“The truth is that thing you eventually admit to after I kick you hard enough.” Before I’m through sitting, servants begin bringing food to the table for the three of us.
“You haven’t kicked me in years, Taryn. Why break such a good streak?”
“I think you’ve grown more annoying in the past year,” I laugh, taking a sip from the mug in front of me.
“I think he missed us,” Mira chuckles as she takes a bite of a roll.
“That I did,” he admits, smiling at the two of us. “Vanir will always be a second home.” Dary’s eyes slip to Mira for a brief moment, barely long enough for me to notice at all, and my eyebrow raises. I’ve long suspected Mira had a crush on Dary, but it’s never seemed serious enough to mention on either of our parts. I’ve never noticed before now, though, how Dary stares at Mira as if she’s the home he’s speaking of.
Chapter Two
My fists clench in my skirt, hiking it up as we march through the tall grass to the top of the knoll. Serafina follows beside Mira and me, while another servant trudges alongside Dary, carrying only a bottle of mead. Dary holds the picnic baskets the servants were meant to carry. I want to make a joke that he’s trying to impress the fair-haired girl beside him, but in truth, that’s just how Dary is.
He’s very different than most of the royals I’ve met. While he is cocky and a tad bit arrogant at times, those aren’t the core parts of his personality. He’s kind and understanding; he’s a genuinely good person and friend. I’m lucky it was Dary I was meant to marry and not some other prince. Not everyone would have been so understanding or considerate of my situation. Some would have even used it as a means of manipulation, a way to make me do what they want.
I’ve been blessed in this life. I’m not sure what I did in any past lives to warrant such fair treatment, but I’m glad for the Gods’ favor.
Serafina runs ahead of us, spreading a blanket out on the ground before Dary sets the baskets down. The fair-haired girl—I don’t know her name—smiles at each of us shyly before handing the prince the mead.
“Thank you, Danielle,” he purrs.
Mira rolls her eyes and I chuckle as I smooth my dress behind my legs and take a seat on the blanket. Mira leans casually on her side, reaching for the basket as the girls curtsy to us before scampering off.
“Danielle, is it?” Mira asks as she pops a piece of cheese into her mouth.
“It is,” Dary answers, his cheeks flushing. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t know you had a thing for the serving girls,” Mira goads him, then her eyes fall to me. “You two are so much alike.”
“We are not,” I groan, reaching for the bottle of ale. I take a long swig before setting it down again and untie my hair as I chastise Mira for her slander. “I do not have a thing for serving girls.”
“No,” Dary agrees in a stern voice. “She has a thing for what she can’t have.”
“Don’t we all,” Mira sighs wistfully.
I scoff, tossing a piece of fruit at him before grabbing another. We used to do this a lot, as children. Dary, Mira, and I would come out to the knolls that surround the castle and play for hours. Nanny would have to chase us indoors, most days.
Nothing beats laying in the grass, laughing at the sky.
Mira blows a dandelion as Dary rambles on about this Danielle of his. “I can’t pursue her, obviously. But she was flirting, what’s the harm in showing interest?”
“Oh, I can think of a few things,” I laugh. “I say have your fun while you can, Dary. One day you’ll be married, then you’ll wish you knew what the serving girl from your youth tasted like so you can dream about it when you’re old and gray.”
“That’s—” Mira chokes out. “I’m not sure if it’s poetic or disgusting. Who are you and where is Taryn?”
“I’m just saying,” I laugh, pulling my feet under my bottom as I take another sip of the mead. “We live strange lives. Our duties prevent us from following our hearts sometimes. I may have to wed someday. Even though Dary spared me and my father seems to understand I’m a sapphic, eventually, I’ll have to provide an heir. I plan to live my life the way I want to until that moment comes.”
Mira’s face softens and she reaches out, rubbing her hand down my arm. “You don’t think he’ll ever remarry?”
“I pray for it, but no. I don’t think he will ever get over my mother’s memory. Her loss haunts him. I pray for him to find a lovely woman to marry and have a family with, as much for selfish reasons as wanting my father happy. I just don’t think he will ever be far enough past his grief to accomplish that. At least, not until it’s too late.” Father is getting older. Eventually, another heir won’t be an option.
“My mother said there’s going to be a wedding lottery at the jubilee this year,” Mira whispers, excitement tinging her words as she changes the subject to something happier.
“Oh?” Dary asks, his eyebrow hiking up his forehead.
“I’m to be in it,” she squeals, clapping her hands together.
“I’m not sure why you’re in such a rush to be married,” I snicker, laying back with my head on the blanket.
“I want children, Taryn. Maybe you don’t understand because you prefer the lady maids, but—”
“Mira!” I snort.
“I do, though,” she continues. “I want a family so badly I can’t stand it. I always have. When I was a little girl, I played with my dollies and treated them just like a little newborn babe. I pretended to nurse them and everything, it was ridiculous. The want never left me, though.”
“I’m happy for you,” I laugh. “Truly, I am.”
“What will you do?” she asks, circling back to the original conversation.
“King Godfrey supports you and your preferences, Taryn,” Dary interjects. “We all do. Hell, I think most of the kingdom has come to accept you for who you are. But the issue of an heir will always be an issue unless your father takes a new queen.”
I shrug my shoulder, staring up at the blue sky. Small white clouds pass over us like little puffs of cotton spread out to break up the never-ending blue. “Who do you think will enter the lottery?” I ask Mira, avoiding my own problems as usual.
“Well, no royals, for certain,” she murmurs, and I find myself wondering why she’d think it necessary to say such a thing. Mira’s family has been merchants for generations. Only when her grandfather secured a trade route through the eastern mountains that made trading with Tabistak easier, did their family get awarded a title. “But I think that knight might enter,” she gushes. “The pretty one with the curly hair. Edin seemed to think we’d make a good match.”
“What knight is this?” Dary asks. I’m not sure how he tolerates our prattle, but he always has.
“Callum,” I laugh. “He is pretty, isn’t he?”
“He was gutted you’re a sapphic,” she drawls out slowly. I can’t see her face, but I know she’s rolling her eyes. “As always, Taryn draws the most attention.”