Page 98 of The Ever King

I jumped as Celine flinched and closed her eyes. Ten paces off, Erik leaned against an arched bower, glaring.

I despised how my pulse raced, and not from the surprise. Erik had the scarf around his head, a black hoop in his ear, and the pressed top was unlaced, revealing too much of his broad chest.

At his side, Larsson gave me a wink. Tait kept his eyes pinned to the ground. His father was Harald, the bastard who’d truly been the one to bring the war to our shores. Erik might’ve been king at the time, but he’d been young, and from what it sounded like, he’d been trapped under the influence of a vindictive uncle.

Hells, I didn’t know what to say, and merely gaped like a fool, unable to grasp the cruelty of it all.

The king looked around the garden. Only half healed, but it was more orderly and healthier. Shrubs had aligned in neat rows, tangles of weeds and nettles were taken back and replaced with berms and lush, flowering bushes.

“You’ve done all this alone?” Erik asked.

“Celine has been here.”

She raised her hands. “I haven’t lifted a finger, My King.”

“The gardens nearly look like they once did.”

“Why do you neglect them?” I asked before I could swallow the words.

“They’re not mine,” Erik said, voice flat. “They were my mother’s. Walk with me, love.”

I offered a quick glance at Celine, but she’d already moved a distance away with Tait and Larsson.

We took a few languid strides through flowering shrubs, silent for a few breaths.

“You’ve avoided me,” I said.

“Avoided? Not at all.”

“Of course, how silly of me.” I cracked three knuckles. “I haven’t dined alone, slept alone,beenalone but for Celine and Alistair, whom, by the way, is quite fond of me.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I thought you would appreciate knowing you have freedom to go about as you please without a king breathing down your neck.” Erik stopped and leaned his face closer. “Unless you’d like me to.”

I took a step back, irritated, a little overheated. “I’m managing fine.”

Erik smirked. “Good. But I do have need to speak with you about something. Your magic, I want to understand it. Even those parts Narza said you’re afraid to talk about.”

“I’m . . . I’m not afraid.”

He tapped the side of his head, a twist to his lips. “Bonded, love. I know there are parts that frighten you, and I want to understand the darker parts.” He looked at the vibrant garden. “Seems rather bright to me, but you did mention you see frightening things. I want to understand, to better protect you.”

Breaths tightened in my chest like a tangle of knotted ribbons. “Protect me from what?”

“You were revealed as a powerful earth fae, a vein of power for the throne, that power attracts all manner of crooked gazes. That bastard we killed in Skondell? There are more pirates like him out there. I’ve seen you fight—”

“And you mocked me.”

“Sewell told me your footwork improved, so I think what you mean is I assisted you.” Erik’s hand rested on my cheek. “I won’t hide dangers from you, not when you deserve to hear them.”

He didn’t treat me like some fragile piece of glass; he told me to breathe and take the good with the bad. Erik let me shoulder it, let me know the truth to find a way to live with it, instead of the fear.

It took a moment, but his steady gaze, the warmth of his palm kept me grounded and firm until the knot faded, and the thoughts of all the dreary unknowns slid back into the crags and crevices of my mind.

“People always keep darker truths from me,” I whispered.