I snorted a laugh. “I suppose we could, but that might be tedious.”
Her smile faded. She squeezed my hand and stopped walking.
“Seriously. What’s on your mind?”
Shaking my head, I sighed. “It’s a lot, that’s all. There’s a lot that can go wrong. So much that already has. I’m worried. That’s all. I needed to get my mind off it a bit.”
“You know it’s okay to be worried, right? I know not everyone is the great Aurelius Decimus, prince of dragons, but the rest of us are worried too.”
I groaned. “Don’t call me that. It’s damned pretentious.”
“Would you prefer something more grandiose?” She poked me gently in the side.
“Certainly not,” I said, tugging her along. “I’d rather just be Aurelius while I can. I’ve already got enough nicknames. Trust me, hearing people call me
The Peacemaker doesn’t fill me with as much pride as it used to. Not when it looks like war is inevitable. Hell, it may have already started. History will most likely look back and say it began that night in your parents’ conservatory.”
“All right, that’s it,” Elle said, slicing her hand through the air. “No more talk about that shit. Let’s talk about something totally pointless and irrelevant. What’s your favorite sitcom?”
The laugh that burst from my mouth was like a breath of fresh air. Unexpected, refreshing, and cathartic. Finally, I said, “That’s actually pretty easy.
The Golden Girls.”
Elle looked at me like I had three heads. “Seriously?
That show is like fifty years old,” she said.
“Hold on there,” I said, raising a finger. “First of all, comedy knows no time. Second, it’s a classic. Third, it’s really freaking funny. Besides, I’m gonna live for a couple centuries. I can’t get bogged down in what’s old and new.”
“Okay, okay, fair enough,” she said.
“What’s yours? Since you think mine’s ridiculous.”
She shrugged. “Can’t go wrong with
The Simpsons.”
I made a pfft sound with my lips. “Hang on, you just said my show was too old to be good. Your show is nearly that old.”
“Yeah,” she said, holding up a finger. “But it’s more culturally significant because it’s been on for like forty years. It’s lasted multiple generations.”
Already, I felt better than I had only a few minutes before finding her. Elle really did make everything better. My inner dragon was inexplicably drawn to her. It was a sensation I’d never really encountered before, and even after all these weeks together, I was trying to figure it out.
Rasp leaped out from behind a thick wall of grapevines heavy with fruit. “Hang on,” he hissed, keeping his voice low.
“For fuck’s sake, Rasp, you scared us,” I growled. “What’s going?-“
“Shh,
” he said, jamming a finger to his lips, then pointed down the hill.
Elle put her hand to her chest and grinned. “They look so sweet.”
She wasn’t talking about fruit. She was talking about Vincent and Sahalie. Vince was lying with his head in Sahalie’s lap while she read to him. Seeing my friend like that with a woman was both strange and heartwarming.
The smile on Elle’s face filled me with love. I would have given anything to spend the rest of my life lying on a blanket with Elle, just like Vince and Sahalie were doing. A life of leisure with the woman I loved and who loved me in return. Sadly, I was a prince. I had duties, obligations. One of those was having an heir. Bitter melancholy swept through, and I quickly shoved it aside.
“I saw you guys coming,” Rasp explained. “Told them I needed to talk to you about something. I used it as an excuse to get away so the two of them could have some alone time, you know?”
“Does she like him?” Elle asked, tugging on Rasp’s sleeve.
He grinned so wide I could see almost every single tooth in his mouth. “I think so, yeah. From what I can tell, anyway. They’re, like, made for each other, dude. It’s freaking perfect.”
Vincent did look really happy. His eyes were closed-face turned toward the sun-as Sahalie’s hand rested on his chest.
This was life.
This was what we should strive for. Not war, not power or money. Love, life, happiness.
Vince was one of the most powerful soldiers we had other than me and Octavius. If war came, he’d be on the front lines and might not make it back. That thought sent a bitter pang through me. He didn’t deserve to be nothing more than a lifeless corpse on a battlefield. He deserved to be in the arms of a woman who cared for him and made him happy.
As the three of us walked back to the castle, I tried to think of a way to get us out of all this. I had to stop this from escalating and becoming a full-blown disaster. But for the life of me, I couldn’t come up with anything. I would, though. I had faith in myself and my people. If there was a way out of this without bloodshed, by God, I’d find it.
BRIELLE
Iawoke the next morning, fully rested and recovered, which was a nice change from the bone weariness I had become used to. Delphine’s gentle snores drifted from across the suite. The king had given her private quarters of her own, but she still insisted on being close to me, especially since we’d rescued Aurelius.
I rolled over, snuggling deeper into the pillows. The clock on the nightstand informed me it was nine-thirty. That was typically when I’d take a coffee break at work. We usually started around seven, and even two hours into a shift, I was dying for caffeine.
Thinking about the sewing shop sent a pang of shame through me. I’d been away from work for quite a while, and I’d only spoken to Lorraine one time to tell her I was taking time off. For years, she had been so kind to me, and I’d left her in the lurch. I needed to call her. Of course, there was no way I could tell her what was really going on, but some sort of contact seemed appropriate. If nothing else, it would be good to let her know I hadn’t ghosted her.
I grabbed my phone, then tiptoed into the massive closet and changing room. After closing the door so as not to wake Delphine, I called Lorraine’s cell phone.
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