“I heard about your father. I’m so sorry, Finn. I know how close you were.”
His father. The mention of him caught Finn off guard, and a rush of sadness stirred within him. He scratched his head and looked away. “Thank you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when he died?”
He had thought of her the entire time, wishing she had been there to comfort him. “I knew you were busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“I would have come if you had told me. It would have been no bother.”
He knew she would have been there for him if he had asked, but he had been hesitant to reach out for fear of burdening her with his troubles. “I know. Conrad and I leaned on each other.”
She tilted her head and regarded him sadly. “I wish I had been there. For you.”
She had been. Her memory had given him strength that day.
“What are you making?” she asked, staring at the carvings.
“It was going to be an angel,” he said, indicating the piece of wood he had started shaving.
“And this?” She picked up the rose he had finished earlier.
“A rose.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted as if in awe as she studied it. Her gaze was filled with admiration, longing, and intensity. “It’s so realistic. You are very talented.”
He grinned with pride and a little embarrassment. “Thank you.”
She lowered the rose and looked at him.
The beauty of the carved rose was nothing compared to her. Her soft features and delicate curves made his breath hitch, and a wave of longing washed over him. “I just made it…” he started to explain. “I thought…” His words vanished beneath her long lashes and lovely gaze. “It’s the flower of love,” he ended with as if that explained it all.
“You remembered,” she said softly.
“How could I not?” They were children when she told him, but he had remembered the way her hair had shimmered wildly in the sun. He focused on the rose. “It reminds me of you.”
She closed the distance between them and kissed him. The kiss was like a rose unfolding under his touch, blossoming in emotion and beauty. She tasted of sweet berries and spring, fresh and new. He wrapped his arms around her waist, never wanting to let go.
He wished time could stand still in that moment so they could stay together forever. But even in this dreamy state, he knew reality would soon come back. He pulled away reluctantly but kept his hands on her face as he gazed into her eyes filled with tenderness.
The nightingales began to sing louder in the forest, almost as if in alarm to bring them back to the present. Ari touched his chest lightly and smiled up at him before standing. “I should go back.”
He nodded and stood. He didn’t want her to leave but knew she had to.
She began walking back towards the castle, where suitors awaited her return. Finn felt a moment of bitterness at the thought of other men vying for her attention but hurried to catch up to her, wanting to treasure every moment he had with her. “I’ll escort you.”
She smiled at him as they walked, and it was brighter than the sun, making his heart jump.
Later that day, Finn had finished shoveling the last pile of straw out of the stable when he heard Conrad whistling—a sure sign his brother was heading into town for supplies. He took over at the forge, barely breaking stride as he slipped into the familiar rhythm of hammering, then he heard the door open. He looked up to see Lord Walter entering. His stomach churned with a mixture of acceptance and fear as the older man surveyed the room with a stern gaze. “Good day, m’lord. What can I do for you?”
“Where is Conrad?”
“He went into town,” Finn answered, wiping his brow.
Lord Walter nodded and stepped up to him. “There is something you can do for me. I don’t want you to give Arianna a gift for her contest.”
Finn felt his stomach drop. “You don’t want me to present a gift?”
“No.”
