This could have been our honeymoon, had we married upon our return from Trissau.
As it is not, I unpacked my extra sets of clothing, my new red Converse shoes, my notebook and glitter pens, my hairbrush, and a few small personal belongings, leaving one item in my bag, which I stashed beneath the bed. I spied nowhere to hang my one violet dress, and I didn’t want to go searching for a closet, so I left it in its pouch and placed it on the shelf next to the desk. The shoes I tucked beneath the bed.
I will be washing laundry frequently, owning so few clothes, and all of them borrowed from either Raina or Saskaya. I might need to suck it up and buy some that actually fit. A small expenditure won’t make much difference in the overall state of the Treasury.
Idly, I scanned the book spines. Lorcan, as always, surprises me. Tucked in between his beloved tomes on Auralian lore wasA History of Tax Policy and Collection.
He never gives up, does he?A wry smile twisted my mouth. I can’t imagine he’s actually read such a dreadful book, but as Cata used to say, he’s full of surprises.
Farther down the line, a small red book titled,A Compendium of Auralian Amphibians.
What a shock, seeing that. I wonder what happened to my little mossy frogs. Probably dead, by now. I paged through it, remembering. What a brat I was at eighteen. Yearning for a freedom I couldn’t quite define, without recognizing the lengths my friends and family went to trying to give it to me.
I snapped the book closed and set it back on the shelf.
“Are you hungry?” Lorcan asked from below. There’s no real privacy to be had in this house.
“Yes,” I called down, partly because it’s true and partly because if I don’t eat, Sas will lecture me about it. I went downstairs to find Lorcan in his kitchen. “What can I do to be useful?”
“Nothing.” He cast me a lopsided smile. “There is nothing for you to do here except read, if you want to, and rest. Tenáho is the most boring place in the world.”
“I highly doubt that.” I took a couple of plates down, intending to set the table. “What do you do when you’re here?”
“Fix things around the house, catch up on village gossip, make sure my mother and sister have what they need, and when I start going out of my mind, I leave.”
I smiled at that. He’s working so hard to win me over.
Lorcan must have made an appealing target for so many women facing bleak postwar romantic prospects: a proven provider and excellent protector, with a home of his own, and a prestigious job defending the princess, which takes him out of your hair for much of the time. No wonder they queued up to spend a night with him, hoping he might stay.
Yet here I am, again, the odd one out. I could have him but I refuse to claim him.
This situation is so awkward. I wonder if he remembers that day in Cata’s kitchen. In Trissau, he claimed to remember every day with me, but it’s hard to tell what’s true and what he’s conveniently not telling me. He is, after all, a trained assassin. Spies with loose lips don’t live long. Like Cata, he’s selective about what he chooses to reveal. It’s not helping his supposed quest to win my trust.
“Shouldn’t you let your family know you’re back?” I asked. I admit I’m curious about the woman who allowed her twelve-year-old son to leave home and seek his fortune.
“They know. Trust me.” Lorcan chuckled ruefully. “Word has gotten around. By now, the entire village knows I’m here and who I’m with.”
My cheeks went warm. This trip will be great cover for our fake engagement.
But Raina was right. Lorcan is trying to win me back. The question is whether I can withstand three more months of his efforts to worm his way back into my heart.
* * *
The makeshift bed-beneath-the-stairs arrangement didn’t last one full night. I was startled awake by a loud thump followed by a low moan, and lay in the warm covers, with my heart racing, trying to remember where I was. Listening, while Lorcan cursed under his breath. Relieved to remember that I wasn’t in a fetid jail cell and Bashir wasn’t two meters away, with nothing but a few iron bars to protect me from his wrath if he escaped.
“Are you all right?”
I held the oil lamp high. His rumpled hair sticks up endearingly, casting shadows like a hedgehog’s quills. It still manages to half-conceal one blue eye. His hair is a haystack; it makes me want to run my fingers through it. Always has, no matter how much I try to hate him.
Lorcan sat upright, with one knee bent and his foot propped on the opposite one, examining his swelling ankle.
“Kicked the wall,” he said ruefully. “Hard.”
“I told you, you’re too tall for this space.”
His gaze met mine. “Do you have another idea, Princess?”
I’m going to have to relent on the bed issue. Devious, scheming man. He knew there was only one place to sleep when he asked me to come here.
