Page 48 of Many Ruined Vows on a Forbidden Frolic

“Hmm,” I reply sleepily. “I did not.”

“It forms in molten rock and only rises to the surface during volcanic activity.”

He pets my hair as he muses, and my heart swells to see this soft, vulnerable side of him. I could listen to him speak about his passions for hours, be it spellcarving or traveling. “Really?”

“Yes, but that’s not all. Peridots also fall to the ground in chunks of rock, like the Fallen Stars themselves.”

I nuzzle closer, the mess beneath me mostly forgotten. He pulls me tight, his strong arm holding me secure. With his worn leather and smoldering amber scent surrounding me, I drift into a state between waking and sleeping, the most content I’ve ever felt, like all of my worries are far, far away.

In my half-awake state, I hear him add softly, “Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of peridot I’ve ever seen.”

After some time, Pikr lifts my limp body, cradling me close. He drapes my dress over me like a blanket and carries me in a bundle to his lodgings, where he cleans me gently and I fall asleep safely in his arms.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Loreleivnna

Sneaking into the palace is second nature. I don’t fear being caught by my parents, and I trust the servants not to snitch. Still, there’s an added sense of urgency knowing that if I did somehow get caught, Father would give that disapproving, disgusted look, knowing I’d spent the night with my betrothed—who happens to be his very best friend, who betrayed Father’s trust to be with me.

Ugh.

I’m nearly past the throne room when I hear raised voices that send a chill down my spine.

Rarely have I heard Father skip past diplomacy straight to hostility. Despite my racing heart, I flatten against the wall of the servant’s entrance, craning around the corner as close as possible while remaining out of sight.

The voice I hear next scratches down my spine like the drag of thorny brambles. His voice. The one that invaded my memories like a noxious weed.

“The circumstances were unfortunate, but your council was ready to support—” Halor begins.

King Vyrion cuts my former betrothed short. “Swallow your rotten words before you spew venom in my home.”

Without seeing his face, I can picture the stern, unwavering expression Father bears.

“Keep your territory’s gifts,” Father spits. “The trust I have in her first mate is worth more than any economic boon. Princess Loreleivnna is safer with Vir Pikquarrys than she would ever be with you slippery serpents.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Halor drawls in his saccharine way. “Your daughter will be happy in the Isles, and Svitaeryl will know profit like it’s never experienced.”

“My daughter has chosen, and chosen well.” Father’s voice is lethal. “Your silver tongue will get you nowhere, except lower on my list of those I trust, if such a thing were possible.”

My heart swells to hear Father speak so highly of Pikr. Though Pikr hasn’t broached the subject, I know losing his closest friend has weighed heavily on him. And since I’m essentially to blame, I’ve worn the guilt like a stone around my neck.

“Respectfully, sire,” Halor tries again, stubborn and arrogant to the last. “The third princess has few responsibilities here. Wouldn’t a diplomatic arrangement benefit your realm—both of our realms—greatly? More so than becoming the wife of a disgraced sword-smithy.”

That’s enough.

Stepping out of the servant’s entrance, I clear my throat. Father’s eyes catch mine first. Halor drags his self-righteous gaze to my face, his teal eyes oozing with pretentiousness.

“Your Highness,” he drawls, bowing his head.

“Halor.” He starts to straighten, but I growl and point a steady, unshaking finger at the skyrite floor. “I do not permit you to stand. Grovel, you cheating, manipulative fiend. How dare you show your face after the pain you’ve caused?”

“I meant no harm,” Halor protests, neck still bowed. “I truly believe the life I can provide will satisfy you. I’ve been inside your heart. I know how you long for adventure.”

My lip curls in a sneer. “Foolish to pretend you know me after nothing but manipulations and stolen glimpses. Your hubris and scheming disgusts me. Get up!”

The ventus’serpentaur stands, and the hate swirling in his eyes makes my stomach roil in disgust that I ever found him attractive.

“Leave Svitaeryl and do not return,” I snap, “until you have a legitimate treaty for trade that does not include brainwashing a female into becoming your mate.”