Page 83 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
“Yeah,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s been eight years.”
“That’s… a long time.” She studied his face, looking for clues to his mood. “How did it go?”
Lochlan shrugged in a way that seemed more habit than actual indifference. “It wasn’t the worst visit, but it wasn’t the best either.”
Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean? Lochlan, come on, he’s your brother.”
“Half-brother,” Lochlan said. “We share a mother.”
She hesitated. “I didn’t think princes just stop by for visits like that. I mean… you’re a prince too, but… goddess. I’m rambling. Wait—was he mean to you?”
Her body went rigid, her mind racing. If his brother had hurt him, she’d?—
“You make everything better,” Lochlan interrupted, his voice soft. A small smile graced his lips before it faded. His gaze shifted past her, and she turned to follow it. Far off, a cluster of men stood near the edge of a property across the water, their figures indistinct in the fading light. They weren’t talking. Just standing there.
A chill crept up her spine.
“Let’s go inside,” she said, voice steady. “Show me the greenhouse.”
He led her to the back and opened a vintage glass door, its surface fogged. Warm, humid air enveloped them, carrying the scent of damp earth and thriving plants. The ducks waddled past them, their little feet slapping against the floor as they greeted Jade with cheerful quacks, nibbles, and tail wags.
Nia’s eyes darted around the space, taking in the haven Lochlan had built. Fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the lush greenery. Plants were everywhere—vines draped from shelves, flowers bloomed in hanging baskets, and rare herbs thrived in carefully arranged pots.
Against one wall sat a wooden duck cottage, complete with a ramp leading to the raised floor. Nearby, a couple of wicker dog beds were scattered, each piled high with plush bedding.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She reached out to touch the delicate leaves of a nearby plant, feeling the life humming through it. Her connection to Lochlan’s magic let her sense the care and energy he’d poured into this place.
“The ducks like it,” he said with a small smile. “And so does Jade.” His dog was now curled up on one of the beds, eyeing Taco and Celia lazily as they waddled around.
“You created a haven,” she said, turning to him.
He shrugged, glancing around. “I needed somewhere to put all of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the plants. “It just… came together.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “Would you ever want to create something bigger?”
Lochlan’s gaze flicked to hers, and for a moment, a shadow crossed his face. “I don’t know,” he said after a pause.
She wanted to press, but something in his expression stopped her. “Sorry,” she said instead. “I don’t want to push. I just—after that harvest, I wished we’d had your help sooner.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said taking a deep breath. “My brother stopping by has me revisiting a lot of old wounds.”
Lochlan led her to a small outdoor kitchen area, where they sat down. Nia was quiet, sensing he needed space to share at his own pace. Jade left her duck-watching perch and jumped onto the chair beside him, resting her head in his lap. Lochlan rubbed her ears absentmindedly.
“My father passed away thirteen years ago,” he said quietly. “Five years after that, I left Dover.”
“I’m so sorry,” Nia said.
“Thank you. It was hard without him. I tried to adjust, but…” He paused, his hand stilling on Jade’s fur. “That was when it came out I was the result of a royal affair. Suddenly, I wasn’t just Lochlan—I was a prince, thrown into this life of titles and duties I never wanted.”
She reached for his hand, and he gave her a small, grateful squeeze before continuing.
“There was one place I could escape to—an atrium greenhouse my ancestors built, the same one my father worked in. It was filled with life. Plants everywhere, like this, only on a much grander scale. I could hide there, get away from the cruelty of my sister, the distant coldness of my mother.”
His fingers tensed slightly against Jade’s fur. “Thane—my brother—was never unfair to me. He just… wasn’t there. He had his own responsibilities, especially after his own father passed. Maybe we could have been closer, if I hadn’t been hidden away for so long before being thrown into their lives.”
He paused again, taking a deep breath. “Eight years ago, my sister, Drusilla, snapped. She burned the greenhouse to the ground.”
Nia’s heart ached for him. She could tell there was more, but didn’t push.
