Page 34 of Destined for the Fae King

“Dance,” I squeak, if only to cover the way the sudden touch just twisted me up. “I like to dance.”

But his touch shouldn’t do that. It’s Vasilius that I’m here for, him that I’m trying to impress, his queen that I’m supposed to become. And all of the sudden, sitting here with Lysandir, our legs brushing and only inches between us, feels too intimate. Maybe he’s just curious about me, just doing his duty to his brother, but for me, it suddenly feels different than that. In any other circumstances, I’d be excited, overjoyed even, to be talking with a guy about books and journaling and my damn prismatic pens.

But this is Lysandir. The confusing, infuriating prince who tried to keep me from being here but then says he never disliked me and that it would mean a great deal to him to start over. He can’t lie—I know it like I know the sun rises—but something is wrong and quite possibly it’s me.

I danced for Vasilius. I’m supposed to be getting to knowhim, sharing myself withhim, not through some proxy.

All at once, I stand up, nudging the table hard enough to shift the books and send the chair sliding back in the process.

“Mira?” Lysandir half rises too, his look of curiosity shifting into concern with his pinched brows and higher volume.

“I’m sorry. It’s getting late.” I snatch up my notebook and pen from the table. “I should go. Maybe I can borrow the book to read later?” I glance at it, decide waiting for it is a horrible idea and running away would be much better, and turn to do just that. “Never mind, I can look at it another time.”

“Mira.” He touches my arm, and I go absolutely still, the entire world funneling down to that searing touch. “Is this about my question? About dancing? If you didn’t want to share—”

I pull away from him and take another step back for good measure. “It’s not.”

Not really. It’s about who I danced for, about who I should be wanting to share with, about the way my heart swelled with glee at his question in a way it never did with his brother. Thoughts race one after another as fast as my hammering pulse, and I might just hyperventilate right there if I don’t get out right this moment. A full-on panic attack is brewing like a hurricane inside me, and I need space to sort it out before it goes full cat five on me.

“Thank you for sharing the book with me. I appreciate it. It’s just a busy day tomorrow, and I need my rest. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I don’t want to be half asleep for anything, you know?” Lies. So many rambling lies.

He’s still standing there, hand outstretched right where it had been when he’d touched my arm. Slowly, he lowers it to his side, and I catch the quick clench of his fingers into a fist before they loosen again.

“Should I walk you back to your room?” he asks.

“Nope,” I squeak, far too loudly. “I’m good. I’m pretty sure the guard that escorted me here is still outside. Poor guy. I’ve left him standing there so long. It really would be rude of me to stay longer and leave him out there, so I’ll just have him show me back.”

There’s a little bob of Lysandir’s throat as he swallows, his gaze sliding down my form and back up again. And damn it if my heart doesn’t do a weird stutter at that too.

“Good night then,” he says.

“Night!” I give an awkward quick wave and too-bright smile, clutching my notebook to my chest like armor with my other hand before I twist sharply on my heel and hurry toward the door.

Chapter 13

It’s fine. I’m fine.It was quiet. We were alone and vulnerable. Of course I would feel something for him after he confessed to not having many friends. Who wouldn’t?

I’ve told myself that over and over—when I laid in bed last night, when Fia helped me get ready this morning, and even now as I sit in the garden with Bailey.

She gives me the softest nudge with her elbow, jolting me from my spiraling thoughts. “You’re still half asleep this morning.”

Not asleep. Distracted. A little half laugh slips from me.

“Good thing I have this, then.” I lift my steaming mug of coffee and take another sip.

She, on the other hand, is wide awake, despite an evening date with the king. Awake and practically glowing. Another soft sigh falls from her lips as she looks out across the dew-covered grass.

“It was that good of a date, huh?” I say.

Her smile widens, and she takes another sip before answering. “It really was. I didn’t expect it to be, but…yeah.”

Gosh, the girl is lovestruck. “And you two just…talked?”

It’s hard to believe, especially after the one-sided date I had with Vasilius. But maybe Bailey likes to listen? Maybe that wasideal for her? Or maybe her date was just wonders better than mine. Maybe I messed up somewhere and the king doesn’t want to get to know me? I squeeze the mug a little tighter between my palms. I can’t help but relive every moment of that lunch and think about how or what I could have done differently. He liked the dance though. I know that was true enjoyment on his face at the end.

“He told me all about Faery, about being king and the burdens of the role that a queen would share with him.” Bailey looks at me, her brows pinched. “I think so many women see a title like queen and get stuck on the sparkly gowns, the wealth, the privilege. But there’s so much more than that. Those are perks, no doubt, but it’s real work too, and Vasilius needs someone who can walk beside him and help carry those burdens. In some ways, it’s a lot like looking after my younger siblings back home. Always someone screaming for your attention, many needs to be met, lots of people depending on you, day in and day out.” She shakes her head, blowing out a long breath. “It’s exhausting.”

“They sound more like your kids than your siblings,” I joke, but her eyes darken, and I wonder if I’ve made a huge misstep.

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