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She was thrilled to see Poet. And she was equally happy for me.
After poking the jester’s abdomen, Cadence swiveled away and pranced down the connecting bridge while singing over her shoulder, “It’s about bloody time.”
Yes. It was most definitely time.
16
Briar
From across the walkway, Eliot strode toward us while breaking into a wide smile that rivaled the sun. On a jovial laugh, he slapped Poet’s hand with both of his, then they tugged each other into a clasping hug. “I fucking knew it,” my friend boasted, drawing back and shifting his beaming gaze between us. “It was only a matter of time.”
I had been savoring the image of them together, one of many moments I’d envisioned in dreams. However, I crossed my arms and pretended to scowl through my own grin. “You did not predict he would show up.”
“Well, I was hoping for it,” Eliot conceded. “When Cadence and I returned from the village, I went straight to groom the horses and didn’t notice your absence at first. And well, it’s a big-ass enclave, and sometimes it requires a damn odyssey to locate each other, so that’s no surprise. But the extra stallion grazing near ours was enough of a hint, considering the saddle bore Poet’s insignia.
“I drew the obvious conclusion from there, and before I could quest to your front door—just to make sure all was well, you see—Cadence had already beaten me to it. Then she blasted my way to share the news.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’d say our reunion is prime inspiration for a ballad.”
“This jester can help there,” Poet gloated. “Most people are inspired by me.”
“Neither of you have changed, then,” Eliot joked. “You two are magnetized to each other.” He flapped his wrist, as if to amend. “Not like actual elements, if you follow me. But like moths to flames or … never mind,” he chuckled ruefully, then regarded Poet while feigning exasperation. “So what the hell took you so long?”
“I made the same comment when I caught them post-fuckery without a stitch of clothing,” Cadence announced, sashaying up to us after having changed into a claret dress with a high slit up the leg.
The outfit caught my attention less than the comment. Nonetheless, my skin roasted for the hundredth discreet time, and I lifted my chin. “We were decent.”
“Yes. Decently naked by Spring standards.”
Eliot snorted. Poet’s lips slanted deeper into a smirk. My frown hardened while Cadence merely winked at me, loosening the chinks in my facade. Despite myself, a dry laugh fell from my mouth.
“Just in time,” Cadence said, trotting toward a set of intricately carved stairs roping around an oak trunk. “Who else is starving?”
Poet quirked an eyebrow. “You cook now, do you?”
Glib as ever, the lady flipped a thick lock of hair over her shoulder. “It happens.”
Eliot took one step after her, then wheeled back around. “Oh, by the way.” Pressing a fist to his mouth and concealing a perceptive grin, he fumbled in his pocket and plucked out a weathered band of scarlet, which he placed in my palm. Tipping into Poet and me, the minstrel whispered, “You dropped this.”
My mouth parted as he sauntered away with a smug—and knowing—expression. Dear Seasons. My face detonated with heat.
Before fucking me in the treehouse last night, Poet had stepped outside to gather our wet clothes and the ribbons. Traces of our escapade should have been cleared from the platforms. Yet I jammed the ribbon into the pocket of my spruce-green wool dress and then swiveled to meet the jester’s sniggering features.
“Hmm,” he said, tapping one finger to the crook of his mouth and assessing my visage. “You’re making the official Briar Face. Something on your mind, Princess?”
I scolded under my breath, “You forgot one.”
Poet wove his fingers through mine, as he’d done on the way here. As we moved to the stairs, he leaned into me and whispered, “Nay, I didn’t.”
At once, I melted into a resigned chuckle. Too joyous to mind such embarrassment, I burrowed my face in his shoulder and groaned, “What must he think?”
“Eliot hails from a sinful and rather creative nation,” the jester said blandly. “What do you suppose he thinks?”
True. Also as my best friend, Eliot was the last person who would balk at our behavior. Neither him, nor Cadence. And truly, Poet and I had done nothing to be mortified about.
Quickly, the jester muttered into my hair, explaining that he’d left the ribbon as a signal to Eliot and Cadence of his arrival, as well as a request not to disturb us this morning. My best friend must have noticed the ribbon, whereas the lady hadn’t. That explained Cadence’s appearance at my doorstep earlier versus Eliot, who would have otherwise been concerned why I wasn’t up yet.
Regardless, I knew my theatrical jester. His actions hadn’t simply been practical. This man could do nothing without making it into a spectacle.
I hooked my free hand around his bicep, shaking him gently. “You rake.”
