
He gave them a playful smile. “I think this a perfect test of compatibility, how well the two of you can work together on something you have no knowledge on.”
The baker left them both then, closing the door behind him.
Iskra’s mouth hung open, and then she huffed a laugh. “I promise, I thought he would guide us through it.”
Jasyn shrugged, already flipping through the pages of the recipe book. “It’s an exciting challenge.”
Iskra cringed. “One the castle will need to pay for.”
Jasyn paused and looked up to her. She thought he was about to scold her, but his eyes shimmered with delight. “I would expect nothing less.”
His eyes strayed back to the book, and she allowed him to decide what they should make.
“How about these fruit rolls with a simple vanilla glaze? They were my sister’s favorite.”
There was so much emotion crossing Jasyn’s face in that one moment. She was determined to make it work. They could do this small thing to bring Jasyn close to his sister again.
Iskra eyed the recipe, and she had no idea if it was of advanced skill.
She knew nothing about the art of cooking and baking.
She knew nothing much of the world, she supposed.
Being locked in a cage as a dragon didn’t allow her the opportunity to experience much.
What little life she had before was secluded.
“There’s an assortment of berries that would be perfect,” she said as she pointed behind them to a basket filled with freshly picked berries.
However, instead of looking at them, Jasyn had his eyes on her.
She had leaned over him when she scanned the page, and now, they both were at eye level.
Her breathing hitched as his eyes narrowed down to her mouth.
She bit her bottom lip, and a guttural groan escaped him, as if he was forcing himself back, that rope pulled tighter and tighter.
“We should—” She swallowed.
“Bake,” he finished for her.
She nodded. “Before the baker wonders what’s taking so long. It’ll be dark if we keep stalling, and all the children will be back home for dinner.”
Jasyn nodded along, yet they both stayed in the same position. Neither was willing to pull back first.
“I would like to spend the night with you.” The words were out of his mouth fast, but he backed away quicker. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “That was inappropriate. Apologies, Lady Esi.”
Iskra now stood at the table while he leaned against the counter, chest heaving.
“No apologies needed. Should we begin?”
“You still want to do this?”
“Bake?” she asked.
“Get married.” His voice cracked.
Iskra was taken aback. There was so much doubt in those few words, regret and fear and longing.
Worst of all, she couldn’t respond as herself. It was Lady Esi who said, “Of course, I still want to marry you. Why would you think otherwise?”
“There is something about you that confuses me,” he said so sincerely, it broke her.
What she did next, she would excuse as an act of comfort required to keep the betrothal strong. It wasn’t like her to initiate contact like this, but she refused to be the cause of the end.
Slowly, she stepped closer to him, each step punctuated with the racing of her heart. She took his cheek in her hand, and at first, he didn’t respond. Then, he rested comfortably against her palm. Iskra had to hold back tears at how right it felt, how simple it was to be with this man.
“There will be no doubts.”
She went up to her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Once again, he didn’t respond at first, but as she went to pull away, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her in against him.
She had to place her hand on his chest to avoid fully falling into him.
Now, his lips moved against hers, slow, sensual, yearning in his touch.
She felt it all. He didn’t rush them, even when she opened her mouth to let him in.
No, he kept it demure. It didn’t stop the rush of desire pooling at her core, though, and she wanted to rub her thighs together to satiate herself.
Instead, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “We should bake.”
She was left breathless as he stepped out of their embrace and started collecting everything they needed for the rolls.