Page 60 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
Blood rushed to my face, coloring my cheeks bright pink. “You are surrounded by liars,” I scoffed, turning away from him.
My eyes stared straight ahead; the bright blue moon smiled down at me. I asked the moon to clear my head of this nonsense, yet it seemed it enjoyed my reaction as much as Francis did.
“I beg to differ,” he whispered as though telling me a secret. “How come your face is bright red?”
“You think too highly of yourself,” I shook my head.
“I’ve been told that too, but, as you said, I am surrounded by liars.” The most genuine laugh I had ever heard from him reached me. “Thank you, Princess,” Francis added more seriously this time. “I will be forever grateful for your unique use of the sword.”
I glanced at him and spotted a soft smile on his face. The moon lit up his features. My eyes bored into the lips I’d kissed this morning.
“Seriously, though, wear a sword on you from now on.” He caught my gaze. “For protection—” He cleared his throat. “I mean, wear your sword on you for protection.”
“I don't exactly know how to wield it.” The truth slipped my lips before I could catch it.
“Of course,” he laughed once again.
I glared at him, the seriousness in my features cut his laughter short.
“You weren’t joking,” Francis’ brows flew high.
“My father used to teach me when I was a child.” I turned away from him. “I stopped practicing after his death.”
The silence in between us stretched out for what seemed to be an eternity. Only the moderate slow steps of our horses were heard in this night forest until Francis’ voice broke free.
“Well,” he cleared out his throat. “I suggest you resume your training. Especially if you wish to walk out of the castle alone.” Francis paused, before adding quietly. “People go missing, YourHighness. It is not safe.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “Each night becomes more dangerous than the night before. I suggest you not leave the castle by yourself at all.”
“I see I am a prisoner now.”
“Of course not, but perhaps walk in the company of someone you trust.”
“I do not trust a single soul here,” I shrugged, turning Annabelle off the pathway, toward the stables of his castle.
Something about Francis’ presence prevented me from being truthful. Of course there was a small part of me that trusted him, Florence, and even Roxanne—a small, almost nonexistent, part of me...
Yet I could not bring myself to say it out loud, could not let him know my vulnerabilities, my weaknesses. For it was certainly a weakness. My Royal upbringing had taught me that lesson a long while ago: everyone kept secrets and would use you for their own gain.
“Not even me?” Francis dismounted his horse.
“Especially not you,” I smiled, following his lead.
“Allow me to help, Your Highness.” Francis rushed toward me, his hand outstretched in a graceful gesture.
I rolled my eyes at him, yet still took the offer. Francis bestowed me with a smile, his eyes full of amusement.
So aware of his closeness, a shaky breath escaped me. His touch forced dozens of thorns to scratch the insides of my stomach, and despite my vow to keep my distance, my treasonous body enjoyed the long forgotten sensation.
My eyes met his, trying to find the hidden truth in them.What are you doing to me?I wanted to ask him.
His hand stretched out toward my face.How would his fingers feel on my cheek?My treasonous mind wondered.How would they feel on my lips?He gently moved a stray strand of hair behind my ear, sending panic piercing through my body.
Everything in my body stilled in fear.
Don’t you trust me, Cordelia?Timothy’s laugh was loud and clear in my mind. My long hair was in his firm grasp, forcing my face up.
“Princess?” Francis’ voice traveled through the fog in my mind, his whisper brushed my lips. Francis’ brows furrowed, pure worry written on his face.
Stop moving!He roared at me, freezing every bone in my body.
