Page 62 of Lost Heir
Marcellus rushed to my side with a cloth to wrap my wrist. “You did something, I’ll tell you that much, but it’s far from what you’re capable of, Leila. Please promise me you'll be careful.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “I promise, Marcel. This is just the beginning. I have so much more to learn.”
For the next hour and a half, I practiced making anything more or bigger than the orb of blood. I sweated profusely as I attempted something grander, to no avail. It was a miracle I made it that far on my first try. But Marcel was right; I shouldn’t gettooexcited.
“Let’s call it a day,” Marcel suggested. “If you keep going, you’re going to pass out from blood loss. Maybe you should get some rest.” He changed the cloth to a new one to stop the bleeding.
As we packed up the books, I knew that the journey I was embarking on would be filled with unknown variables and potential dangers. But the payoff would be worth it. I was sure about that much.
As Marcel and I were leaving the gardens, we ran into Ronan, who was returning after completing his errands. His eyes went straight to my wrapped wrist, which had splotches of blood stains. His crimson eyes went wide and he rushed over, taking my arm and inspecting it carefully. “What happened?” he demanded.
I ripped my arm out of his grasp and hid it behind me. “Nothing! Just a little scratch. I wasn’t being careful.” I smiled brightly. Marcel peered over at me as the lie easily rolled off my tongue. A littletooeasily.
Diverting the attention away from my bandaged wrist, Marcel stepped forward and extended a hand to Ronan. “I don’t think we’ve formally met.”
Ronan watched me, worry evident in his gaze before I nudged him. He turned his attention to Marcel. “Oh, right,” he mumbled as he took my brother’s hand.
“I hope we can let bygones be bygones,” Marcel offered with a raised brow.
Ronan frowned. “It’s notyouI have an issue with.”
Marcel nodded. “Yes, but I’m not an innocent bystander,either. I admit I’ve hurt Lyanna in more ways than I’d care to admit.”
“That’s all in the past now,” I said as I attempted to cut through the tension.
Ronan nodded and released Marcel's hand. “For Leila's sake, we can move past it. But I'm still concerned about this 'scratch' of yours.” His gaze shifted back to me, filled with an unspoken question.
I waved the hand not wrapped in the cloth dismissively. “Honestly, it's nothing. Just got a bit too enthusiastic with some gardening.”
Marcel gave me a look that said he wasn't buying the gardening excuse any more than Ronan was, but he played along. “Yeah, she decided to take on a rose bush single-handedly. You know how stubborn she can be.”
Ronan's expression softened and a small smile played on his lips. “Yes, I'm well aware. Do you want to see the palace healer to treat the wound? I could go with you,” he offered.
“No, I should be fine,” I assured him, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt for the lie. Ronan had always been there for me and hiding the truth about blood weaving felt wrong. But I knew if I managed to master it, it would be worth it.
“Well then, I guess I should go,” Marcellus muttered as he moved to the path that led out of the garden. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lyanna.”
I waved and we watched him leave and amble back to his Western palace. Once he was gone, Ronan turned his gaze to me.
He raised a brow. “Now tell me: were youreallygardening?”
I nodded and smiled brightly. “Of course!”
He sighed. “If you’re going to lie to me, at least make itbelievable. You have the cleanest hands for someone who has been working with soil.”
My eyes widened as I looked down at my slightly red, but otherwise clean hands. Right … maybe I should have put a bit more effort into the lie. With a grin, I looped my arm in his. “Aww, come on, Ronan. I promise it was nothing bad.”
He peered over at me as if he didn’t believe a single word I said, but instead of arguing, he simply nodded. I wasn’t sure if that was preferable to him hounding me about it.
“Did you send word to your father?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. But I plan to spend every waking minute with you until I leave.” He leaned down and brought his lips to within a whisper of mine. “Think you can handle that?” He raised a brow in challenge.
I scoffed and gave him a devilish grin. “Piece of cake.”
“Good. I’ve already told your court ladies that I’ll be having lunch with you every day until I leave.”
Grinning, I stood on my tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Perfect.”
