Page 44 of Dragon King’s Duty Bride

The guilt had nibbled at her ever since she’d called Orion that morning. It wasn’t that she thought she was doing something wrong. Not exactly. But she knew how it might look. A queen alone in the woods with a musician who looked at her like she’d hung the moon.

She had just pressed her lips together and forced herself to breathe. This wasn’t about Orion. It was about the act of painting again. The music and the colors all swirled together. She had paused with her brush again, closed her eyes, and let the melody fuel her muse Orion’s playing was beautiful and loosened something tight inside her chest.

If she didn’t look at him, it was easier. Easier not to notice the way his gaze lingered. Easier not to feel like she was borrowing affection she couldn’t return.

The music swelled as a breeze brushed her cheeks. It was these moments that she forgot the walking boot strapped to her ankle. Forgot the weight of the crown. Forgot the way her heart misbehaved every time a certain king looked at her.

She let the sound fill her.

And then right in the middle of a song… silence.

The sudden absence hit harder than any sour note. Her heart gave an uneasy thump as she opened her eyes. Orion stood a few paces away, his flute lowered, his expression somewhere between startled and apologetic.

Beyond him, at the edge of the clearing, stood Lucas. Even from that distance, she felt him.

He didn’t wear his normal king attire. Instead he wore jeans and a T-shirt, but he still carried himself like royalty with his shoulders squared and jaw tight. Sunlight caught in his hair. His gaze locked on her, not Orion.

On her.

Her pulse did something ridiculous and traitorous. Orion followed her line of sight and stepped closer to her.

“Lucas,” she said faintly.

“Leave us,” Lucas said evenly with a flick of his hand. His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.

Orion hesitated and glanced at Sia as if asking permission.

Guilt pricked sharper now. She’d put him in this position. “Thank you for coming,” she told him quietly with a slight nod that it was okay to leave.

Lucas’s jaw tightened further as he approached. Orion disappeared down the path with his instrument tucked protectively beneath his arm.

The clearing had felt smaller without the music. Then Lucas stepped forward and declared his intention to take her home.

Home. The word curled around her heart in a way she wasn’t prepared for. If only it was real.

“I didn’t realize I required escorting,” she replied. She had aimed for lightness but landed somewhere closer to snarky.

She tried to push herself up from the stool, but the walking boot made everything awkward. She had to brace her palms against the wood, shift her weight carefully, and angle her injured ankle just right. The motion sent a sharp reminder of pain up her leg.

Lucas was at her side in two strides.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

“I don’t need help.”

Her balance wobbled anyway.

She straightened with effort and lifted her chin. It annoyed her that he was watching. It annoyed her more that part of her liked that he was watching.

His eyes flicked to the boot, then back to her face. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“I wasn’t alone.”

His expression cooled several degrees. “Yes,” he said and his voice slipped into that maddeningly formal tone. “I noticed.”

She crossed her arms. “If you’re about to scold me, don’t.”

“It is inappropriate,” he said smoothly, “for the queen to be consorting with a commoner in the middle of the woods.”