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“I didn’t realize you had such a low opinion of me.”
“You’re the one who hid rotten eggs in my bedroom because you were mad at me.”
“I was twelve.”
“Whatever. I still can’t get that smell out of my nose ten years later.”
A smile cracked his lips. “Your secret is safe with me, Harlow. So…is it serious?”
I didn’t have to think twice about my answer. “No.”
“Well, he seems to think it is.”
“I wouldn’t interpret the depth of his feelings based on a statue.”
“It’s not a statue. It’s a declaration of love.”
“We aren’t even sure if that statue is based on me—”
“Come on, Harlow.” He eyed me.
“Drop it,” I said in a whisper. “They’re coming.” We both rose to our feet to greet our parents.
Mother came to me first, her hands moving to my forearms to give me an affectionate squeeze. “I love those flowers.” She admired the white flowers woven into the crown made of branches.
“Thank you,” I said. “But you’re the one who’s a hot piece of ass.”
She burst into a laugh as she dropped her hands.
“You’re fire, Mother.” I looked her up and down. “That dress…”
Her laugh subsided into a grin. “Thank you, honey.” She brought me into a hug and kissed my temple.
Father came to me after he embraced Atticus.
“Doesn’t she look hot?” I asked.
A subtle grin was on his lips, but his eyes stayed on me. “Atticus tells me you chased off Violet.”
“That’s an exaggeration.” I wasn’t too annoyed, because I’d rather talk about Violet than my secret lover. Mother drifted to Atticus and smothered him in the same affection. “I just told her to take care of herself instead of expecting someone else to do it.”
“That would be fine advice if it weren’t coming from a place of privilege, Harlow.”
“I’m not coming from a place of privilege,” I said. “My father had to overthrow the barbarians who took what didn’t belong to them, and he and my mother had to defeat Necrosis to save everyone on the continent. You had to work your ass off for that crown—and that blood of survival runs in my veins.”
He stared with his crystal-blue eyes that reminded me of a frozen lake in winter. His thoughts were bottled deep inside, and the only person who could read his expression was my mother. But the seconds ticked by, and then the light returned to his eyes. “You’re so much like your mother.”
“Really?” I said. “Because she says I’m just like you.”
A subtle smile moved on to his lips as his arm circled my shoulder. He brought me in close and pressed a kiss to my temple before he let me go. “I have a meeting with the stewards. Stay out of trouble.”
“When have I ever been in trouble?”
The corner of his mouth cocked in a smile before he walked off.
* * *
I left the castle after dark and walked the cobblestone streets until I reached the shop where Ethan worked. He lived directly above it on the second floor, but I knew he worked all hours, whenever inspiration hit him, so he was probably downstairs. The door was unlocked, so I walked inside and made my way past the front counter to the wide space in the rear. A partially completed statue stood in the center, piles of broken pieces of marble on the floor beneath. He stood on top of a table, so focused on the chiseling of the stone he didn’t notice me. There were pencil marks where the cuts were supposed to happen, and he struck his tool and shaved off another piece.
