Page 123 of Crown of the Courtesan

Rett scrapes the meat from the stick and places it on our tin plates. Then he reaches and plucks two sage-green blossoms from the thick vine that encircles the trees beside us.

He squeezes a blossom over each portion—a thick, greenish substance oozes out like honey. “A delicacy of the Beast Realm. The Mellonia Flower’s nectar. Go ahead. Have some.” He waits, watching me try it.

Fifty-Three

I lift the rabbit meat to my lips. It’s covered in the sticky nectar, which drips down my fingers. A pungent floral smell tickles my nose as I take a generous bite, and a flavorful explosion of sweetness and spice explodes into my mouth. Even in Alexandria Castle, I don’t recall ever having anything quite so delicious. My eyes light up as I give Rett an approving nod. He gives me an odd stare, and I assume I must have some on my face.

He devours his food with a few quick bites while I savor the rest of mine, slowly consuming it until nothing remains and I’m licking my lips and fingers after the meal.

Rett’s orange gaze lingers on me.

My cheeks flush with warmth.

I recognize that look.

It’s the same one he had on coronation night—the night we go to great lengths not to mention or repeat.

“Compliments from an orc prince must be the last thing on your mind tonight, but I want you to know how beautiful you are, surrounded by nature, laughing, just being you. Don’t get me wrong—you’re always gorgeous—but right now you look so happy, and that is infinitely more precious than a beauty that fades.”

I rarely receive praise in the way he’s giving it. The people of Alexandria care very little about whether Lady Courtesans are content with their lot in life. We’re there to entertain. And a smile is a smile, whether it’s empty or not. My throat constricts with an emotion I fight to bury. I swallow and whisper, “Thank you.”

“I’ve also wanted to apologize to you for a while now,” he admits.

“For what?”

“Your coronation night. You’d been drinking, and it seems that I may have taken advantage of you.” He runs a hand over the under-shaven part of his hair, a nervous habit I’ve noticed when he’s uncomfortable.

I burst into laughter. “If I remember correctly, I’m the person who did the advantage-taking—not the other way around, especially since you were the one who told me no.”

“Wait a minute—how did you take advantage of me?”

“Well, you were in my kingdom, and I was the queen,” I loftily explain. “Power imbalance and all...”

His eyes dance. “So you planned to steal my virtue that night?” he asks, placing a mock hand on his chest.

“I didn’t plan anything.” I stop talking for a second, narrowly scrutinizing him. “Are you saying you’re a virgin?”

It’s his turn to burst into laughter. “Oh, fuck no.”

“So you admit to being a philanderer then?” I ask, not caring that I’m prying into his personal information. “That’s what Princess Klara labeled you as.” My heart clamps as I mention her.

Choking, he peers over the fire. “I am a man who isn’t inexperienced.”

“You should go into politics with a line like that.”

“No, thank you,” he counters. “Royalty is already political, and the stakes are much higher.”

“Why is that?”

“Because family is involved.”

Damn, he’s right.

He passes me the water pouch, and I drink until bursting. We fill up as much as we want, making multiple trips to the spring next to us.

Rett peers over the fire at the wooded horizon before turning around to face me.

For a split second, reality alters, and Ashland looks over the campfire at me with his concerned silver eyes, the same expression he wore when he woke me from my nightmare. His raven hair blows in the breeze above his concerned brow.