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I cup the back of her head and claim her mouth, pouring everything I have into that kiss. I was always taught to guard my vulnerabilities, but with Daisy, I want her to know them all. To know every crack and fault, for her to understand that everything I do, even blocking the bond, is for her.
When we break apart she says, “Two things? Stop blocking the bond and please don’t stop calling me little flower. I like that nickname.”
“I hate that he used it.” That was something only the two of us shared.
“Fuck him,” she says with a shrug. “I’m your little flower, and you’re my grumpy.”
“I thought I was big guy?”
“You are, but big guy is to little flower like grumpy is to sunshine.”
I smile for the first time since leaving the great hall. “You’re saying there’s a hierarchy in our nickname game?”
“Yes, and I need to be your little flower if you’re grumpy.” The determined look on her face tells me there’s no rationalizing why we should pick another nickname.
“Do you always get what you want?”
“Only with you,” she says with a wicked grin. “Now kiss me before I get really mad.”
“Anything for you, little flower.”
THIRTY-SIX
My mate is tiny, but she is mighty
ORCUS
A week passes without another run-in with my father. There hasn’t been an opportunity to test Zyla’s spell, but I have confidence the witch won’t let any harm come to Daisy. I can’t wait to see my father’s face when he realizes he lost his hold over me. Callum’s spell could easily send Daisy home, far away from my father, but Zyla’s protective charm has me selfishly keeping her here with me.
Every second I’m not doing something for the kingdom, I’m with Daisy. I had planned to spend the morning in bed with her, but she kicked me out hours ago. She told me she had to meet with my mother to go over things for the bonding ceremony and coronation ball. I would’ve stayed, but I’m also happy to not spend hours picking out tablecloths and napkins.
“Sulking in the library? You really are a brooding prince.” Orlena drops into the seat across from me, draping one leg over the side. Her outfit is more suited for sparring than it is for princessing, and her curly hair is secured at the back of her head.
“And you really are a stalker.”
“Good one, Brother.” She shakes her head. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, your mate finally realized how ugly you are.”
“You know, you were once my favorite sister,” I say, fighting a grin.
“I’m still the favorite.”
“Oh?”
She scoffs. “Please. Oretta is too worried about her dresses to really bother being a good sister. Orana is still young and hasn’t had time to get to know you like I have.”
“Oraya?”
“That’s my biggest threat. She’s sneaky, that one, but even still, I know more than any of them what it’s like to disappoint our father.”
I hum and study her. Orlena, for the most part, is aloof. She refuses to play princess, and as the eldest daughter of the king… that’s a bold decision. Our mom doesn’t care what we do, so long as we’re happy. Our father on the other hand…
“You’re perfect the way you are, you know that?”
She slaps her palm to her chest. “Aw. How sweet of you to say that, wish I could say the same for you…”
