I blink, then a smile curves beneath the touch of his palm. “What will you give me to keep the secret?”
His chest heaves, and he looks at me as if I’m crazy. Maybe I am. Who am I to negotiate with one who is a god?
He licks his lips. Looks around. I can practically hear his thoughts rumbling like an avalanche. Then he closes his black eyes and nods as if he’s figured it out.
Slowly, he shifts forward. I feel every place our bodies touch, the movement so slow, I may expire from the pure ecstasy of it. His breath is warm on my skin. Achingly unhurried, he brings his face to mine and, ever so gently, lays a kiss on the very corner of my mouth.
“Please, Princess,” he purrs, “be a good girl and keep our little secret.”
“I swear,” I whisper.
I touch the corner of my lip, right where he kissed me. For this, I would do anything. For this, I would raze the realms.
9
Rosalina
Sometimes, I dream.
I dream of flowers, of rose bushes bursting with blue and pink and turquoise and orange blooms, with stems of deep purple. I dream of wandering through briars thick with these colorful blossoms, of getting lost within the branches.
These dreams make me sad.
I always wake to a tear-soaked pillow, my throat raw with sobs. There’s only one thing that calms me down. I drift over to my wardrobe and pull out the leather satchel, laying everything out on the bed beside the winged lion. I flip through the pages of my book, wrap myself in the gray cloak that once I found ugly but now looks like mottled snow, twist the lid off the jar and smell the rich, floral scent, and I hold tight to that silly lion.
It’s the only way I sleep anymore.
I try so hard not to do it. Last night, I put everything in the wardrobe and locked it, promising myself I would sleep with only thoughts of the Prince of Thorns. But in my dream, there were new roses this time, great golden blooms that reached for the sun. And I must have felt sadder than ever, because I awake to Heidi shaking me, her yellow eyes filled with concern.
“You’s alright, Rosalina? You were squawking and wailing like a wee baby! Must’ve been a nasty dream.”
“I… I dreamed of flowers,” I mumble, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“Of what-what?”
“Of flowers,” I repeat.
“What’s a flower? Some kind of tasty thing? Some kind of shiny thing?”
I wave my hand in the air, signaling the purple gemlights to turn on and illuminate the room. “Flowers. You know, bloomies? You love them?”
Heidi shakes her head. “Don’t know what a flower is, nor a bloomie. But they must be scary to get you all wiggly like that. Don’t you worry, Rosalina! I’m here for you! I’ll be watching, so you can sleep safe and sound.”
I narrow my eyes. Heidi loves flowers. It seems an awful strange thing to forget.
But I suppose I’ve forgotten stranger things.
10
Rosalina
“Ididn’t mean to! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Great, heaving sobs rack my body. I wrap my arms around myself, rocking on my knees, trying to gain some semblance of control, but I can’t stop my tears. I’ve upset him. Made him angry. Stupid, idiot, useless?—
The Prince of Thorns gives a silent yell and begins tearing at my briars, ripping them straight from the ground.
They’re covering my bedroom, cracking through the floor, jutting through the bedframe, and curling around the wardrobe. So many beautiful golden briars, bursting with golden roses.
