Page 164 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"No tea," he mumbled, tossing another shirt to the side.
Myra shifted on her feet. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He grabbed another shirt and held it up. He turned it around and around. Then he chucked it across the room. "Talk about what?"
"For starters, maybe why you keep tossing perfectly good clothes on the ground?"
Laurince shoved the clothes away and plopped down on the wooden chair. He sat on it backwards, the only comfortableposition for his wings. He rested his arms on the back of the chair and set his chin atop them. With a wave of his hand, he said, "None of them fit."
"You and Bax are similar sizes, aren’t you?"
"The size is not the problem."
"Then what—" Myra’s mouth fell open as her attention flicked to the large wings. "Oh."
Laurince hummed.
She pushed off the wall and set her chemise on the bed. Snatching a shirt from the ground, she inspected it. "Well, that’s an easy enough fix. We can cut the fabric here and here." She drew invisible lines with her finger across the back. "Then we can add some buttons, and you can slip it on like the shirt you’re wearing now, but this won’t be backwards. It’ll look…normal."
"Normal," Laurince said with a snort. "As if any of this is normal."
Myra frowned. Folding the shirt over her arm, she tipped up his chin, forcing him to look at her. "This is your new normal. Things change. Sometimes in ways we least expected them to, but that doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing."
Laurince sighed, and his lashes brushed the tips of his cheeks as he closed his eyes. "I know. It’s just…" He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the thick strands off his forehead. "It’s going to take some time."
She squeezed his arm. "Of course it is. You need time to adjust. But you know what we can do in the meantime?"
His eyes fluttered open, and gold flecks swam in his dark brown irises from the warm glow of the candles. "What?" he asked, his pupils dilating.
Myra held up the shirt between them. "We can cut all these shirts and adjust them so you’re comfortable."
Laurince moved the shirt aside. His eyes locked onto hers before dipping to her lips. "Or I could go shirtless."
Myra’s brows shot up. Goosebumps skated across her skin. A small smirk rose on Laurince’s face, and Myra suddenly had the strange desire to kiss it.
He’s hurting,she thought.This is not the time.
She cleared her throat. "Laurince," she warned.
Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. Grinning, he stretched his arm, then scratched the back of his neck. The backwards button-up bunched up at his chest, and the collar poked his chin. "Sewing really isn’t my forte."
Her mouth suddenly felt dry. "I-I can sew. You can cut."
"Hmm. I suppose we could do that."
Her heartbeat was in her ears. "Should I go get a sewing kit?"
"Or…" He grabbed the shirt from her hand, their fingers brushing.
"Or?"
He trailed his fingers over her arm, across the scattering of goosebumps. A sinful glint sparkled in his heavy, brown eyes. "I could show you other things I’m good at."
"I—" Flustered, Myra choked on her words.
Then, before she knew it, she was rushing out of the room, chemise in hand.
Chapter 65
