Chapter 13 Zara
Chapter thirteen
Zara
Ican’t shut up about Leer. The entire morning, I’ve gone on and on about him to whoever will listen. My maids who bring me tea and breakfast, the guards in the hallways, the servant who replaces the logs in the fireplace in my rooms, Emlyn, Alix. Everyone.
“You seem rather smitten.” Emlyn’s voice is flat, annoyed by the third hour of me droning on about the prince’s smile and eyes and contagious laugh.
I fumble with my stockings as I pull them up to my thigh in my closet. “It’s crazy, right? I mean, one minute I want to run as far away as possible from the idea of marriage and the next, I’m picturing the two of us cradling tiny faelings.”
I fought for so long against the marriage alliance with Lanray.
The thought of being tied down to someone else or to any type of responsibility terrifies me.
Yet, after meeting Leer, kissing him—the idea of getting married sounds exciting.
I’ve completely and utterly fallen for him.
As if by magic. A dizzying and wonderfully satisfying magic.
It’s the strangest and most foreign of feelings to me.
But something tells me Leer and I are meant to be together.
Emlyn doesn’t respond, but when I poke my head out from the closet, I catch her sharing an irritated glance with Alix who waits in the foyer for me to finish getting dressed for our outing.
I huff. “Fine. I’ll stop talking about him. But you have to admit that he is just. And his smile is…wow.” I sigh, lost in a daydream. “He’s cocky but I think that just makes him even sexier, you know?”
“Gods, will you please be quiet?” Alix plops down onto a sofa and covers his face with his hands.
I choke on a laugh and Emlyn rolls her eyes as she helps me tuck a few stray hairs into the low bun at the nape of my neck. I wink at her in the mirror and dab some rosy tint onto my lips, puckering them at my reflection. “I’m ready.”
I throw on a pair of beige flats to match my lacy blue dress that falls just below my knees and follow Alix and Emlyn out the door to go meet Leer in the courtyard.
Leer didn’t specify where he wanted me to take him, so I planned a day walking along the lakes that surround the grounds and picnicking before exploring the village. We’ll leave Groble’s Tavern off of the agenda today.
My charming prince is waiting for me on a stone bench just beyond the bridge connecting the palace to the outer gardens. He stands as I approach, a grin spreading wide on his face. My cheeks warm and I shyly push a loose strand of hair behind my ear, my lips curling upward when I meet his gaze.
My smile immediately fades when Alfrie rises from the bench and stands next to Leer.
Alfrie’s staggering green eyes pierce through me, and he wears a scornful expression as he watches my party draw near.
He’s in his human form and part of me is impressed with his supposed ability to shift into several creatures, but his rudeness and condescension during our encounter in the healer’s wing still gnaw at my ego.
I force myself to smile again, noting how quickly he averts his gaze at my friendly gesture.
One side of Alfrie’s mouth twitches slightly, as if trying to return the false affection. It’s hard to be sure.
I grin even wider though my fists clench at my sides. I refuse to let anyone’s negative attitude ruin my time with my betrothed.
Leer gives me a gentleman’s bow and I curtsy in response, a tiny giggle escaping my lips at the formalities.
His eyes greedily rove over my body and my heart skips.
“You look beautiful. I feel underdressed.” He gestures to his navy-blue collared shirt and black trousers.
His chocolate hair is immaculately coiffed, and he casually rests his hands above his hips.
“No, you’re perfect.”
Leer’s cheeks redden and he stifles a laugh. I catch Alfrie rolling his eyes, but he quickly turns the other way.
I want to crawl into a hole and die. I bite my lip and swallow a lump of utter embarrassment. “I mean, you’re dressed perfectly.”
Alix clears his throat from behind me. I forgot he and Emlyn were even here. Every time I’m with Leer, it’s like we're the only ones in the entire realm.
Alix places his hand on my elbow. “Shall we get going?” He motions with his chin toward the path that wraps around the many gardens of the palace. “After you, Your Highnesses.” Alix nods and sweeps his hand in front of him waiting for me and Leer to lead.
“My Lady?” Leer holds his arm out to me, and I loop mine through it resting my hand on his forearm, and we start down the stone pathway. Emlyn follows close behind, escorted by both Alix and Alfrie, each of her arms cradled by the crooks of their elbows.
We stroll along a crystal stream, gradually widening into a lake surrounded by large hydrangea shrubs that delight my senses with their sweet floral aroma.
Towering willows casting a cool shade over the thick green grass, and there’s a chill in the air signaling the approaching winter.
But right now, in this moment, arm in arm with my prince, I’ve never felt cozier.
“Should we stop here for a picnic?” I glance at Alix who is carrying the basket of freshly baked rolls and cheeses. “Alix? Would you mind?”
Alix gently removes Emlyn’s arm from his and gets to work unboxing a wool blanket and the breads and cheeses.
Emlyn curtsies a thank you to Alfrie as she releases her hold on him to help Alix unpack the basket.
Her idea of helping is flopping down on the blanket as he’s smoothing it out on the ground.
Her long purple dress fans out and covers a corner of the basket.
“You aren’t helping.” Alix frowns as he swipes the fabric away and continues to pull out the food.
Emlyn wiggles her eyebrows and pulls a bottle from a leather satchel strapped over her shoulder. “I brought the whiskey. So, one could argue that I am indeed helping.”
I laugh and guide Leer over to the blanket and we make ourselves comfortable. Alfrie stands awkwardly for a moment, seemingly unsure if he should join our party or not. Alix waves him over and Alfrie claims a tiny corner of the blanket.
Emlyn uncorks the bottle and takes a swig before passing it to me. I hold it up high, “Cheers.” I throw back the bottle and shiver as the alcohol goes down my throat, burning my chest, then hand it to Leer.
“Is this what courtiers do for fun in Masseda?” Leer wipes the back of his mouth with his hand and shovels a piece of baguette and a chunk of cheese into his mouth. He offers the whiskey to Alfrie who holds a hand up to decline the drink. “Come on, Alfrie, live a little.”
“No, thank you. After the other night, I don’t know how any of you can drink.” Alfrie reaches for a piece of cheese.
Leer shrugs and passes the bottle to Alix who politely declines it too.
“I’m on duty.” He stands and scans the surrounding area, making a couple of laps around the perimeter before crouching down near Emlyn.
“I’m curious. How did a physician become squire to His Highness?
” Alix asks, giving his full attention to Alfrie who is now plucking at individual blades of grass.
Alfrie leans his forearms on his knees and his face scrunches up for the briefest moment, almost as if he were recalling a painful memory.
He clears his throat and begins tying the ends of the grass blades together into a chain.
“Uh…well, I’m not exactly a squire. That’s the most likely title for someone who aids the prince, I suppose.
I wasn’t a physician until I arrived at Lanray and acted as an apprentice to the healer there.
I was told I needed a distraction. Thus, I chose medicine.
" He glances over to Alix with a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth.
My eyes narrow as I watch him smoothing the blade of grass between his thumb and forefinger.
My interest is piqued. I assumed he grew up in the palace at Lanray with Leer, like me and Emlyn.
“What do you mean, arrived at Lanray? Where did you come from?” His eyes land on mine and I can’t breathe for a second.
He has a faraway look, almost peering through me.
As if deciding how much of himself to share with me or anyone.
His gaze softens, refocusing on my face, and an unexpected shockwave of heat moves through me.
My thoughts travel to a forbidden place, and I try to look away but I’m locked in.
Finally, he releases whatever strange hold he had on me and gazes down at his hands. “My family fled to the Woodlands during the war for power, and like so many others who refused to choose one evil over another, we found solace in solitude. But then my village was destroyed, and I—”
“My father and I rescued him from an Unseelie attack,” Leer interjects. “It was awful.” His blue eyes are filled with pity, and he takes one of my hands in his.
Alfrie’s throat bobs. “It turns out, no matter how hard you try, you’ll eventually have to choose a side. And in my case, it wasn’t a choice but the only viable option: I could leave my life as a Solitary Fey or die at the hands of those who slaughtered my family in front of me."
Emlyn sits up on her forearms, her brow creased with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Alfrie.”
He shrugs but doesn’t look up. “It was a long time ago.”
The whiskey bottle has made its way back to Emlyn and she takes a pull. “Still. But how lucky that you were rescued by a king! I bet you were excited about court life.”
Alfrie snorts. “Oh yes. Living as a courtier has always been a dream of mine.” His tone drips with sarcasm. “Though, there are so many things to worry about. Like which shoes to wear to dinner or if someone else might be wearing the same overcoat as me. Dreadful.”
Alix tries to cover a smirk, and he gets up to do a perimeter lap again.
“I just meant. I’m sure it was different, that’s all.” Emlyn looks down at the lip of the bottle in her hand.