Page 13 of Treasured By the Fae Royal
LUCAS
I’m usedto dining at a formal table resplendent in gleaming gold and polished silver settings, along with cups made of the finest crystal, usually in the company of over a dozen of my closest advisors, dignitaries, and other highborn fae. Dining at a small table in a forest cottage with three human women is a new experience, but it’s a pleasant one. The atmosphere is cozy and relaxing, and the food is delicious.
To my surprise, I realize I don’t feel like I must put on a show around the women. I feel more at ease, more able to just be myself, whoever the fuck I am. It’s a relief I don’t have to summon my persona as the cold, brutal, and scheming Summer Court prince everyone expects me to be.
I’m seated next to Yvette, and due to the small size of the table, or perhaps it’s because I’m much larger than the average human, our legs keep brushing. Sometimes when it happens, Yvette glances at me with a blush covering her face. When she blushes, the tips of her ears also turn dark pink, and gods how I love watching her squirm in her seat.
Aunt Heather notices my wine glass is empty, and I’m surprised when she fills it with water and gives me a brief smile. “You don’t want to become drunk and unable to fly back home later.”
I chuckle. “It takes more than a few glasses of human wine to get me drunk. Only fae or orc spirits are capable of that feat, and even then, I’m usually able to fly without a problem.Usually. There was that one time I inadvertently flew into a flock of birds.”
All three women laugh, though I notice Heather’s eyes don’t light up, and despite the cordial dinner conversation the four of us have shared thus far, I sense her desire to have me gone. It would be difficult to miss the concerned glances she keeps sending her niece. I suppose she’s worried I’ll take Yvette with me when I finally depart. Not that the idea doesn’t keep crossing my mind.
I consider the books. The deliciously naughty romance novels I found in a bag. Not only was Yvette’s name written inside the cover of each book, but many of the pages were earmarked, leaving me in no doubt that she’s read them many times. And those earmarked pages? They contained the most explicit passages.
I wish we’d had more time to discuss the novels, but alas, her mother and aunt had appeared in the doorway a second later. I’d planned to tell Yvette about my own reading habits. I’d also planned to tell her about the most magnificent libraries and bookstores in the realm that I’ve visited. Perhaps I’ll get the chance later.
But my heart quickly sinks, because I’m not sure later will come.
Darkness has already fallen. What am I supposed to do? Feign tiredness and ask to spend the night? I glance at Heather and notice her frowning at me, though she quickly looks away.
Spending the night is definitely not an option. Yvette’s dragon of an aunt wouldn’t allow it even if I begged, and I have no intention of begging. Secretly remain in the area to make sure Yvette is safe while also spying on her? Yes, I might do that.
I consider how humans sometimes fall in love with one another. Many human marriages are arranged, but some humans marry for love. It’s the same among orcs. It’s also not unheard of for humans in an arranged marriage to later fall in love.
The point being, perhaps I can make Yvette fall in love with me.
I think about my attributes. I’m a wealthy prince. That’s a mark in my favor. I’m also a highborn fae with powerful magic. Another mark. And let’s not forget my sheer handsomeness. Yet another mark.
Yvette, however, doesn’t strike me as the superficial type. She would likely long for romance and a real connection. A heartfelt love. But how do I make that happen?
A plan starts to form. A plan that would make the more wicked members of my family laugh at me, but I don’t fucking care.
I want Yvette as my bride, and I won’t rest until she’s mine.
Until she agrees to become mine.
Yes, I could glamour her into loving me, but it wouldn’t be real. Perhaps she might never love me, no matter how intently I try to woo her, and maybe I won’t ever fall in love with her either. But we could cultivate a friendship at the very least, and I would like to believe we might find some happiness together.
There’s an undeniable spark between us, however, that makes me think our marital intimacies would be explosive.
Love isn’t a guarantee, and I know there’s no way we could ever share the same deep connection that comes with an everlasting bond to one’s fated mate, but gods how I want to try.
All my life, the terrible knowledge that I would never have a fated mate has haunted me. It’s given me nightmares and kept me awake at night, and it’s caused me to experience searing jealousy every time a friend or acquaintance finally meets their fated mate.
After dinner is over, I stand up and place a hand on Yvette’s shoulder. There’s a sadness to her expression that gives me hope. If she’s sad I’m about to depart, surely that’s a good sign. A sign she’s at least mildly drawn to me.
“I must return to the Summer Court army before my soldiers start looking for me, but I would like to thank you all for your hospitality. This was a most enjoyable evening.” I reach for Yvette’s hand and bend to place a kiss upon it, which earns me another pretty flush from the intriguing human female. “I would especially like to thank you, sweetling, for the delicious meal and the gift of your company today.” I kiss her hand again. Just because I can.
I don’t care that we have witnesses during this exchange. Let her aunt gasp and let her mother stare at us wide-eyed. From my peripheral vision, I notice the two older women exchange a worried glance.
“It’s us who should be thanking you.” Yvette makes to get up, and I move her chair back and assist her in standing. She stammers for a moment, then murmurs, “I will walk you outside.”
I exchange polite farewells with Heather and Carol, the latter of whom shakes my hand and thanks me one last time for healing her mangga bite and for saving Yvette from the flesh traders. I incline my head, giving Yvette’s mother a respectful nod while claiming I was happy to be of service, and it’s not a lie. I shudder to think what might be happening to Yvette at this very moment had I not rescued her on the road, and mangga bites are a painful and tragic way to go, especially for a human whose lifespan is already so short.
I place a hand at the small of Yvette’s back and guide her out into the frigid winter night. But it doesn’t remain cold for long. I quickly summon my magic and bring forth a warm summer breeze. I also conjure the scents of early summer blooming flowers, and nighttime insects and trilling frogs. Lastly, I swirl a hand in the air, causing fireflies to appear in the surrounding forest.
Yvette gasps and looks around, then she peers at me with her face bathed in the moonlight. Gods, she is so beautiful, and innocent. Despite the content of the books I discovered, I sense her inexperience in her adorable blushes and equally adorable moments of discomfiture. Furthermore, I don’t detect the scent of a male on her, an aroma that would linger on her for months or even longer after an amorous encounter.
