Page 99 of Love & Letter Charms
I am merely observing, came his telepathic drawl,that for someone who claims to have ‘forgotten’ her gloves, you seem remarkably unconcerned about retrieving them.
“Perhaps I’m embracing spontaneity,” Aurelise suggested, beginning to walk deeper into the gardens. “Is that not what you and Thimble have been encouraging me to do all Season?”
There is spontaneity, Spark replied, gliding alongside her,and then there is scandalous behavior designed specifically to facilitate the touching of royal persons.
Aurelise’s already warm cheeks heated further. “I haven’t the faintest notion what you mean.”
Thimble giggled.Oh, Spark, you’re such a tremendous fussbudget! This is romance! True love! The culmination of—OH!Her squeak could have shattered crystal.I SEE HIM! I SEE HIM!
Aurelise’s heart attempted to flee her chest entirely. “Oh stars,” she breathed, pressing both hands to her stomach. “Is love supposed to make one feel quite so … ill?”
According to the academic literature, Spark intoned,the physiological symptoms of romantic attachment often mimic those of mild food poisoning. Elevated heart rate, occasional lightheadedness?—
“How wonderfully reassuring,” Aurelise managed, though she was already moving toward the rose garden, drawn by an invisible thread.
Ready, my lady?Thimble asked, practically vibrating with anticipation.
Aurelise nodded, though readiness seemed an entirely foreign concept at present. She slipped between the tall rose bushes, their blooms releasing perfume into the night air, and tried to quiet her thundering pulse.
Behind her, she heard what could only be described as theatrical chaos. Thimble’s squeaks rose in what might have been an attempt at mouse-sized operatic performance, while Spark contributed several dramatic roars that wouldn’t have frightened a kitten. There was a crash, startled exclamations, and what sounded suspiciously like Lady Ellowa shrieking about her hair.
Aurelise pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh?—
“Well,” came a familiar voice, warm with amusement and accompanied by the sound of stumbling footsteps, “that was certainly subtle.”
She spun around, and there he was. Prince Ryden came to a halt before her, looking slightly disheveled, definitely startled, and absolutely perfect. His jacket bore evidence of what appeared to be tiny paw prints on the shoulders, as though he’d been physically herded into the roses.
“Hello,” she breathed.
“Hello,” he replied, and his smile was so tender, so full of unguarded affection, that her knees went rather uncertain.
“Hello,” she said again, which was ridiculous, because she was fairly certain she had just said that.
His smile stretched wider. “Hello … L.”
They stood there for a moment, simply looking at each other, twin smiles playing at their lips. The sounds of the festival seemed very far away, as though they’d stepped into their own private world where only lantern light and roses existed.
This was him. R. The man whose words had lived in her thoughts and threaded through her daydreams for so long stood before her now—real, tangible,hers. Could her heart possibly bear so much happiness?
“So,” he said finally, his voice carrying that teasing quality she’d come to adore, “I heard rumors of someone completing a certain dare list. Or very nearly completing it.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head, finding her courage somewhere in his familiar warmth. “What might you have heard?”
“Only that a certain lady—who previously insisted she could never stand up to anyone who frightened her—boldly confronted none other than the High Lady herself.”
“And Lady Rivenna Rowanwood,” Aurelise added, lifting her chin with a touch of pride. “Who I would argue is perhaps even more terrifying than your mother.”
“Oh, without question,” Ryden agreed immediately. “Mother merely rules a kingdom. Your grandmother could reduce grown men to tears with a single raised eyebrow.” He paused, his expression softening. “My mother is well aware of this. She told me that if she hadn’t already been impressed by you, watching you stand your ground against your formidable grandmother would have convinced her entirely.”
“Your mother is … impressed by me?”
“Indeed she is.” He offered another of those disarming smiles, the sort that left her knees unreliable and her pulse quite incapable of behaving itself.
She looked up at the lanterns drifting overhead, needing a moment to gather herself. “The festival is beautiful,” she said softly. “I can understand why it’s among your favorites.”
“Have you made a wish yet?”
“Not yet. Have you?”
