Bolin
Stella wasn’t herself, and I suspected she’d overextended while healing the injured guard yesterday. She slumped in her chair across the table and missed several questions, forcing me to repeat the last one. A delayed blink and silence were the answer.
“Are you well?” I asked. “Do you need more rest?”
She cleared her throat and tucked strands of hair behind her ears. “I’m fine.”
As if I’d believe such an obvious lie.
I set my quill aside. “Let’s get some fresh air in the garden before Patrick comes.”
King Sartorius now allowed my husband to visit twice per week, and I savored every moment. I hoped to return soon, though I worried about leaving Stella in the palace without a friend.
Princess Valeria strolled the far path with a servant holding her arm. Plenty of room remained for us to roam. Summer air filled my lungs, bringing jasmine to my senses. My pent up nerves relaxed. Sunlight peeked through leaves, dappling the rocky trail.
Stella walked with her head too low, staring at the pebbles instead of the flora.
“What’s bothering you?” I asked.
After a moment, she murmured, “I miss everything I can’t remember.”
Her words hit hard, and I stopped my steps so I could focus only on her. “And?” I prodded in a gentle tone.
I barely caught her whispered reply. “What if I could return home?”
“It’s better to not live our lives under what-ifs. We’d go mad.”
A mirthless laugh escaped her.
Fear gripped my stomach, and I switched from friend to protector. “Throw the might-have-beens out the window and focus on what you have now. Patrick and I love you like you’re part of our family. Prince Fernando values you.”
She turned away, interrupting. “I’m nothing to him. Don’t say he does.”
I frowned. “You told me he didn’t take advantage of you.”
She shrugged, but the movement failed to dissuade me. “He left to find a wife. I’m just a bound servant to the king.”
The deafening bellow of brass horns interrupted our conversation.
She covered her ears with a wince. I sighed against the cacophony.
“It’s Fernando!” Princess Valeria shouted as soon as they stopped. “Take me to the fore room,” she demanded with glee.
They rushed into the villa.
Stella straightened and let her hands fall to her sides.
“They’ll expect us inside,” I said, wrapping my palm around her forearm and tugging gently. “Come.”
She hesitated, a stormy expression creasing her forehead.
“He may need you,” I urged, pulling her with me.
“But…” The words remained unfinished as we rushed to the villa’s entrance.
Prince Fernando
Home. We’d traveled south without issue, even with Diedre and her handmaidens slowing our pace. She was a sweet girl. Despite the lack of attraction, fondness for her grew during our journey.
One handmaiden developed an obvious crush on Rocco. During conversation, she divulged the princess was only fifteen years old. A single year older than my sister. The thought churned my stomach.
Had I not been desperate to solidify my crown, I’d have mentioned her as a potential match for Lorenzo. But we arrived with her as my betrothed wife, and she looked the part with her darkened eyelids and my bracelet dangling from her wrist.
“Fernando?” My sister’s voice hailed from the crowd of servants and royals in front of the estate entrance.
“Valeria!” I called.
I dismounted and assisted Diedre down. If she felt overwhelmed or afraid, she hid it well.
A servant guided Valeria toward us, and I rushed over and embraced her. She squealed when I hoisted her into the air and spun her like she was still a small child.
“Prince Fernando, my son.”
I lowered my sister and returned to my betrothed’s side, hoping my father would forgive my lack of propriety with my sibling. Bowing to my king, I lifted Diedre’s jewelry clad hand.
“Please meet my future wife.”
She curtsied in the northern fashion and said in a wispy voice, “It’s my honor to see the great King Sartorius in person.”
A gleam lit my father’s eyes as he kissed her knuckles. “Welcome home, my dear.”
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