Page 45 of Lana Pecherczyk

Fourteen

The royal gardens shimmered in the afternoon light as Blake stood with River, Ash, and the Summer Court royals. The journey to their mountain farming village remained a mystery, with no obvious transportation.

Ada approached, fabric rustling as she extended a packed satchel. “You left these in your bay. All those clothes were for you.”

“Oh.” Heat crawled up Blake’s neck as she accepted it, noting the thoughtfully included feminine supplies and a small vial of pink liquid inside. “I wasn’t sure…”

“This works like contraception,” Ada murmured, tapping the vial before frowning at the folded clothes. “I guess the style is different compared to your sequined dress. I only have basics besides royal attire—is this alright?”

“More than alright.” Blake traced her finger along the satchel’s edge. “You’ve been so kind.”

The truth was, she’d agonized over her outfit choice. The tight gray riding pants and elegant blouse seemed like something important people wore. Back home, women of substance wore their accomplishments with subtle displays of wealth, not the disco-ball bling Blake was accustomed to.

She’d been too self-conscious to ask Ada for a better bra than the small cotton wrap supplied. It failed to support her cleavage, which explained why she clutched the satchel to her chest like a shield.

You can’t upcycle yourself, babe.

Jeff’s parting words still haunted her. The question of why she’d awoken in this time—whyherspecifically—nagged, especially given River’s apparent preference for her absence.

Ada caught Blake’s scowl directed at River and twisted her long blond braid. Her smile softened as she glanced toward her own mate. “Don’t take anything River says too personally, but if you just can’t handle him, I want you to know you’re welcome here any time. I remember how it felt those first days.” Stone entered her gaze. “Don’t let McGrumpy push you around.”

“Mate, I wasn’t planning on it.” Blake’s grin felt genuine for the first time that day, the corners of her mouth lifting without effort.

Movement caught her eye as majestic black wings unfurled from Ash’s leather-clad back, spanning wider than she’d imagined possible. The uniform must have hidden openings to accommodate the wings. No wonder Ada had been frustrated at River’s examination. Wings that size needed space to be assessed correctly.

With a curt nod to his companions, Ash strode toward the gazebo and launched skyward, using the rose-covered roof as a springboard. Each powerful wingbeat sent air rippling against Blake’s skin. The rhythmicwhooshfaded as he climbed higher.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing that.” Trix’s awe-filled voice came from behind.

“Me neither,” Ada agreed, shielding her eyes against the sun as she tracked his ascent.

“Good to know it’s not just me.” Blake’s grateful smile faltered as she noticed who accompanied Trix.

The tall, muscular elf king wore an intricately tailored coat in forest greens and browns. The royal insignia adorned his breast pocket. Silken curtains of brown hair framed his pointed ears. Everything about him radiated regality, from his ramrod posture to something in his eyes that spoke of wisdom.

Aeron’s gaze met Blake’s and his lips stretched into an awkward smile. His hands moved fluidly as he signed to Trix,“Is this her?”

At least, Blake thought that was what he said. Her ASL was a little rusty.

Trix nodded, passing her potted plant to Ada before signing back,“Do you think this gift is stupid? I don’t want to look desperate.”

“We kind of are,”he signed and glanced at Trix’s swollen belly.

The agonized adoration in his expression made Blake’s heart splinter.

She should look away—eavesdropping was rude in any culture, especially when one party had no idea she understood their language. She’d picked up enough during countless hours watching the interpreter at Jeff’s footy commentating broadcasts. Not that he’d watched her Hidden Gems live streams often, but she’d wanted to support his post-AFL career.

The memory stabbed her. She’d traced each finger movement and memorized each hand position while Jeff droned through presentations, his voice fading to background noise. Their disparate levels of spousal support struck her now as glaringly obvious. Back then, she’d mastered the art of not noticing, of finding ways to entertain herself and still look supportive … just in case he would one day do the same in return.

Trix’s hands moved gracefully, signing for her partner’s benefit as she spoke. “Aeron, let me introduce Blake, River’s mate.”

Before he could respond, Blake put down her satchel and shaped the words:“Nice to meet you.”

Sunlight broke across Aeron’s face as he returned,“You know how to sign?”

“Only a little.”She explained her learning process while continuing to sign, though Trix had to help translate the more complex parts of the story when Blake faltered. Relief visibly softened their postures, draining tension from their shoulders.

“Wow,” Ada said. “You really do have a sharp memory.”