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Rue and I were entwined—like a vine that knotted around my wrist and was winding its way up my arm. I owed it to her to include her in the discussion of our future.

The evening before, she had been seated next to Mistress Milana during dinner. The older woman alternated between gushing over gossip and critiquing Rue's clothing and hair. And despite Rue’s best efforts to hide it, her discomfort slipped through her masking smile when Milana turned aside to speak to her other dining companion.

I couldn’t justify committing Rue to a life of dealing with similar people all the time without a conversation. What if she said no? What if she refused to accept the Unseelies’ need for a stable king? What if she no longer wished to be part of my life once she understood what it might entail? She hadn’t even chosen me yet, much less the potential struggles of a future together. Then again, I hadn’t given her the option.

For all I knew she had no inkling that we were linked by magic, much less by such a rare bond.

My arm burned hotter beneath my sleeve. I flexed my fingers again in an effort to ease the pain. It was long past the time for me to speak with her.

I massaged my forearm and frowned. “When does Rue rise in the morning?” I asked Raven, who somehow seemed to know everything about everyone’s schedule in the Greyson household.

“She rises with the dawn by the accounting I have heard in the servants’ hall. Why do you ask?”

“I need to speak with her.”

“I heard that Lady Greyson arranged an hour with the children midmorning. Rue might accompany her then. We could perhaps ride that way before we break from our lesson.”

I shook my head. “I need to speak to her alone.” The idea of confessing everything I had withheld from her in the presence of the far too attentive Lady Lyra made my chest tight. It was bad enough I had to bring it up with Rue herself.

“I am certain Lady Lyra would allow you to escort Mistress Rue on a brief stroll through the gardens if you ask politely.” Raven’s sharp eyes lingered briefly on my forearm and I dropped both my arms to my sides.

Raven turned toward the stables behind us. “Shall we commence our ride? The sooner we begin, the sooner you can unburden your heart to your lady.”

“What?” I asked.

Raven laughed. “Don’t bother denying it. Your attentions have been very pointed, and based on the way you were holding your arm, I suspect your new mating mark is growing uncomfortable.”

I groaned in frustration. So much for avoiding attention. “Does everyone know?”

“I can’t speak for anyone other than myself, but I believe that Lord Greyson and Lady Lyra at least suspect if not know. They have an advantage, being fated mates themselves. As for the rest of the household—” He shrugged a shoulder. “They might know or not.”

“Either way, I need to speak to Rue as soon as possible.”

“Riding first.” Raven started walking toward the stables. I reluctantly followed him, muttering about intrusive fae just loud enough for him to hear.

He laughed. “Just wait until it becomes public knowledge. The eligible maidens are going to be incredibly disappointed when they discover you are already taken. The rumors and anticipation of having an eligible young king have been swirling for months.”

“Well, then, that was their own fault.”

“That’s the idea!” Raven caught my right arm and hurried me along. “It is your life, not theirs. Now let us go for a ride.”

Chapter Twelve

Rue

“Rue! Look at me!” Mela called from across the lawn.

“Give her a moment,” Lady Lyra called back from the chair next to me. Her son’s ripped jacket was in her lap as she attempted to mend it while he waited nearby. A shade awning of fine linen stretched over our heads, blocking out some of the late morning sun as we watched Mela and Jas across the lush green lawn.

I lifted my attention from the needlework in my lap with relief. Apparently, sewing a straight seam in a woolen garment and embroidering a pattern on a bit of fine linen required very different levels of attention. My skills weren’t quite up to the minimum standard of Lady Lyra’s other attendants. The lady herself was teaching me the finer points, but I had yet to get the hang of it. Watching Mela and the other children was a much pleasanter prospect.

Mela waited to make sure I was observing before she whacked a wooden ball with a mallet, sending it bouncing erratically across the lawn toward a colorful pole at the end. Her ball landed in the middle of a cluster of other colored wooden balls with a mighty crack, and balls ricocheted in multiple directions. I had been solemnly told by Heath that the game was called Knock About.

“No!” Jas shrieked in despair. Her blonde curls bounced as she stomped her foot.

“Good shot,” Heath dutifully acknowledged from his mother’s side. “How Mela manages to keep hitting the exact center of a cluster without a lick of magic is beyond me,” he muttered under his breath.

His mother laughed softly. “Some humans are just gifted in certain skills—no magic needed.”