“Ask me one thing, and I will tell you.”
I raised my brow. “Anything?”
He nodded. I tried to think of all the questions that I had and which were the most important. I settled with the first that came to mind.
“How did you learn to fight?”
He took a breath, and the hand that held my chin fell back to his side. “I am training to be an Otacian soldier.”
My eyes widened. “A soldier?”
I didn’t know why I hadn’t considered it. He certainly had the build of someone who would be a soldier. Boys were recruited starting at age twelve but could start training later if they chose. It always surprised me that some parents would willingly enlist their children to fight, though being a soldier, a protector of Otacia, was one of the greatest honors one could have.
“When did you begin training?”
He grinned. “That’s two questions, Flower.”
My shoulders dropped, and he squeezed my hand. “I was twelve when my official training started. However, my parents would give me pointers before then. They wanted me to have every advantage when it came time to train with my peers.”
“You live with both parents?” I asked.
“I do,” he said with a frown. “I couldn’t help but notice I have not seen your father,” he hesitated. “If you wish not to speak on it, I understand.”
“No, it’s alright.” He traced his thumb along mine. I couldn’t tell him the truth, so I told him what my mother told those who asked. “My father passed away before I was born. I never knew him. Waylon was his name, which Mother’s business is named after.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” he said with apologetic eyes, and I felt guilt wash over me.
Another one of my fucking lies.
I gave him a small smile, and we continued to walk, his hand sliding free of mine. “I suppose I don’t know what I am missing.”
“Well, my father is alive, but our relationship is not one to envy.”
“How so?”
He tensed. “He…he is not the loving sort—quite a cold man. I cannot recall ever even being hugged by him.”
I looked at him in sad surprise, and he gave me a pitiful smile before looking forward as we made it over the bridge.
“Do you train with the Prince?”
He stopped and frowned at me.
“It’s just,” I continued, “I’ve heard whisperings about the Prince here and there. They say he is a great fighter.”
Quill smiled slightly. “I don’t train with him per se, but he is training amongst us Inner Ring initiates.”
I gasped. “So, you’ve seen him?”
Quill quirked a brow and followed it with a smirk. “I didn’t take you for one of the many girls that gawk over the idea of the Prince.”
I rolled my eyes and nudged him with my elbow. “I do not gawk. I am simply curious.” I looked up at the obsidian castle as we entered the kingdom. “I just can’t imagine how lonely it must be for him.”
In a way, yes, I could.
As we continued our path to my cottage, I stopped and spoke again, lightly touching Quill’s arm. “Thank you, Quill. For letting me in a little.”
He smiled at me, and his face slightly flushed. His lips parted, but before he could give me a reply, a scream came from down the road.
