Page 20 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 4

“Morning.” I shuffled forward, holding the mug between both hands. “I’m not used to all of you being awake before me.”

Maddox caught me around the waist and wrapped me in his big arms. He hadn’t put on his armor yet, so his chest, though firm with muscle, was snuggly and warm. “We had much to discuss.”

Guilt feathered across my ribs. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Uh oh,” Rowan said. “There he goes again. Looking like a sad toad.”

A rough sound came from Lake—his unique laugh. He sat beside Briar at the table, both of them with steaming cups of tea in front of them.

“A sad toad?” Briar asked.

Rowan nodded. “When Evan pouts, his chin dips and his mouth goes like this.” He tucked in his chin and made a face.

“I don’t look like that,” I denied.

Maddox pressed his lips together. To keep from smiling? The jerk. “Actually… the thief and I are in agreement for once. That’s precisely how you look when you don’t get your way.”

“Y’all are so mean to me.”

Rowan stole me from Maddox’s arms and blessed me with my favorite fang-like tooth. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want anything to change. We’re just obliging that request. Besides…” He pushed his face against my neck, his warm breaths tickling my skin. “Teasing you is much too fun.”

“Yeah, well…” I rested my head on his. “I might like it. Just a little.”

A rumble had me glancing at Maddox. He placed a hand to his stomach.

I laughed. “Guess that’s my cue to start breakfast.”

Almost a year in Bremloc, and the medieval fantasy atmosphere and way of life still amazed me. No electricity. Instead, magical runes and crystals lit up rooms, kept things cold, and operated the stoves and ovens.

I ducked into the pantry, and then this world’s version of a refrigerator—powered by an ice crystal that was recharged once a month—and grabbed what I needed for banana muffins. Turning, I caught Briar scrutinizing me.

“What?” I asked, self-conscious. “Do I have a booger?”

“No, your face is perfect, love,” he said with a tight smile. “I just feel like a fool for not seeing it before. The resemblance isuncanny. Your features are more delicate, but you truly are of the royal bloodline.”

“It’s quite strange. You even look like my brother. I see why that bandit mistook you for him.”

A chill settled in my bones.

“You’re aware this makes you third in line to the throne,” he added. “Until one of the princes have children, anyway. Haran’s grudge against your father aside, that alone puts you in danger.”

Holy shit.Being in line for the throne hadn’t even occurred to me.

The cogs in my brain rattled and threatened to fall apart, like a carnival ride put together in a hurry without first checking all the screws and bolts before letting people on. I imagined the team of mini-Evans that ran my body on a rickety Ferris wheel and screaming as it crashed and burned. Muffins flying everywhere.

“I’d be a horrible king,” I said with a nervous laugh. “People would come to seek an audience with me, and I’d be in the kitchen baking cupcakes.”

Briar smiled. “I disagree.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’d be making muffins instead.”

“Not about the baking, love.” The backs of his knuckles slid over my cheek. “I believe you’d make for a fine king. Compassionate, yet resilient. Your gentle heart would touch all those fortunate enough to meet with you. And we’d all be by your side.”

I hugged him. “I don’t want a throne. I just want to spend the rest of my life with all of you.”

“And you will. We’re bound by fate.” He rested his head on mine. “At the risk of sounding like a sentimental old fool, I can’t help but say how deeply I love you.”

“I love you too.” Throat tight, I breathed in his magnolia scent. A burst of spring amid a cold winter’s morning. “Pretty sure I fell for you the night you stole those flowers.”