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Well, that explained why he’d fought me every step of the way. Helping him had been like helping a stray cat that I’d lured into a carrier with the promise of food. The moment I’d closed the door behind him, he’d started howling bloody murder.
He ran his hand up and down my arm as he held me. His eyes were still distant when he spoke. “I did all sorts of things in the name of your court. More often than not, I got hurt. That was just part of the job to me. I would slink off and take care of my wounds myself.”
I tightened my fist in his shirt. He shouldn’t have had to live like that. I couldn’t imagine my mortal parents would have treated him like that, so it hurt to think that my fae parentsusedhim. Rhoan deserved better. He wasn’t a tool—at least, not in the literal sense.
Metaphorically, the man was a total tool.
“I’m always going to be there to help you,” I promised him.
He scoffed. “You have a job to do. That job doesn’t involve me. If you spend all your time worrying about your guard, then you’re not going to be able to do what you have to do.”
“Shut up.” I didn’t mince my words. “I’m the princess, and you’re the guard. It’s your job to listen to me. So, when I say I’m going to care for you, you let me care for you.”
Rhoan laughed. He tightened his grip on me like he was afraid that a good thing might vanish into thin air if he didn’t hold on tight. I let him crush me in his arms. It felt too good to move just yet.
This felt wrong, like sleeping with a co-worker. I knew better, but I wanted more. He took a vow as a knight. That wasn’t something I could just order away to selfishly have him all to myself.
Why did I even want him? He was a drunkard, a blustering fool, and a bit of an ass. Yet, he’d kept me safe. He’d been there every time I needed him—even if he did totter off to guzzle liquor. He always came back to protect me.
Safety was a feeling I’d forgotten. I’d become too used to flinching at the slightest of sounds. My shoulders had forgotten what it meant to be truly relaxed. Here, in Rhoan’s arms, I could imagine what comfort felt like. I could exhale and release a bit of the tension that’d been holding me together.
I couldn’t let go of it all or else I might completely fall apart, but this…this was nice.
Here, I could imagine a future where there was no more fighting. I could see my café and the long hours spent in the kitchen where the only danger was a few burns from the oven. That was nothing that I couldn’t heal. In my daydream, Rhoan came in and cupped the back of my head so that he could plant a kiss on my forehead.
Gasping, I tore myself out of Rhoan’s arms. I flung myself across the room before he could say anything. The man didn’t love me. He was here out of duty. I was dreaming up impossible circumstances, which were bound to hurt my own feelings in the long run.
“Where are you going?” Rhoan asked, startled.
“To bed.” I threw myself headlong towards my bedroom door.
Already, my arcana swelled. The garden that I’d conjured a while back spread and grew into a canopy that I could hide in. I let the wall of flowers and vines close behind me before I crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over my head.
What had I been thinking? Rhoan didn’t love me. He was here because he’d promised my biological parents that he would come back to protect me. He was here because he wanted me to start a war with the woman who’d killed my biological parents.
I snorted.
Fat chance. I wasn’t going to follow in my parents’ footsteps. If anything, I would carve a path that led away from here. I would pick up and find myself somewhere safe to settle down, even if it meant leaving my friends behind. Surely, they would understand. They would realize that I couldn’t stay here.
Addie had left. She’d moved out into the mountains with her new husband. They rented out her old family home to people staying in the city. No one batted an eye when she up and left. Surely Ness and Vi would be all right if I left, too.
Where would I go? Somewhere where fields stretched for days and where water lapped at rocky shores. The northern part of the state could be beautiful if you could get used to the smell of cows.
Just as I wrinkled my nose at the thought, I heard the creak of the wood floor. I tensed, prepared for another fight. It wasn’t a threat, though. It was only Rhoan.
I swallowed my frustrated curse and sat upright. He hadn’t yet breached the canopy of vines and flowers. Annoyed, I reached for the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out my latest research material.
Yeah, I used research to relax. Note-taking is unbelievably therapeutic. Don’t believe me? Neither do I, some days.
Feri climbed onto the nightstand. The little ferret said nothing. He simply looked between me and where we both knew Rhoan to be standing. The fae warrior still hadn’t breached the canopy. When Feri tilted his head, I shot a look of warning in his direction.
He seemed indignant, like there was a lot that he wanted to say right on the tip of his tongue. The little ferret swallowed it back down with a big gulp sound. I almost laughed. My pen slid across the page and brought my frustration back to the surface.
Ripping the page out, I crumpled it and threw it to the floor before returning back to the utilitarian properties of love draughts. This should keep me busy for a long while.
“Do you think I can slip Beryl a love potion? Make her love me like a niece and not a potential usurper?” I asked through the canopy.
Rhoan sighed. I could almost imagine him running both hands down his face in distress. The thought brought a smile to my lips.
