Chapter 25
Chapter
For years I have trained my hands not to tremble.
No one warned me about my heart.
Iwatch from my carriage window as the last remaining embers flicker to their end. The camp went quiet hours ago. The men all hunkered down in the tall grass for the night, having long surrendered to the exhaustion of the day.
Every man except Frog, who’s yet to return from wherever he disappeared to.
Did I hurt him by dancing with Merrek?
“No.” I shake my head. “What a ridiculous thought. He’s here to deliver my heart to the prince. Not to keep it,” I remind myself.
Then I pop my head out the carriage window and continue to search the moonlit field for him anyway.
“What?” I whisper when Buttons’ big round eyes blink up at me. “I’m not sneaking away to find him. I’m just going for an unsupervised walk about the tree line to stretch my legs.”
Buttons’ expression remains unimpressed.
Ugh. “Fine. I am sneaking out to find him,” I concede, forcing my legs and skirt through the small window. “Do you mean to follow, or shall I go alone?”
Buttons leaps from the velvet bench onto my shoulder and together we land in the tall grass with little more than a thud.
When I retreat from the carriage minutes later, its curtains are drawn and no one is the wiser. Buttons purrs in my ear, seemingly satisfied with my great escape. If only he knew. I scratch the pink fuzz between his ears as he curls his long, tiny body around my neck.
“I used to do this all the time, you know.” I smile as we slip into the night. “Sneak out after midnight.”
I think back to the very first time I crawled out of my tower’s window as we push through the last of the tall grass and enter the forest tree line.
“I’d visit my friend.” My chest warms at Riven’s memory. “He’d tell me stories about the realm outside my castle’s walls. Some made me laugh. Others made me cry. But I always left feeling so… alive.”
My smile falters. “A bit ironic given he was a ghost.”
God I miss him.
Buttons flicks his forked tongue just beneath my chin, lapping up the single salty tear that has fallen there. I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggle.
“I’m alright! I’m alright,” I promise, my voice low. And though my life is not headed in the direction I had hoped, these past few days with the knights, with Frog, truly have made me feel so.
And how do I thank him? By spying on him. Smooth, Sunday.
I turn, fully decided on heading back to the carriage when a branch breaks somewhere nearby, followed by the rustling of leaves.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper.
Someone’s there. I slip behind a tree, holding my breath as a tall figure steps into the moonlit clearing.
Frog.
What is he doing? I puzzle, trying to decipher his steps. His very clumsy steps.
He’s not wielding a sword or practicing to fight—at least not that I can tell. It almost looks as if he’s…dancing?
Or, attempting to.
I tuck myself in tightly between a crimson-covered thicket and a cobalt wrapped tree, pricking my fingers on their thorns as I watch. I’m utterly captivated by the knight’s impressive lack of balance and rhythm.
“One, two, three.” He turns, only for his boot to catch on his long cloak and send him stumbling sideways.
He catches himself, eyes wide as he scans the tree line, no doubt hoping the forest wasn’t witness to his failure. I wonder what he’d think if he knew I was.
I should dismiss myself. ‘Twould be the polite thing to do. The dignified thing to do. Instead, I duck behind the tree and bribe Buttons for his silence with some chin scratches.
The forest grows still. Quiet. I’m certain he’s going to hear my heart racing in my chest, when, after a moment, the shuffle and stumble of boots starts up again.
I sigh my relief as I steal another peek around the tree’s twisted trunk, just in time to see him try and fail again and again to get the steps right.
“This is pointless.” He exhales, casting his eyes up toward the moon.
I’ve never seen the knight so defeated.
“I don’t think he quite understands the premise of dancing,” I whisper to my little purring companion, who’s taken purchase on a branch above me, having decided the view from down here was no longer sufficient.
Though, I dare say no view would be given the performance.
“’Tis meant to be fun. Do you suppose he knows what fun is?
” I ask, forgetting entirely that Buttons is a dragon, and as such, cannot talk.
But that also means he can’t stop me either. A sly smile plays at the corners of my mouth as an unruly idea comes to mind.
Frog stumbles once more, this time into a bush full of thistles.
“What am I even doing?” His voice breaks.
“It’s funny you should ask,” I tease, slipping slowly from the shadows. “I was wondering the same thing.”
Frog turns, pulling his cloak free from the rose-littered shrub. All the color drains from his face.
“Miss Sunday.”
My name lingers between us, spoken so softly it feels more like a confession than a greeting—though a confession to what, I remain uncertain.
“How long?” I ask.
Frog looks away. “Miss Sunday—”
“How long have you been trying to learn these steps?”
His hands flex at his side. “You should be in the carriage.”
“The carriage you’re meant to be guarding?” I bite back a laugh.
His composure fractures almost instantly. His eyes widening just enough to give him away before darting back toward the ground.
“I…”
“You were just forgoing your duties to…teach yourself how to dance?” I assume, stepping into the spot he’s backed away from. “I could help with that, you know? You need only ask.”
He swallows hard, giving ground with every inch I step closer.
“I could not, Miss.”
“Because you think me too beastly?”
He stops so abruptly that I nearly topple into him. If I were to take any bigger breath our bodies would be touching—a shiver-inducing thought I have to bite down on before my lungs can think to expand upon it. The warmth of his body is nothing compared to the heat of his darkened autumn gaze.
“You are no beast,” he replies, entirely unaware of the weight those four words carry, or the heart he’s just set ablaze.
I wet my lips and the air between us tightens, growing thicker with the scent of wild orange and cinnamon and all the questions I ought not say aloud.
And yet. “Is it my hand you dare not to take?” I ask, for once not referencing my skin’s blue hue. “Is it because it will soon belong to another?”
Something flickers across his features, and for a moment, I believe he wants to say yes. Then he shakes his head.
I drop my gaze, pretending to fidget with my fingers just to hide the disappointment I have no right to feel.
“Then what is it?” I ask, careful not to let the ache in my chest set a tone to my voice. “If not because of fear, or feelings, then—”
“If I take your hand,” he finally offers, “I will be painfully aware of every mistake I make.”
Oh. Oh. He’s embarrassed.
A warm smile pulls at my lips, and from them spills a quiet laugh. “Then I shall be very aware of the steps I teach you.” I offer him an outstretched hand.
Frog blinks, eyeing it warily as if certain he’d misheard me.
“Dance with me, Frog,” I repeat. This time, I leave little room for refusal, taking his hand before he can think to hide it.
“Miss Sunday, I—”
“You are going to put your left hand here,” I instruct, placing his trembling fingers on the small of my back.
The knight sucks in a sharp inhale that sends his firm chest into mine and a flurry of butterflies into the bottom of my belly.
I clear my throat, ignoring both. “Just like that,” I add, my voice barely a whisper. “Now with your other hand, take mine.”
Frog doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as breathe as he stares down at me, his eyes wide with quiet surprise. And an adorable dose of panic.
“Here, like this,” I offer, taking his right hand in mine and threading our fingers so that our palms are flush. “Now…first rule. Stop watching your feet.”
Frog’s eyes snap to mine, the tops of his cheeks pink beneath the moonlight. “I’ll step on your toes.”
“I’ll survive.” I smile, stepping us back into the clearing.
Reluctantly, he keeps his gaze level with the top of my head, though the tremble of his hand on my waist remains.
Hmm.
“Think of this like wielding a blade, only much less dangerous.”
Frog’s brows furrow. “I am not nearly as confident about this.”
Oh I know, I giggle as Buttons hops into the clearing, purring his delight. His soft chirps are almost melodic, giving our dance new life. Good idea! Music always helps. I wink at the little pink and white creature.
“Now,” I say. “Right foot back.”
He backs with his left.
“Your other right,” I grin.
“There are too many feet to keep track of,” he huffs out, his eyes once again trained on the ground.
I bite down on a laugh. “There are only four, Frog.”
His gaze finds mine, a wrinkle of amusement bracketing his eyes. “I assure you, I can count, Miss Sunday.”
So there is a sense of humor under all that armor. Huh.
I raise my brow, pleased with my spoils. “We’re making progress then.”
Frog shakes his head but I can see it, the whisper of a laugh vibrating through his shoulders. The echo of a smile shining in his eyes.
“So, what now?” he asks, the trembling in his hand gone.
“Now,” I beam up at him, “we try it again.”
I lead with my left, he moves back with his right.
We shuffle to the side with the other foot and he stumbles.
“Keep going,” I gently push, not allowing him the time to second guess his next step. “Right on one, left on two, then together on three, okay?”
“One.”
He steps backward, his hand gently squeezing mine.
“Two.”
He steps to the side, his palm flush against my waist.
“Three.”
We come together, and the world around us melts away.
The dark knight looks to me for approval.
I nod, my voice barely a whisper. “Again.”
Frog straightens, relaxing his shoulders. And then he takes the lead, moving me back, to the side, and finally, together.
“Perfect.”
The peaks of his cheeks pinken at my praise, but he doesn’t loosen his hold or shy away. Instead he pulls me closer, his autumn green gaze now set ablaze.
“Not quite,” he breathes out. Before I can question what he means, he releases his hold on my waist and side-steps away, still holding my hand.
I puzzle his steps before I realize where they’re leading, and the gasp that leaves my lips, does so on a twirl. Round and round he spins me, until the dark reds and purples of the forest become one with my dress.
The laugh that flies from my lips is unlike any other I’ve felt before.
Reaching from the depths of my butterfly-filled belly, it makes light of my every step.
When he pulls me back to him, into his warmth and cinnamon-orange scent, just as my lungs have caught their breath, I’m falling.
But only for a moment before Frog’s hand finds the small of my back.
“Did you just…” I gasp, my eyes wide with surprise.
“I think I did?” Frog nods, blinking rather quickly.
I cast my head back in laughter, wishing this moment to never end. Knowing in some ways, it won’t. For a memory is a treasure the heart keeps.
And this one, this one—I stare up at Frog, his chest is rolling with laughter—is my favorite of all.