Page 92 of Kingdom of Feathers

Her gaze shifting back and forth between Basil’s eyes in consternation, Wren nodded. Of course that was what he’d meant.

“That’s outrageous!” Basil cried, his voice loud enough to wake those of the boys still sleeping.

Wren heard an angry honk that sounded like Conan, but she didn’t look around. Her eyes were fixed on Basil’s face in fascination.

“Wren.” He took her hands, the warmth of his fingers sending sparks shooting all the way up her arms. “That’s the last thing I was thinking. I don’t know why you’re silent, but I do know it makes no difference to how incredible a person you are.” His gaze flicked to the pond. “The swans I understand even less, but to have you with me, I could live with a thousand of them.”

Wren didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even as she attempted a chuckle, a tear leaked out. Basil saw it and immediately released one of her hands so he could once again wipe it away. His palm enveloped Wren’s cheek, making it hard to think straight.

“Wren, I love you,” said Basil simply, knocking the breath from Wren’s body. “I don’t know when it started exactly, or when I knew it for sure. I think I got an inkling when I heard about your accident in the pond. And the fury I felt when I discovered it wasn’t an accident…” He shook his head slightly. “Certainly I knew it by the time you appeared in that mine, wandering in as if it was normal for you to be exploring abandoned tunnels alone.” He gave her a wry smile. “I definitely didn’t come to Myst looking to fall in love. To be frank,”—of course he had to be frank—“I really don’t have time for romance.” The tenderness of his smile robbed the words of any insult. “But I couldn’t help it, not once I got to know you.”

Wren leaned into him, everything else temporarily forgotten as she gloried in the wonder of being not only seen but loved by this incredible man.

“I thought I was being responsible by not saying all this in the mine,” Basil went on. “That I was saving us both pain. But if the alternative is you thinking you’re not good enough, then clearly I should have done this in the first place.”

And without another word, he pulled her tightly against him once more, and crushed his lips to hers. Wren’s gasp of surprise was swallowed in the insistency of his kiss, and after the first moment of shock, she felt the tension drain from her body as she molded herself against him and returned his kiss unreservedly.

If she’d thought about it—which in all honesty she had—she would have imagined Basil to be a methodical, no-nonsense sort of kisser, like he was in speech.

He was nothing like she’d imagined.

His hold was so possessive she felt utterly wrapped up in him, and his lips moved against hers with an abandon that sent heat shooting through every inch of her. She leaned up on her toes to reach him better, her hand sliding up his neck. One of Basil’s arms was wrapped around her waist, still holding her against him, but she felt the other one tangling in her unrestrained hair.

Somewhere behind her, Wren heard a loud trumpeting sound, but she had no space in her mind for anything but Basil, the feel of him, the warmth of his breath, the—

“Ow!” The cry came from Basil, his voice still breathless from their kiss. Before Wren knew what was happening, his arm had fallen from her side, and he’d stepped back. “Ouch!” he yelled again. “Stop that!”

Blinking in confusion, Wren looked down to see a flash of orange in a blur of white as a sharp beak lashed out again at Basil’s legs.

Scowling, Wren dropped to her knees and reached for the bird.

That’s enough, Conan! Leave him be!

That’s my little sister your hands are all over!Conan snapped, even though he must know Basil couldn’t understand him. He puffed out his chest, his feathers all ruffled as he attempted to lunge free of Wren’s restraining arms.

Suddenly the humor of it all hit Wren, and she rocked back on her heels, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. Basil had been wincing as he examined his injured leg, but at her laughter he looked up. A rueful expression passed over his face, and the next moment he joined her mirth. Conan flapped his wings in agitation at being laughed at, but even he seemed to realize that further attacks against Basil would just make him even more ridiculous. An admonitory honk from Caleb on the water was the final straw, and he slunk away, back toward the pond.

Still chuckling, Wren pushed herself to her feet again. She grimaced when she saw that Basil was actually bleeding, her gaze apologetic as it traveled up to his face.

He was smiling at her with such a spark in his eyes that she felt heat once again rush up her cheeks. Not least because of the timely—and somewhat horrifying—reminder that she’d just been passionately kissed for the first time in her life, and her brothers had watched it happen.

Basil stepped back toward her, but Wren had returned to reality now, and the need to understand had driven away the abandon of those reckless moments in Basil’s arms. She picked her slate up from where it had fallen beside her, and scribbled five words.

I still don’t understand why.

Basil frowned at the message, his face settling once again into serious lines. “Why we can’t be together?” he asked, and she nodded. “I thought it was obvious. I’m Entolia’s king. I will always have to live in Tola, and give my life in service to its people.”

Wren lifted her eyebrows in a silent prompt, still not sure of his point.

“Well, you’re…you’re the future monarch of Mistra,” said Basil, clearly confused as to why he had to explain it. “You are your father’s heir. Your life belongs to Mistra, so you can never belong to me.” His voice softened, a husky note entering it. “However much I might want you to.”

He stepped close again, and one hand traveled up to cradle the side of her neck. “Your father would probably have me arrested for conspiring against his crown if he knew how desperately I wish I could carry you away to Entolia with me forever.”

For a long moment, Wren just stared at him, her mind whirling. What a fool she’d been! Of course it was obvious, just as he’d said. He thought she was as tied to the Mistran crown as he was to the Entolian one, so he’d thought there was no hope for a future together. She couldn’t very well rule Mistra from Tola.

A little overwhelmed by the parade of emotions she’d been whisked through, she let out a sudden laugh. Relief washed over her as she realized that Basil hadn’t held back because he thought she wasn’t enough—he thought she was too much, too important. He thought she was something she wasn’t, and once he understood that she wasn’t her father’s true heir, there would be no more barrier to—

The reality that had temporarily fled at Basil’s touch came rushing back with triple the potency, and Wren’s laughter died on her lips. She felt so crushed by the memory of her brothers’ state that she actually swayed on her feet. Basil’s arms steadied her at once, his expression concerned and confused, but Wren couldn’t look him in the eye anymore.

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