Chapter 1 Intruder #3
With a sigh of relief, he leaned back against the bed frame, grabbing his head with both hands as if it was too heavy for his neck to hold up. “Thank the heavens for that. I feel like I was just run over by a bull.”
Tyrina chimed in. “Magic will do that to you. You would have woken up on your own eventually, unicornbane dust just helps the process along.”
Clyde nodded and thanked Tyrina for her services, then William for bringing him here.
“Do you know who attacked you?” William asked.
Clyde shook his head. “I never saw his face, but I’d know that magic anywhere.
It’s that of a shadow unicorn.” A shiver ran down Luna’s spine, recalling the nightmarish magic.
While all unicorns could shift between human and unicorn form, shadow unicorns could control darkness and use it against their foes.
“Evil and cruel beings with no sense of humanity,” Tyrina spat out. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Agreed,” Clyde said as the sound of alarms ceased. He turned to William. “I’ve got it from here.” William opened his mouth, probably to argue, but Clyde cut him off. “I’ll take Luna home. Thank you for your help.”
Clouds filled the skies, making the servants with umbrellas unnecessary.
Luna and Clyde walked from the infirmary to the buildings that housed the noble families, passing the barracks on their way.
The grounds were like a small town, with all sorts of buildings people would need to live and thrive.
They had walked a decent way in silence before Clyde made a sudden turn behind one of the storage buildings; the area was fairly isolated from everything else, allowing them a moment of privacy.
His dark brown eyes scanned over every inch of her body, worry furrowing his brow as he took a step closer to her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She looked down at her ruined dress, her cheeks warming.
Although tiny thorns had torn the outer layer of fabric, they hadn’t penetrated the numerous layers beneath, leaving her unharmed.
A smile graced her lips; his genuine concern for her well-being was incredibly touching.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said. To showcase, she gave him a twirl, her waist-long blonde hair and dress flowing out around her as she moved.
“You know you will always be beautiful to me . . .”
His words made her want to melt against him, to show him how beautiful she could really be, but she held back. They were off the main path, sure, but they were still in the open. Anyone could walk by.
“However”—he raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck—“you do look like you fought a battle in that dress, and if the king saw you right now, he’d put my head on a platter . . .”
She looked down at her once beautiful cream-coloured dress and frowned.
It had been snagged in several places, with petals and leaves still clinging to the fabric.
The hem and her slippers were stained brown from the damp soil too.
She kicked her shoes together, trying to remove the dirt.
Clyde was right. If the king saw the state she was in, he would regard flowers as a hazard.
In fact, she wouldn’t put it past the king to claim that any kind of flower was dangerous and demand all the gardens be removed from the grounds.
She brushed her hands along her dress, trying to remove some of the debris.
Clyde continued, “And to be frank, I would deserve it.” He looked over his shoulder before stepping closer to her, closer than what was appropriate of their stations. Gently, he captured her hands in his, stopping her from smoothing over her clothes.
Her eyes met his, and her breath hitched.
Would he kiss her? They had kissed before, but never somewhere so openly.
Usually, he would sneak into her room at night, after everyone was asleep.
He never stayed long, always having to rush back to his post to keep from being caught.
If he kissed her now, it would be the first time in the light of day.
Heart racing, she stole a glance around, double-checking they were still alone, and then leaned forward.
Cupping her face, he tenderly stroked her cheek. “With your illness, a minor scratch would be fatal. And if that happened, I would never forgive myself.”
So much for a kiss. She sighed, hating how much her illness stole from her. They so rarely had any private time together, and after everything that had happened today, all she wanted to do was be physically and emotionally connected to him. Not discuss the what-ifs or what could have happened.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her hands pressing against his chest. It had been foolish to go into the flowerbeds.
If she had injured herself, she would have bled until she had nothing left to bleed.
She melted into his scent, inhaling deeply.
He could’ve been carved from stone—perfect, except for the lines on his face, shaped by battles he never spoke of.
“I’m sorry for causing you worry. It was foolish. ”
Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “Why did you wander into the flowerbeds, anyway?”
“There was a weed.”
He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Was it at least pretty?”
“In a way . . .” she admitted softly, “yes.”
But she wasn’t thinking of the weed anymore.