Page 195 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Ethan grinned. “That he did.”

“But I don’t want anyone or anything to tell me what to do.”

“What else is new?” he said with a laugh.

Kierse shoved him. “Shut up.”

“You’re just so predictable. You get the best thing in the entire world with one of the best people in it and you’re like, ‘Oh man, I’d rather make the worst decision I can instead.’”

She snorted. “Wow. Thanks for the show of support.”

“What would it hurt to give Lorcan a chance?”

“If I ever need a wingman, I’ll tag you in,” she promised. “Until then, stay out of my love life. Deal with yours first.”

Ethan laughed and held his hands up. “Fair. Fair. But…you are going to see him, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, heading across the bank floor. “I guess I am.”

She left Ethan at their tree and followed the invisible string that drew taut between her and Lorcan. Back throughthe tunnel to the large wooden double doors that he had brought her to the first time she’d shown up in Brooklyn. Behind these doors was the Oak Throne.

Which could be hers.

She put her hand against the door. She could feel him on the other side, though she was uncertain what he was doing in there. Ethan’s words about giving him a chance rang in her ears.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

Then she pushed the door open.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Lorcan looked much like a spoiled prince, lounging across the Oak Throne. One foot braced over the wooden armrest. His head in his hand propped up by his elbow. A navy three-piece suit draped across his powerful figure. All he was missing was the crown slipping over his brow to complete the modern Renaissance painting.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Kierse said as she stepped into the room.

Lorcan sighed heavily before glancing up at her. “Are you mocking me?”

“Would such a visage deserve mocking?”

“And what visage is that?”

“A king sitting upon his throne,” she said, gesturing to him as she stepped up to the dais. “All you need is the crown.”

Lorcan swirled his fingers in front of him. The golden glow of his magic materialized as he spoke a few indistinguishable words. The scent of summer rain and sunshine hit her afresh as the glow solidified into a crown made of magic. Something solid and yet insubstantial. Ephemeral and molten. It was a shiny gold piece interwoven in intricate Irish knots. He lifted the piece to his brow where it fit her pretty picture perfectly.

She smirked. “There it is. I’ll remember you like thisforever.”

He gestured flippantly. “As a king?”

“Irreverent.”

He made a second circle, breathing life into a second crown. This one much smaller and almost dainty, yet powerful. It was a mirror to the first, with the same knots throughout. He held the second piece in his hand. “Then I would need an irreverent queen.”

She laughed. “Could you imagine me in a crown?”

He stood smoothly and took the step down the dais. She froze under those crystal-clear eyes as he settled the second crown easily into her dark hair.

“It suits you.”

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