Page 56 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“Are you flirting with my sister, Collin?” Rowina teases, placing her own stack of books beside mine.

“Never, dear! You know Maureen is the only female for me,” he says with a wink. “What did you find this time?”

“Mmm, well, these are for me.” She gestures to a stack of four books. “But I got this one for Darian. Do you think he’ll like it?”

Collin picks up the book, flipping it over briefly before nodding. “I think it’s perfect for that son of mine. He’ll love it.”

“Darian is your son?” I sputter in disbelief. How this kind soul could have fathered the same male that threatened to kill me the first time we met is beyond my comprehension.

“One of them.” He smiles proudly. “I’ve got three.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, sir. I never would have guessed you two were related.”

Rowina giggles beside me. “Darian doesn’t much like Breyla. They’ve come to blows on more than one occasion. It’s quite the spectacle.”

I shoot Rowina a look of irritation for betraying me.

“You tell that boy of mine that he needs to treat his future queen with respect, or I’ll send his ma after him,” Collin says sternly, eyes focused on Rowina. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“I’ll make sure he knows.”

Rowina places entirely too much coin on the counter, which Collin tries to refuse, but ultimately, he fails, taking the money from her when she insists.

He wraps our books in brown paper before handing them back to us.

Rowina places a small package of cookies on the counter before leaning in and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“It was good seeing you,” she says sweetly.

“Always a pleasure, my dear.” He smiles, the lines around his eyes creasing. “Don’t be a stranger. Maureen misses you.”

“I’ll make sure Darian brings me back for your next family dinner.”

“See that you do,” he says, patting her on the cheek.

Once we’re outside, I say, “I had no idea you were so close to Darian.”

It’s not entirely truthful. I had seen the way he looked at her when they danced at the ball. It was clear they were friends, but I was still trying to work out the nature of that friendship.

“He’s my best friend, has been since we were old enough to walk.”

“And he’s in love with you,” I say, finally voicing the suspicion I’ve carried.

She blushes, her breath catching on a soft sigh. “I love him.”

“But?”

“But I’m just not attracted to males. He’s my best friend, but it breaks my heart that I can’t love him how he wants me to.”

I squeeze her arm gently, my lips turning up in what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Asking us to change who we love would be tantamount to asking the sun to rise in the west and set in the east.”

Rowina smiles back, one dark brow quirking. “Speaking from experience, Princess?”

“My track record would suggest so,” I admit, for the first time, unashamedly.

“Oh, now you have to give me the details.”

I chuckle, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. This moment feels like something I would have Ophelia, and for just a moment, I let Rowina fill the void her absence left in me.

“The first male I ever cared for romantically was the son of the leader of the Midnight Brotherhood, a mercenary guild in Rimor. He enlisted in the castle guard with the sole purpose of spying and recruiting from within.”

“Wow, that’s a lot to unpack.”

“I was the one to figure it out, but I couldn’t bring myself to execute him. Or even report it formally.”

She tilts her head, her honey-gold eyes assessing me. “Why not?”

“If you’d asked me back then... I’d have said it was pragmatic.

His father was a problem, and I knew one day he’d take his place.

I figured the devil you know is better than the one you don’t and took a chance that Cillian would be a better option than possibly inciting war with the Midnight Brotherhood by killing their heir. ”

“But that’s not the only reason, is it?”

I sigh, deliberating how to explain why I spared Cillian. “Don’t get me wrong, having a mercenary king with a life debt to you is very useful. But if that were all it was, I wouldn’t have found myself back in his bed so many times over the years.”

“Was the sex really that good?”

“That’s beside the point,” I deflect.

“It so was!” Rowina laughs, bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Calm down, you fiend. Yes, Cillian knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to the female body.

” I nudge her shoulder. “The point is that I loved him, though I would’ve never admitted that out loud.

And I couldn’t stomach the heartbreak of his betrayal and the devastation of ending his life. It would have broken me entirely.”

“When did you finally move on?”

Our walk slows outside another storefront, similar to Collin’s bookshop, though this one bears no sign. From the outside, it’s impossible to tell what it holds.

“Shortly before I realized what I felt Cillian was a fraction of what I feel for…” I trail off, remembering Ayden’s warning about there being a traitor in his kingdom, and think better of uttering Aurelius’ name out loud.

“My brother?” Rowina offers.

Bless her for saving me, whether she knows which brother I’m referring to or not.

I nod, my cheeks flushing.

She opens the door, ushering me inside.

The shop is stunning. Lavish garments cover every inch of the space.

Every color and style of clothing imaginable is available on the racks of rich fabrics, shelves of delicate lace and furs, all bathed in warm light.

I bypass the gowns and make for the back, where fur-lined cloaks and trousers hang like forbidden treasure.

A warm brown cloak with gold stitching and a white fur lining catches my eye. Upon further inspection, I find the gold stitches form the pattern of stars along the edges. I run my fingers along the collar, admiring how buttery soft the material feels.

“Find something you fancy, Your Highness?” a soft, feminine voice inquires.

I turn to find the same seamstress responsible for my engagement ballgowns. “It’s Emery, right?”

“It is, Princess.” She nods, smiling demurely. “You have a sharp memory.”

“You are immeasurably gifted,” I praise, watching her eyes light. “I’m sorry to report that something tragic happened to the gold gown, but the black one served me well.”

Emery blushes. “Ah, well. It would have been a disservice to let anyone else wear that dress. It was made for you, after all.”

“This cloak is marvelous. What fur is this?” I ask, stroking the soft inner lining.

“Snow leopard from Meloria, my lady.” She gestures to a table nearby. “There is a pair of matching gloves, as well.”

A wide grin splits my face. “That would be perfect. Can you wrap it up and have it delivered to the castle, please?”

“It would be my pleasure,” she replies, already moving.

I stroll through the rest of the shop, admiring a gown here and there, but find nothing else that truly grasps my interest.

“Are you ready to return to the castle?” Rowina asks when I find her a short while later.

Her arms are full, gowns of deep blue, black, and purple hanging from one arm and fur-lined leggings hanging from the other.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, Emery has it handled,” Rowina says, dropping her pile onto the counter, followed by a heavy bag of coin.

My brows furrow. “That seems like a hefty sum for all of that.”

Rowina shuffles me out the door, throwing Emery a wave over her shoulder as we step outside.

“That’s because I pay her well for the lengths she must go to get those leggings into the castle for me.”

My brows raise and my eyes widen in confusion. “You pay for your own leggings?”

Rowina scoffs. “Surely you didn’t think you were the only one subjected to my mother’s archaic views on female attire.”

“Actually, yes,” I reply. “I thought it was a personal attack on my comfort, or at the very least an attempt to turn me into the perfect lady-like bride for Ayden.”

“Don’t hear this the wrong way, but you aren’t that special, Breyla.” She pats my shoulder, laughing softly. “I’ve been smuggling pants into the castle for over a decade.”

“And you haven’t shared your secrets with me before now, why?” I ask as we climb into the awaiting carriage.

“What do you think I was doing today? Half those leggings were for you.”

“You are officially my favorite Mordet sibling.”

A wicked grin tilts the corners of Rowina’s plump lips. “Oh, I know. I’m very good at what I do.”

Ignoring her innuendo, I dare to voice the question that’s been eating at me since we left Collin’s shop. “Darian’s father said he had three sons. Why haven’t I heard about them before?”

Rowina stiffens, but quickly smooths her expression. “His youngest brother, Tiberius, is too young for court. He usually stays at home with their mother.”

“And the other?”.

“Malcom is…” she pauses, searching for the right words. “He’s no longer with us.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry.” My tone softens, betraying the regret I almost feel for asking these questions. “What happened to him?”

Rowina worries her lip between her teeth, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “That’s really not my story to tell.”

Sensing I’ve treaded in unwelcome territory, I reassure her, “Forget I asked. It was not my place.”

Her shoulders relax, the tension in her muscles uncoiling. The rest of the ride back is filled with trivial chatter, but I can’t help wondering what piece of the puzzle I’m missing when it comes to Darian.