With a steadying breath I settled beside him and immediately became enveloped in his warmth, like I was sitting in front of a hearth. He smelled of cinnamon. I resisted the impulse to scoot closer.
“The characters are spending an inordinate amount of time doing mushy things, such as gazing into each other’s eyes, as if that could tell them anything about a person.” He frowned, pondering. “Not that I would know, considering I’ve never done it. Shall we experiment?”
I immediately lowered my eyes to my lap, my cheeks burning, but he hooked his fingers beneath my chin to raise my eyes to meet his, at first with a lopsided “this is so ridiculous I can’t believe we’re actually doing it” smirk, which quickly slid from his face. Surprise flickered in his face and he scooted closer. I did too, leaning forward, for some reason feeling the need to be close to him.
His gaze seeped into mine. His eyes were very blue, just like the sky, completely fitting for his sun-like personality. A multitude of emotions resided in them, as if they really were the windows to his soul, reflecting both his usual contentment and a bit of uncertainty.
He blinked rapidly and hastily tore his gaze away. “Your eyes are brown,” he said.
“They are.” A strange disappointment filled me at his words. After such an intense, beautiful moment, I’d expected something more.
“They’re really pretty and…oh bother. Books never mirror real life.” He held up the one that had started us down this strange path and glared at it accusingly. “The hero in this book constantly gushes accolades to his fair maiden, as if spouting poetry on a whim is effortless—and it’s not; believe me, I know—and I can’t even say anything about your eyes that doesn’t sound like…well, like a prince who has no command of his tongue.”
“Well,” I began hesitantly, “not every maiden likes poetic compliments. I, for one, prefer more natural and sincere interactions.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I suppose that means this book won’t help me in my quest. Looks like I’m on my own.”
My heart pounded. What did he mean by that? “Perhaps you simply need to read more of it.”
He sighed, as if I’d suggested braving a monstrous beast rather than a romance novel. “I’ll press forward and see if I can glean any useful tips. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy your own book.” He glanced at the cover. “Fairy tales. Excellent. Imagine me in every heroic role.”
He winked before opening his own book to another random place and reading again. Feeling slightly dizzy from our proximately and conversation, I went to the nearby settee. I’d no sooner settled than Liam spoke again.
“Lavena?” Crimson stained his cheeks and bashfulness filled his eyes. “Your eyes really are very pretty, even if I can’t give you a lovely phrase as to why. I didn’t notice your brown eyes before. I must have been blind, for they’re striking.”
He laughed nervously as he rumpled the back of his hair and returned to his book. I stared at him, my heart fluttering, and it took several minutes for me to gather myself and become immersed in my own book.
Only a few pages in and Liam grew restless. He wriggled about, shifting into a new position every few minutes, seeming unable to get comfortable.
I nibbled my lip as I watched. “Are you bored? Would you prefer we do something else?” I didn’t particularly care what activity we did, as long as we were together.
“I’m not bored.” He rolled onto his back, propped his feet up on the settee so they were elevated above him, and held the book above his head. “I haven’t the faintest idea what this story is about. It’s fantastic.”
Liam’s restlessness continued. Soon he was pacing the floor as he read, then he was circling my settee like a hawk, and finally he leaned backwards over the back of it. “I’m feeling a bit fidgety. It’s likely the book. Time for a new plan.” He scampered to the nearest shelf and yanked out an armful of books. “I’ll read a page of each and see what story emerges.”
He dumped them on the floor, opened each book to the first page, lay on his stomach in front of the first, and began to read. My own fairy tale was entirely forgotten as I watched him scoot from one book to another.
“You’re eager to experience as much of life as you can,” I said.
He looked up with a grin. “There are so many wonderful things in life to enjoy. I don’t want to miss out on a single moment.”
That was definitely Liam. It was amazing how well I felt I knew him even though we hadn’t known one another long.
I returned to my book and a peaceful silence settled over us, filled only with the rustle of our turning pages and the sounds of Liam scooting from book to book…until it seemed he couldn’t stand being even that still any longer. I sensed his wicked grin even before I looked up and saw it was aimed at me.
Trepidation filled my stomach. “Uh oh…”
He chuckled. “Uh oh is right. I’ve just had a fancy and I must humor it. Whatever you’re reading has you quite engrossed. Perhaps I should investigate why so I can get to know you better.” He crawled over to tug my book from me.
“Liam, I was reading that.”
He leaned close until he was inches away, so that I could see every freckle that dotted his nose. “Please?”
I melted immediately. Goodness, he was dangerous. “Fine, but only if you imagine yourself in the role of the villain.”
“Success!” He pumped his fists in the air before giving me a heart-stopping smile that did strange things to my insides. “Thank you for humoring me. As a token of my gratitude, I’ll give you one of my books.” He picked one at random and handed it to me with an exaggerated flourish. “Your book, milady.”
I glanced at the title and my heart leapt. “This is a book about insects.”
“Oops, not a very appealing subject for a lady. Shall I choose another?” He made to take it but I clutched it protectively against my chest; the book he’d given me at random had been the exact book I’d wanted to read. Perhaps his theory was correct: the right book had a way of finding a person at the right time. Now was the best time to immerse myself in my favorite subject, when with each passing day I felt bits of Anwen slipping between my fingers no matter how hard I tried to hold on to myself.
“I want to read this book. According to your rules, it’s chosen me.”
Liam’s expression softened. “Brave girl. Very well, if you want to.” He returned to his previous spot on the rug before casting me a suspicious look over his shoulder. “You don’t want to read it because you want to find the perfect creepy-crawly to sneak into my bed in revenge for my stealing your book of fairy tales, do you?”
I giggled. “You’ll be happy to note that revenge isn’t in my nature.”
“Of course it isn’t.” He spoke quietly, as if I wasn’t meant to hear the words. But I had, and they filled me with a warmth that was becoming a common feeling I experienced around Liam.
I lost myself in the book of insects. I felt more and more myself with each turn of the pages. Memories filled every word and sentence, taking me back to my childhood when, as a young girl, I’d first noticed a spider weaving a web in the rafters above. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a spider, but it was the first time I’d seen one at work. I’d stared, transfixed, as it wove its web in an artistic pattern. What a fascinating process. Questions filled my mind. How did a spider accomplish such a remarkable feat? Why? Did other spiders create similar webs, or were they all different, unique to the type of spider itself?
I’d begun searching for spiders earnestly in hopes of watching them build their homes from their silky thread. Soon I was capturing them to study them more closely, sketching them and scribbling my observations. It wasn’t until I caught one in front of my shrieking mother that I realized my fascination was unique to me.
She’d made me release all my spiders—saying goodbye to those I considered my pets was one of the saddest moments of my childhood. Luckily, insects were in abundance around my home in the meadow, so I searched out others
to study. A new world had opened up before me. So many insects existed around us—small and seemingly insignificant, undetected by the casual observer—but the more I studied them, the more I came to realize just how much they influenced the world around us, changing it in ways that, like them, went unnoticed.
Just like me, a common goose girl.
It wasn’t until I once again held a book about pterygota insects that I realized how much Anwen had been wilting as she was slowly smothered by Princess Lavena. I pressed the book inches from my nose, devouring each word, each fact breathing new life into me, into Anwen. My passion was like water for a plant; it nourished me and caused me to blossom.
I was jolted from my reverie of insects and their interesting habits by Liam’s sigh. I looked up in time to see him toss aside the book of fairy tales he’d stolen from me. “That book is the worst of the bunch I’ve read.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“It’s full of perfect princes who grow up to be perfect kings. Totally unrelatable. Life’s too short to read such nonsense.”
He pulled his knees up to his chest, insecurity cloaking him. I snapped my book shut and knelt in front of him. “What’s wrong, Liam?”
He traced swirls in the rug. “You seemed rather engrossed in your own book.”
I shrugged in what I hoped was an offhanded way. “It’s quite different from fairy tales.” Different and absolutely wonderful. “I was just reading about queen bees and their hives.” I couldn’t quite disguise my enthusiasm.
He raised an eyebrow. “You sound as if you enjoyed the account. Will you share why?”
Little did he realize his invitation would release a monologue about my favorite subject. I launched in immediately.
“A queen bee is an adult mated female who is the mother of most—if not all—the bees in her hive. Her sole function is to reproduce, and she can lay up to fifteen hundred eggs per day, which is more than her own body weight. Not only that, but she controls the sex of the egg, allowing her to tailor-make her hive.”
I paused to take a breath and cast him an uncertain glance. I expected to find him wearing the same bored expression every victim of my gushing recitations wore, but instead he listened with his head tilted, actually looking interested.
“Sounds…productive. The best I can do on any given day of royal duties is to not fall asleep during meetings.” He searched my expression. “You actually enjoyed the book I forced upon you? You’re lighting up.”
How could I do anything else? “It was just so…fascinating.” I hugged the book to my chest. What I wouldn’t give to find a hive, identify a queen bee, and watch her process of expanding her hive. I sighed wistfully.
Liam misunderstood it and rested his hand on top of mine, sympathy filling his expression. “So you were bombarded with royals far too perfect to be realistic, too?”
I forced myself to float down from my fascination when I heard the bitterness and sadness in his voice. Queen bees were nothing compared to the distressed prince in front of me. I’d never seen him so gloomy; it wasn’t until his usual light was missing that I realized how much it’d been a constant part of him.
He seemed so vulnerable. It was strange to see this part of him, usually hidden behind the mask of ease and confidence.
Princess Lavena wouldn’t have comforted him, but she wasn’t here. I rested my hand on his arm. He jolted but made no move to pull away. Instead he stared at where I touched him, as if confused by the presence of my hand.
“Are you afraid you’re not fit to be the crown prince?”
“I know I’m not,” he said. “I was never supposed to be the crown prince. It was Kian’s role and responsibility, not mine. I’ve inherited everything that was meant to be his—the crown and you—and I’m unfit for both.”
I flinched. “You seem to be handling me well enough.”
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said hastily.
He groaned. “Father warned me about this.”
“About what?”
He leaned closer, as if to share a secret. “Wives. He said there are certain words and phrases that don’t mean what I think they mean, like a secret code. When a woman says nothing is wrong, apparently that means everything is.” He straightened, as if bracing himself for battle. “But I will not be conquered. No code, Lavena. Just tell me what’s bothering you so we can face it head on.”
His determination softened me. I didn’t want to play games with him. “I don’t want to feel like a duty you inherited.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I admit I felt that way in the beginning, but please be assured: you don’t feel like a duty any longer.”
My heart jolted at his words, ones whose sentiments I realized I shared—this arrangement felt nothing like a duty. I flipped my hand over so our palms touched.
“I feel the same,” I whispered. “So please talk to me, Liam. Please don’t hide your feelings from me anymore. Let me share your burden.”
He smiled wryly. ”Aren’t princes supposed to be heroes?” He tapped the cover of the book of fairy tales. “We’re gallant and noble and not afraid of anything, not even dragons.”
“Everyone—prince or not—is afraid of dragons. The secret is to face them despite our fear and defeat them before they consume us.”
He swallowed. “Not all princes slay dragons.”
“Prince Liam does. He faces life head on.”
He nodded and took a deep, wavering breath, before his long-pent-up dam of emotions came tumbling out.
“Kian was everything I’m not—serious, responsible, mature, the perfect crown prince, born to be king. He fit his role, and I fit mine as the extra prince whose sole function was to be an ornament. I always knew I was the spare, but I didn’t mind. I never imagined I’d actually be needed. But then he fell ill.”
He took another long breath, his expression twisting in pain, and continued.
“It was so unexpected. He’d always been healthy and then suddenly he wasn’t. It was the scariest time of my life. Although I loved Kian, it wasn’t the thought of him dying that terrified me, but the thought of having to fill his role.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pain contorting his features. “Isn’t that terrible? I cared more about what losing Kian would mean for my life than about actually losing him.”
“I can see you loved your brother,” I said.
“I did, but not enough. I wanted him to live for selfish reasons.” He took another wavering breath. “But he didn’t. Despite my prayers, he got sicker and sicker. And then he died. I’ll never forget the moment I heard the news—the ache at losing my brother eclipsed by the fear of losing all that I was in order to take his place.
“But I can’t take his place. I’m not good enough. I never will be, no matter how hard I try, so what’s the point in trying at all? I wasn’t meant to be king; he was. It’s not fair. Who I was no longer matters; I’m only measured by the role I now fill. I can see in my parents’ expressions and those of visiting royals and dignitaries that I’m falling short. I fear they wonder why I didn’t fall ill instead of him.”
Knowing he’d carried all of this pain and insecurity all these years broke my heart. I squeezed his hand. “Believe me, Liam, I understand your feelings of losing yourself. But not only do I like who you are, but I believe you’ll make a wonderful king.”
He gawked at me. “Don’t lie, Lavena. Over the years you’ve constantly reminded me about how I’m not the man Kian was, that you wished you could have married him instead, like you were supposed to.”
I gasped. Princess Lavena had told him what? “I don’t think that.”
“But that’s what you’ve said, many times.” Pain filled his eyes at the memories. I silently cursed the princess for hurting him so deeply. I’d never hated Princess Lavena more than I did now.
I cradled his face. “I’m so sorry for those words, but I didn’t mean them. I wouldn’t want to be married to anyone but you. Please bel
ieve me.” The truth of my own admission washed over me, causing me to lean forward to fulfill my heart’s desire to be closer to him.
“Really?” He scooted closer too, eyes pleading.
“Yes, Liam. Really.”
“Then why did you change after Kian died? You were so much nicer before, but the moment you and I became bound by his contract, you became so…hardened, and the battle between us began. I always thought”—his expression twisted—“it was because you couldn’t bear the thought of marrying the inferior spare.”
My heart ached for his pain. “Liam, I’m so sorry for all you’ve experienced. Please believe me that the Princess Lavena who hurt you so deeply is not the Princess Lavena who sits before you now. Please forgive me for how I’ve treated you in the past and allow me to make it up to you.”
“And you don’t resent having to marry me instead?”
“No.” It was not only true, but it was becoming more so with each moment I spent with him. “Please don’t try to change yourself. I don’t want to be married to Kian; I want to be married to you.”
He grinned widely, and it did wonders for me to see his smile again. “As strange as it is, I’m finding I may just want to be married to you, too. You make me believe that perhaps I can bear the responsibilities placed on my shoulders—if I have you by my side.”
He slowly stroked my cheek with the back of his hand before leaning in. I kept totally still as he softly pressed his lips to my brow. It was such a gentle kiss, one that sent warm ripples washing over me that left my heart pounding.
With that simple kiss, I felt Anwen stir within me once more, and I felt even more alive than I had when reading about insects. A different passion now swirled through me, one that was foreign and slightly confusing, but beautiful…and one I wasn’t supposed to feel towards Liam.
Chapter 9
Liam was being unusually quiet as he picked at his breakfast, the flow of conversation that had been increasing each day dammed. I studied him, the memory of the insecurities he’d shared the evening before filling my mind. Did he regret baring his heart to me?
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