Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
My chest tightened. “I’ll always lead you home.”
“This isn’t my home.”
“The right direction then.” I vowed. “I’ll always lead you in the right direction.”
Even if she walked in the opposite, I’d still find a way not to lose her, even if she didn’t know I was helping.
Even if it was Arthur or Fredrick.
It wasn’t even a depressing thought, it was just how I was made, and the minute I landed in the castle two years ago, I saw her fake smiles, her desperation, her anger.
Because why the hell should I be king, when this woman should be queen—could be queen?
Maybe that’s what I’d negotiate. Marriage for a price. I’d do what I did best, charm the pants off of everyone, and she could do what she’d already been doing and rule by my side. If that meant she chose to be with Arthur or Frederick on cold nights like this, I could look away, right? Monarchies have done that for generations with arranged marriages.
I heaved her up one more time just as we cleared the hill. The cabin was Nordic in style, like a small wooden castle. The late king, my father, had built it with his bare hands—his queen by his side. It was their escape, a small hunting cabin under the protection of the stars.
The blue and red paint drawn over the dark wood had faded, just like any sort of memory I would have had of them.
The lights were already on for me, and the firewood was stored inside as per my instructions to staff, I just hoped they’d been able to drop off the food and wine along with my journal in time.
Only one way to find out.
Samira gasped behind me, it was a small gasp or maybe large since it was hard to hear anything through the wind from the storm.
“What?” I called over my shoulder.
She squeezed my neck. “It’s perfect.”
I smiled through my freezing face. “Let’s get out of the cold.”
The door was unlocked, I used a free hand briefly to let us in and felt every inch of her body as she slid down my back.
A fire already roared from the stone fireplace, food was set at the table, not a feast but enough to make a few sandwiches with homemade bread and there was indeed a few bottles of wine at the small wooden table next to my heavily worn brown leather journal.
Samira took in the sights and kept staring at the one bed in the middle of the room.
I winced. “Told you it was small, I can take the couch.”
“I like it,” was all she said before she started playing with her hair and dusting snow out of it, but her words seemed genuine.
I liked it too, the cabin, her reaction to it, and the fact that I wasn’t by myself. “Me too.”
Chapter Five
Samira
Zautland was a very dangerous person in this sort of setting. I could mock him when he threw parties and used vulgar language, but I couldn’t mock him for wanting the small things in life, his privacy, and honoring his parents’ memory like this.
His own fortress of solitude.
“Do you want me to make you a sandwich?” he asked gently, as he shrugged out of his thick scarf and dusting off the snow, revealing perfect muscles beneath a tight navy sweater.
Distracted, I looked away at the fire and set his coat on the hook by the door. “You know how to cook?”
“Well, yes, my mom taught me how to cook, but I don’t think making a sandwich is going to be rocket science.” His chuckle was dark, warm, lovely.
I shivered from the cold. He grabbed a red Christmas quilt from the couch and placed it over my shoulders, spinning me around in it until I was wrapped up. “Better?”
I could scream at him for being so kind and perfect in the last hour and a half. My heart twisted a bit in my chest. The quilt had reindeer on it. It was warm, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone tucked me in, even from childhood. Maybe exhaustion was taking over.
He looked around the room and at one of the wooden chests at the bottom of the bed, it creaked when he opened it but it was cedar so no dust or small scary animals came out of it.
He held up a large grey cable-knit sweater, a pair of black loose-fitting pants, and some wool socks. “Bathroom’s to the right, you’ll be more comfortable and I’ll work on getting you fed.”
He didn’t have to take care of me.
I frowned and took the clothes from his hands.
For the first time since knowing him, he looked slightly embarrassed, hesitant. “I know it’s not what you’re accustomed to, I’ll be sure to put you back in jewels and dresses once we’re back at the castle.”