Page 11 of Royally Arranged

In my shadow her eyes were like polished rocks at the bottom of the sea. There were a million puzzles buried in her pupils. Suddenly ... I thought she looked incredibly sad. Her expression was full of multiple lifetimes that stretched on and on, and the old rocks around us only enhanced this vision.

My chest constricted around the buzzing of my heart. Another second, and I would have crumbled under her stare. Where was all this pain coming from?

Finally her eyes closed.

Finally I brushed my mouth on hers.

“Thorne,” she whispered on my vibrating skin. Her tongue moved curiously, testing me—and I let her. Nova was both confident and uncertain. She touched me like she kept expecting me to evaporate into thin air. There was an eagerness to her palms on my shoulders ... a wonderment in how she experienced me.

Waves crashed in my ears with an insistent rhythm. The heavy noise mixed with my breathing. Mirrored my desire to smash myself on Nova until I left the same impression on her that the water had eroded into the cliffs.

But for everything I gained in this long-lasting kiss ...

I wondered why I felt like I was missing something.

- CHAPTER FIVE -

HAWTHORNE

The cathedral rose into the pale pink sky. In the distance I could hear the song of sea birds. No matter where you were in this city, the coast wasn’t far away.

A long path made from steps cut straight into the rock led toward the cathedral. It wound tighter the closer to the building I got. There was a large crowd gathered around, but all of them were prevented from getting close to the funeral by the many guards.

Each step was staffed by a man who openly displayed a rifle. Some of these guys were ours, but the rest, as far as I could tell, were all members of the royal guard. Who else could they be with their stiff-shouldered blue shirts, their embellished golden buttons down the front?

At the sight of my fast approach one of them frowned. “Hold up,” he said, blocking my way.

“It’s fine.” Glen stepped into view higher on the steps. He waved me forward. “He’s got clearance.”

The unnamed guard’s frown shifted into a confused, openmouthed gape. I felt him eyeing me with curiosity. “You heard him,” I said, pushing by. “Let me through.”

Glen’s shadow slid over me. Behind his ear the early sun had begun to show its face. “My condolences,” he said gravely.

His pity didn’t sit right with me. “I didn’t know my uncle,” I said quickly, like I wanted it to be clear no one had to feel sorry for me. I wasn’t suffering. Even the strangers surrounding the cathedral, even these nameless guards, all of them had more right to feel sad than I did.

My father’s friend hesitated—then looked away.

After that no one stopped me.

At the top of the stairs I smoothed my black suit. The huge door was partly open; I nudged my way inside. The entry was stuffed with so many flowers that the floral smell burned my nostrils. Through a second set of arches was a welcoming glow.

The interior of the church took my breath away.

Tall candelabras had been arranged beyond the threshold, lighting up the long black banners draped from ceiling to floor on the walls. Each of them was embroidered with a simple design. When I saw it, I placed a hand on the right side of my ribs. On the banners was the same symbol that had been etched into my flesh the day I’d turned eighteen; the crown was a rich crimson, the edges sharp, knifelike tips pointing toward the sky.

Stained glass curved overhead in a gorgeous display of skill and piety. The pews that flowed toward the front of the room were carved from burnished oak.

There were a number of people lining the walls and seats; everyone was dressed in stark black as a sign of respect.

Searching the wide room for my father, I saw another familiar face first. She would have been easy to miss but for the fact that she was staring right at me. Nova’s hair was wrapped in a netlike veil pinned to her tightly wound bun. The long-sleeved dress hid her curves and most of her wringing hands. But nothing hid her wide eyes.

What the hell was she doing here?

The people around her swayed; more eyes were on me now. I knew them, too. After all, I’d sat down with the Valentines just six months back in an attempt at flimsy peace. Now they were here. And Nova was with them.

In a gut punch that made me ill, I remembered who she was. It was strange that I’d forgotten ... but the woman I’d met yesterday was nothing like the shy, mousy girl who’d sat with her family as we talked about how to go forward without trying to murder each other.

ThatNova Valentine hadn’t left an impression on me. This one had.

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