Page 42 of To Wake a Kingdom

“I don’t mind sharing with you.” His words felt like a confession, something profound in the beat between syllables. “They kept me captive and used me to blackmail my father into better terms, into gold—you name it. They held me for months. As far as being captured by your enemy, they were actually quite good to me. They only beat and tortured me a little.”

My mouth dropped open, and he laughed.

“That’s war, Princess. It is brutal and ugly and mean. I came to respect the commander of their army. We held a lot of similar views. Eventually, my father relented to their terms, and they sent me back to Estria only a little worse for wear.

“My father was furious. Blamed me for what he’d lost in the negotiations. The gold, yes, but more importantly, the position of power he’d been hoping to gain in the Salt Shore. He also blamed me for getting myself captured. He was right. It was an error made by a young soldier, and I should have known better.”

“But you were… Youareso young. Commanding an entire army at that age.”

He shrugged, but the movement was strained. “I’d been schooled my entire life for it. That wasn’t an excuse in his eyes. As punishment, he had me whipped before my entire army. It is the worst fate for a commander—letting my men see me like that. Broken. Vulnerable. Almost destroyed. My father knew it would be much harder for me to lead them after that.”

Ronan’s eyes were distant, his mind trapped in memories.

“The healers said it was a miracle I didn’t die from my injuries, but it took months to heal. Even now, almost three years later, the scars still bother me.”

“That is—I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

He shrugged again, something raw and fleeting in his expression. My fingers flexed against the firm wall of his chest, wishing I could shovel into his soul and take away this pain.

“Did it work? Did you lose the hearts of your men?”

His smile was wan as he shook his head. “I didn’t. They rallied around me. An act for which my father never forgave them. He can do nothing because replacing an army is no small task, but my father underestimated the character of his soldiers.”

“I think he underestimated the man leading them,” I said, and his gaze shifted as though something essential had just occurred to him for the very first time.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Fingers cradling my chin, his thumb swept my bottom lip. Despite every misgiving, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it like I wanted more cream on my scones or an extra cherry on my ice cream. I wanted it like I wanted sunshine in summer and the warmth of a fire in winter.

He leaned closer, and my breath expanded to fill the space between us, my soul departing my body. My heart thundered in my ears and my limbs, down to the tips of my fingers, and pulsed into an achy wet throb. Hands curled into the fabric of his tunic, I leaned in. His mouth hovered so closely I could taste the air from his lungs.

BOOM.

A giant red plume sparkled overhead, the sound startling us both. Another boom echoed, and a huge white burst lit up the starry sky.

“Fireworks,” I breathed.

The sky flashed in purple and green and blue and pink. My mother once told me they had lit fireworks the day I was born.

Ronan and I turned to each other, regret painting a canvas between us. Our almost-kiss had been stolen away, leaving me stewing in a pot of unrequited longing.Kianna and Em approached, their body language suggesting something more than a casual relationship. Noah stood a short distance away, eyes cast toward the sky, a content smile on his face. Catching sight of us, he walked over, and we found a table to share ale and a large carafe as more fireworks rocked overhead.

A ripple of mixed emotions burrowed into the well of my chest. Mare’s constant threat hung dimly like a lamp covered in cloth, but tonight the shadows seemed more distant, held at bay by the lightness Ronan drew into my limbs. Across the small table, our gazes snapped together, the barest hint of a smile curving on his lips. Imbued with fire and heat, it sang with the promise of a future that slid through me like silken ribbons.

Chapter Nineteen

Itwastimetodraw names from the bowl of love. All of us were now a little tipsy, and I followed Noah and Em to witness the outcome, curious to see how this would play out.

A man stood on a raised platform, the giant glass bowl on a table in front of him. He reached in and pulled out a piece of paper, shouting a name. A woman jumped up, hands gripping her skirts, her eyes wide. The man grinned and shouted out another name. This time, a man called from the other end of the crowd, unmitigated joy on his face. The woman ran toward him, and they embraced, tears on their faces, as if this had been the only thing they’d been living for.

“Wow, the bowl really works,” I said, and Kianna giggled next to me.

The man reached into the bowl again.

“Em!” he shouted. “And… Christianna!”

Em cast her gaze about, body tense, as a stunning girl emerged from the crowd. She had piercing blue eyes and golden blonde hair, her snug pink dress leaving little to the imagination. Em broke into a huge smile, and Noah thumped his friend on the back with enthusiasm. It made my heart swell to see how much they cared for each other.

Conscious of Kianna, I watched her, but she only stood with her hands clasped in anticipation. Whatever she had going on with Em was none of my business, though a nosy part of me desperately wanted to pry.

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