Page 19 of House of Blood and Roses: Vol. 2

"Probably. I mean how much more is there to learn?"

He trails a hand down my back. "I think we still have plenty. But this isn't that kind of book."

I pull it towards me, seeing the two embossed crests on the cover. I run my fingers over the first, clearly able to make out the rose of House Rothorne, whereas the other is different. A crown on a quartered background. Even though the answer is somewhat obvious, it still takes me a moment to recognise the crest of House Soveguine.

Linc's House. Despite knowing he's a prince, it's sometimes hard to remember that he's a member of the royal family, and exactly what that means.

I lift the cover of the book, surprised to find that the inside is blank. I give Linc a questioning look.

"It's a diary," he says, putting something down beside it. "And a lock."

"What do I need a diary for? I can barely write."

"For now," he responds. "And you said your lessons are going well with the tutor your father got for you."

I nod. "Lord Fallmartin has been rather amiable over the past few weeks."

"Probably because he's realised what I already knew."

I raise an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"That you'd be an asset to any House that was lucky enough to have you. As it turns out, that's my own."

I laugh. "You just think you're lucky to have me for other reasons." I turn in his arms so I can put my hand on his chest.

He puts his hand over it. "That's not true at all, Bea. You've changed my life." He meets my gaze, a sincerity there that I would expect from him, but still takes me off-guard. "I know I don't remember meeting you very well, but my life has been so much better since the moment you came to court. I was so alone. I had Marcus and Agnes, but they had lives of their own, and neither of them ever fully understood what it felt like to be thrown into this life and hate it. But as soon as you came here, that changed. You saw me for who I am, not for the title I happen to hold by an accident of birth."

"Probably because I didn't realise you had one," I point out.

"True. But I think you'd have seen me anyway." He brushes a strand of hair out of my face. "Bea, I..."

"Yes?" My voice cracks as I ask the question, sensing what I think he's about to say.

"Just, please don't go anywhere."

A surprising amount of disappointment travels through me in response to his words. "I don't plan on going anywhere," I promise.

"Good." He steps closer and I close my eyes as he presses his lips against mine.

There's something in the kiss that I can't entirely put into words. Maybe it's the admission he was trying to make, but didn't. I don't mind. As much as I want to hear him say what I think he wanted to say, I also don't want to rush him, and we have plenty of time to make admissions of that kind to one another.

We break apart, and I find myself smiling. "Thank you for my gifts," I say. "Both of them."

"You're welcome," he murmurs.

"I'm still not sure what you think I should write in the diary, though."

"Anything you want, Bea. It's a diary."

"I know, I've just never had one before," I remind him. "Sometimes it's overwhelming just how new all of this is."

"Ah, I didn't think," he responds, pulling away from me.

I think I've upset him until he comes back with a leatherbound book in his hand. He opens it and flips through the page, coming to a stop. He holds it out to me.

Slowly, I take it from him and scan over the page. "This is your handwriting," I say.

"Yes. It's my diary," he responds. "I thought you'd want to see this part." He taps the page.