Chapter 25
A few days later, Fawn leaned over to smell a gorgeous pink flower in the palace gardens. The sweet scent intrigued her, unlike the florals of the Human Kingdom. Flowers weren’t prevalent in the Mountain Kingdom, and the beautiful foliage of the Garden fae lands took her breath away.
Dean trailed behind her and Naomi, speaking with Monroe. He laughed, the sound shooting straight to her core. Would she ever tire of her mate? Would there come a day when his smile didn’t make her heart beat faster? She didn’t think so.
“The first time I came to the Garden Kingdom, I walked through their forests for hours gathering flowers to set around our cottage,” Naomi remarked, lost in a memory.
Fawn understood. She’d never been much for flowers, but these were something else. “Do you think they would let us cut flowers from here?” she mused.
Naomi slid her eyes to her. “The king would let you burn the gardens to the ground if you wanted.”
Fawn couldn’t argue, but she didn’t want to cut flowers here if it wasn’t normally allowed. She might be a future queen, and her might be unhinged, but she still needed to live by the rules if she wanted respect. “Can you ask the staff if it’s allowed?”
Naomi nodded, entranced by another bush. “I think Violet took some with her before she left, so I bet it’s fine.” Violet and her friends had left the day before to continue on to the other kingdoms on their tour.
A sudden movement in the nearest tree caught her eye, and she edged closer for a better look.
Several dark eyes on a fuzzy tan head peeked over a branch.
Long legs held its body in place, and she froze.
The biggest spider she’d ever seen stared back at her and inched over the wide branch toward her.
Tarantula . A boy in her class in the Human Kingdom once snuck his pet tarantula into school. Fawn had thought the fuzzy creature was cute, but their teacher did not and demanded he take his little friend home.
She inched closer, using the same voice she reserved for children. “Hello, little one.” The spider watched her, unblinking, and crept forward. “What are you doing hiding out here?”
She doubted large spiders would be welcome wandering around a public place and feared someone would try to hurt it.
“Someone might hurt you here,” she explained.
“I’ll take you to the forest.” The tarantula had a larger body than the small one she’d seen as a child.
Was it a large one or a fae one, and if the latter, could it understand her?
As far as she knew they couldn’t, but she spoke to it anyway.
“I won’t hurt you.” Fawn pressed her hands together, placed them at the edge of the branch, and the spider scurried into her waiting palms. Its legs prickled against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
The creature froze. “It just tickles,” she assured it, absurdly afraid she’d hurt its feelings. “Dean, look!” she said excitedly.
Dean hurried to her side, and she turned, holding up her prize with a wide grin. “Isn’t it cute?”
The king let out a sharp scream and scrambled back. “What in the fuck?”
Fawn’s jaw dropped at the deathly pallor of her mate’s face.
She looked from him to the spider and back again.
He moved behind Monroe, and the shorter man gasped with outrage.
He’s scared. She burst out laughing until tears trickled down her face.
Dean scowled at her from behind Monroe. “It’s not funny. Put it down.”
“Are you scared of a harmless tarantula?” she taunted and walked toward him.
The fearless king who killed men without blinking now held out a hand and backed away. “Fawn, do not come any closer.”
Naomi covered her mouth to smother a laugh, and Monroe darted to her side. “Dean’s right,” he agreed. “You should put it back. Or kill it.”
Fawn whirled around and pulled her new friend to her chest. “I’ll do no such thing. I’m taking it to the forest to set it free.”
Dean shook his head. “You’re not bringing that thing anywhere. Put. It. Back.”
The tarantula climbed from Fawn’s hands to her chest, clinging to her dress. Dean’s face paled further, and he pointed at her. “It’s going to rip out your throat.”
She smirked. “If you’re that worried, then come and get it.”
“Guards!” Dean hollered, and Fawn threw her head back laughing. “Some protector you are.” She smoothed her hand down the creature’s rounded body.
Dean puffed out his chest and marched toward her, hands trembling. He started to reach for the spider, and Fawn nipped at his hand with her fingers. “Boo!”
He yelped and jumped back. Fawn doubled over, holding the tarantula to her body to keep it from falling off. Naomi laughed loudly and Monroe scolded them, “It’s not funny.”
“It really is,” Naomi replied. “Did you hear him scream?”
“Fine,” Dean growled. “We’re dumping it in the forest on our way to the stables.”
Fawn gulped. She’d agreed to start horse riding lessons today. Oh, gods.
Dean glared at the creature clinging to Fawn’s shoulder.
How could she let it crawl across her bare skin?
The thought made him gag, and she only snickered.
They’d gone to the forest to release the wild beast, but it refused to leave Fawn’s side.
“You have to set that thing aside to get on the horse.”
Fawn rolled her lips together and reached up to pet the creature. “I will. I wouldn’t want to spook the horse.” Or me, he added to her sentence silently.
“Is this to pay me back for killing Howard?” he asked, still not understanding why it upset her. You kill one man and cut out a few tongues and suddenly you’re “unstable.”
“Get over yourself,” she admonished and glanced at the spider. “I happen to think it’s cute, and it likes me.” If she kissed the spider, he’d wash her mouth out with soap.
Fawn handed the thing to Naomi, and the woman giggled as it scrambled up her arm. “I think it’s cute too. I wonder if it’s male or female?” She moved her hair aside so the tarantula could perch on her shoulder. “I bet there’s a book in the library about them that will explain how to tell.”
“You’re not bringing that into the palace,” Dean informed the women. “If you insist on keeping it, it has to live in the gardens.”
Fawn’s eyes rounded. “What if someone hurts Tickles? I’ll never forgive you.”
“Tickles?” Monroe squeaked. “You actually named it Tickles?”
“You named it?” Dean asked, incredulous. She couldn’t be serious about keeping it. He thought she’d let it go in the gardens and be done with it. “I’ll put out a decree that all tarantulas are under the protection of the crown.”
“You should have named it Creepy Pasta,” Monroe muttered. “Look at its legs.” He stepped farther away from Naomi.
Jeremiah returned with a small tan gelding, its dark mane glossy, and set a tall mounting block by its side. The horse was small by fae shire standards, but still larger than a human shire. He thought a smaller horse would ease his mate’s discomfort.
On its broad back sat the long saddle he’d commissioned their first day at the stables. It was almost double the size of a normal saddle, and had the shire not been so large, it would have been too big.
“What is this?” Fawn asked, stepping closer to graze her finger along the leather.
“I had a two-person saddle made for us.” Dean positioned the mounting block at the horse’s side. “It’ll be more comfortable for you.”
Fawn’s mouth turned down and she dropped her arm. “It takes longer than a week to make a regular saddle. A custom saddle takes longer. How is this possible?”
Jeremiah snorted. “You’d be surprised what our men can do when given a royal order.” Dean had paid them handsomely to finish the saddle quickly.
His mate glanced at Monroe and Naomi for help. “You’ll do great,” Naomi encouraged. “You already know how to mount.”
“Knowing how and doing it are two different things,” Fawn said. “I tried once, and I cried.”
“I don’t blame you,” Monroe chimed in. “I like to look at horses, but I’d prefer to do so at a safe distance.” He had moved a good way behind Naomi when Jeremiah brought out the horse.
“I like horses,” Fawn replied, “but heights are a different story.”
“Time to ride,” Dean said, beckoning Jeremiah over. “You’re going to mount first.”
Fawn scooted away from the mounting block and clutched her skirt. “What if I fall off the other side?”
“I’ll be there to ensure you don’t,” Jeremiah assured her.
Dean moved closer to her. He won’t catch her like some hero or Dean might kill him. “I won’t let you fall,” Dean promised. “If you start to tip, I’ll grab your waist.”
Fawn’s hands trembled, and he almost called the whole thing off. He wanted her to overcome her fear so they could share this together, but feeling her trepidation was torture.
She squared her shoulders and stepped onto the block. “I’m ready.”
Dean placed his hand on her lower back and kissed the top of her head. “There’s my brave girl.”
“You make me sound like a child,” she grumbled.
“Darling, I assure you, you are anything but.”
A pretty blush colored her cheeks and his hand drifted to her bottom and squeezed. She swatted at his hand. “Behave.”
With much coaxing, Fawn mounted, clutching the saddle horn for dear life. Dean climbed on behind her and wrapped one arm tightly around her waist.
Jeremiah helped position her foot into the right stirrup and patted her leg. “You did great.” Dean glared at where he touched her calf.
“We’re only going to take a small turn around the stables,” he told her. “That’s all we’ll do for today, and each day we’ll go a little farther.”
“Okay.” Her voice was tight, and he bet her eyes were closed.
The horse started forward, and Dean loosened his arm to let her feel the movements. She yelped a few times as her rigid body slipped side to side, and he tapped her middle. “You need to loosen your hips. Use your core to keep your upper body straight but let your lower half sway with the horse.”
She panicked when the horse bit at a fly on his leg, the motion bouncing them a little. “What does that mean?”
Dean lifted his hand from her waist to move her hair behind her ear and bent his head down. “It means hold your shoulders like a queen and move your hips like a whore.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and the bond sparked with arousal. Snaking his arm around her middle, he held her upper body still. “I’ve seen the way your hips move when you dance. Do what you do best, darling.”
He felt her relax slightly as her desire rose. Interesting. Maybe rubbing her clit while they rode would make her forget her fear. Unfortunately, they were almost finished with their turnabout, so he’d have to try that theory another day.
They returned to their friends, and Fawn’s tremble had lessened to a light shake. Progress . After helping his mate down, he pulled Jeremiah aside.
“I need you to make a few alterations to a saddle.”
“Another long one?” Jeremiah asked. “We only made one. It will take another week.”
Dean shook his head. “Use a regular saddle you have already made. I’ll need this by tomorrow.”
“What alterations are you needing?”
Dean grinned.