Page 14 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
Tessiah. I recognize the name from my history lessons. The kingdom is set on an island far off the coast of the Roviana Sea. If I remember correctly, their borders have been closed for the last hundred years.
“Indeed. Our island is home to many unique jewels.” He unclasps the livery collar from across his chest, laying it on the table. Pearls the color of spring violets dominate the ornate jewelry. They’re surrounded by palm-sized, square-cut jewels with fiery orange edges and soft peach centers. The rest of the collar is lined with an array of glittering pieces of some type of raw red stone. The collective of jewels reminds me of a sunset over the ocean.
“They’re stunning,” I breathe, caught up in their glimmering beauty.
“This one”—he unfolds a silk cloth, revealing a necklace created from dozens of the violet pearls with one of the square-cut fire stones nestled right in the center—“is a gift for the princess.”
My eyes widen, meeting his. “For me?”
He smiles again, that full mouth beckoning me toward it. “For you. May I?” He lifts the necklace toward me.
I turn to my mother who nods her approval. With her permission, I incline my head. Cassius moves behind me and gently lays the necklace over my lace collar. My hand comes up to finger the stones. They’re cool beneath my touch.
“Beautiful,” Cassius murmurs, but he is not looking at the necklace. Again, warmth creeps up my neck and bathes my cheeks.
I find myself unusually quiet for the duration of our visit. Munching on my breakfast and sipping my tea, I allow my mother to cast her wide net of questions toward our visitor. As a silent observer, I’m able to analyze every detail about the Prince of Tessiah. His looks are truly exotic. The desire to touch his skin, to see if it’s as warm as it is sun-kissed, has my fingers twitching in my lap. The necklace sits upon my throat with a weight that my imagination continually twists, allowing me to picture his hands brushing along my neck and collarbones instead. My gaze drops to his hands. They’re huge. What those fingers must be able to do…
“What do you say, Lenore?” At my mother’s expectant gaze, I scramble to recall what words were spoken during my obvious ogling. I smile, buying time. Was it something about flowers? “You wouldn’t mind giving Prince Cassius a tour of the gardens, would you?”
I lift my brows in a silentthank youfor not making me reveal my distracted musings. She shakes her head in slight disapproval.
“I’d be delighted.”
The prince rises, offering me his hand to do the same. His skin is indeed as warm as it appears. Heat flares between our palms as he clasps my fingers in his. “The flowers of Roseheart are renowned for their beauty. Will they be able to hold up against the beauty of the princess? That will grant the gardens quite the challenge.”
“You are very pretty as well,” I say, mouth slightly ajar.
Cassius makes a curious expression before softly chuckling. “Why thank you, Princess. It is not often I am called pretty.”
Now my face is full-on aflame. “Yes, I’m sure you don’t get called pretty too often. It is an odd way to compliment such a face. I only meant that your features are enjoyable to look at. Not deformed at all and pleasingly symmetrical…”Deformed?Symmetrical? What the hell am I saying? I shake my head at myself. My mother cringes. It would probably be better if I stopped letting my inside thoughts become outside thoughts.
Cassius offers me his arm, his smile effortlessly genial. “After you, Princess.”
The company of Prince Cassius is surprisingly enjoyable to keep. His flow of conversation is easy and his charming nature feels genuine and only slightly masked. There’s a sharp regality that commands the air around him, but an aura of gentleness floats atop the fiercely masculine energy. He reminds me of Heelin, one of the castle’s guard dogs. He weighs in at over fifty kilograms with the tips of his sharp black ears reaching the topof my breastbone. I’ve seen him strike down an unruly villager or violent visitor with no more effort than I would expend swatting a fly hovering above my dinner plate. He’s menacing, teeth-bared and drool raining down. But in the moments when he’s not at his post, he’s an absolute softy. Rolling over for belly rubs, chasing mice up and down the halls, tongue lolled and ears floppy. Playful, sweet, but still lethal.
That is how Prince Cassius’s energy reveals itself. To me, at least. But I’ve always had a good sense of people.
His admiration of the many plants and trees is comical. I can’t imagine a prince takes any real interest in botany or gardening. Still, he smiles, complimenting the vast prism of petal colors and decadent variety of floral fragrances. Even with the dulled sun of this grey day, the garden feels more vibrant, more alive with him walking between its rows of flowering shrubs and hanging vines.
He stops short, his overly polite mask slipping for just a moment as true wonder and surprise pass over his warm features. “You have a labyrinth?”
A smile draws my cheeks up. Aside from my secret garden, this is my favorite part of the castle. The hedge maze stands twenty feet tall and runs in a complex pattern of tunnels and dead ends that will have you turned around and lost to your surroundings in minutes. Six stars make up the majority of the maze’s structure. I’d bet it’s quite beautiful from the point of view of the birds. I spent hours in the labyrinth as a child, memorizing its swirls and secrets. I’ll admit, I called for the guards on more than one occasion. Twelve sentries line the outer wall of the labyrinth. They’re stationed equal distances apart from corner to corner and wall to wall. Their posts consist of thin-laddered platforms that allow them to see into their particular section of the maze. During every celebration, at least one couple wanders into the labyrinth for “privacy”. They almostalways end up lost, screaming like banshees by morning. It’s the guards’ job to spot them and plan a rescue-and-retrieval route.
On days when royal duties are too much to endure, I lose myself in the labyrinth. It abuts the dark forest. Which is why few venture within its walls without the borrowed confidence of the castle’s fine wine. Several have actually been lost. Even I’ve searched for those who never reemerged from within the shadowy green hedge maze. Not a bone or bit of clothing to be found. It remains quite the mystery as to where they go and what happens to them.
“Indeed,” I say. “It is known to be one of the most intricate in existence. Would you like to go inside? I assure you, I know the way in and out.”
“Are you not fearful? Labyrinths are known to be a favorite home for monsters.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.
“Roseheart is far too lovely for monsters. I hear they prefer to make homes on isolated, sea-faring kingdoms run by handsome, mysterious princes.”
“Handsomeandmysterious? To obtain two such compliments from the fair Princess of Roseheart is a treat indeed. Please continue.” A broad grin spreads across his face, his dimples springing into view. The cockiness in his tone is both attractive and infuriating.
My throat goes dry. Did I really say the handsome part out loud? Princes are used to getting their egos stroked. I’m sure girls fall all over themselves for him. I swallow, reining myself in, a mask of poise sliding over my face. “Handsome and mysterious? Apologies, Your Highness, but you misheard me. I said loathsome and delirious.”
“Ah, far more fitting for some batty foreigner prince.” He tucks his lips together, suppressing a laugh.
My own laugh sneaks out. “Batty? I never said batty. Though now that you mention it?—”
