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“I didn’t. It was just a feeling. And a hope, I suppose.”
Fletcher felt a glow blossom in his chest. Was she already picking up his thoughts like an average shifter mate? He didn’t want to interrogate her on the subject, so he let it pass, filing it away for later consideration.
They went to the stables, arm-in-arm, where the king introduced Madison to his most noble steed, named Merlin. His horse was quite seasoned, a broad-shouldered, thick, bucking beast who was quite intimidating back in the day. He had quieted over the years, replacing the days of fast ventures through the forest for meandering through the meadows.
Madison seemed rather smitten with Merlin. She approached him with caution, whispering in a soft voice that he instantly trusted. “He’s beautiful,” she said, stroking his snout.
“He really is,” Fletcher replied, holding the reins. “I assume you have ridden before?”
Madison nodded, never taking her eyes from the mighty creature.
“Ever since I can remember. It’s been a while, though. We lost a few of the horses and never really got back into breeding when my father decided to write up the contracts for us.”
Fletcher could sense the heartbreak in her voice and wanted to soothe it. He went to the stall next to Merlin’s and opened the gate for a younger mare with a history of dramatics and showing off. She came barreling out, her rustic pelt a streak of fiery light, but Madison did not flinch. She chuckled and held her arms out to the tyke.
“And who do we have here?”
Fletcher took the mare by the reins to keep her from barreling into Madison. She was smaller but didn’t really know her own strength. The king grinned as the mare bobbed her head up and down, her energy reflecting that of the radiant Madison.
“Her name is Magic,” Fletcher said.
Madison grinned ear-to-ear. The sun had snuck out from behind the clouds, shining down on them in the stables. His future queen’s eyes swam at him, their entire future encased within the gleam of excitement and intrigue thriving there.
They mounted their separate steeds and rode out for only a few miles. The private gardens were private for a reason. Only royalty and royalty-to-be were traditionally welcomed within the grounds. That had been the rule ever since the gardens were created by Fletcher’s great-great-great grandfather, Angus Daniels. They were tended to by only the most vetted botanists and gardeners, who were sworn to secrecy after signing a lifelong binding contract.
Fletcher regaled the history to Madison as they rode out, still on the palace grounds as the wind rustled against their cheeks.
“Why is it so secretive?” Madison asked as they trotted along the pathway.
“I’m honestly not sure,” Fletcher replied, peering at the black iron gates ahead of them. “Something about wanting to keep something sacred for us, just for the family. And, of course, a few exceptional caretakers.”
They proceeded toward the gate and dismounted, trailing along to where they encountered a massive, vintage-looking lock. From his pocket, Fletcher pulled a skeleton key that was kept in a safe in his quarters. He unlocked it and pulled the gates apart. They drifted open without a sound despite their age.
Fletcher took the reins of Merlin, and Madison took Magic’s. Everything had suddenly gone quiet, but not eerily quiet. It was as if a wave of peace had washed over them, settling their nerves and softening their muscles.
The king took Madison’s hand, and they walked together through the entryway. A floral and exotic fruit parade tickled their noses, floating demurely through the air and nestling soundlessly into their pores. They could explore the grounds for days, but there was only one place Fletcher wanted to take her.
“Fletcher, what is this place?” she whispered.
“Trust me,” he said, moving forward.
They roamed past the displays of Calla Lilies, Rose of Sharon, fiddle necks, gold kiwis, pineapple guava, and Lychee swells. They came to an opening of another meadow, a vast vista of emerald seas sprawled out under a glassy powder blue sky.
Madison saw it immediately. She dropped the reins of Magic, who stood as still as stone, and clapped her palms over her mouth. When she turned to Fletcher, her eyes were glossy.
“Fletcher, I … I …”
The king took her hand again, leading her through the pasture. He had the inclination to speak in a low voice, which he often did when moving through the gardens. It had a way with everyone, something that felt like being lovingly enchanted.
“It was a gift planted in honor of our engagement, sent to us anonymously. Trenton received it this morning.”
They stopped in front of the magnificent white cherry blossom tree, its arms reaching up toward the clear sky, a triumphant gesture of freedom. The blossoms themselves hung with a silent whisper, the color of milk with an identically expressed innocence.
The majesty of the sight took Madison’s breath away. Fletcher felt their shared energy flowing through their bodies as they held onto each other, sifting through the grass to sit upon a blanket with a tasty lunch having been laid out for them. It consisted of figs, egg salad with chives, and dark chocolate tiramisu.
“Fletcher, I don’t know how I can ever thank you for this,” Madison said, still awestruck. “For welcoming me here, for bringing me into your world. This feels like paradise.”
Fletcher placed a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in close for a kiss. He had been wanting to kiss her the entire ride. Her lips were soft pink, the delicate shade of orchids.
