24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-four

Silas

I live in a country with a monarchy. We are ruled by a king who is just and kind and benevolent to his people.

I had no clue King Magnus could slam back a shot like that.

I'm seeing a new side of the royal family, which leaves me feeling like I've stepped through the wardrobe into Narnia. I've never seen Prince Kalle look so happy, keeping a hand on Edie at all times and looking down at her with such devotion in his eyes that it's like he's a different person from the gruff former athlete who still shows up to throw balls with the high school team.

King Magnus looks like Gunnar when he grins, and he does that constantly, keeping up at least three different conversations at once and bringing anyone within arm's reach into his orbit.

He is the sun here in Battle Harbour tonight and the rest of us rotate around him, hoping for a bit of his warmth.

I understand now why men will go to battle for their king .

After three shots—shaken and stirred by Fenella behind the bar—and a pint of honey mead, I realize there is no way I can catch up to the others.

But it's still fun to try.

Ragnarok is where the LGBTQ community hangs out, so the dance floor is wide and packed, the music a loud and cheerful mix of 1990s boy band pop and recent hits. After Fenella's bartender stint is over, I pull her out onto the dance floor.

"You like to dance?" she asks with amazement, raising her voice so I can hear her over NSYNC.

"Love it." I move my shoulders, wiggle my hips, and Fenella claps her hands with delight.

"I love that you love it, because I love to dance." She does a few of the Bye, Bye Bye moves, and a space opens for us on the dance floor.

I wave to a few people that I recognize, but all the attention is on Fenella. Apparently, she has a huge following within the LGBTQ community here in Battle Harbour. There is shrieking, a few screams, a lot of hugging and countless selfies taken with her.

She smiles and accepts the adoration, but her gaze keeps returning to me.

I keep smiling and nodding and do my best to keep her in sight.

This is so much better than watching her social media posts. Fenella tonight seems like a different person from last night. It could be the alcohol, but I think it's something else .

Last night, we sat on a bench and looked at the stars. Now, she's showing off her moves to an entire bar full of admiring fans. She's getting as much or more attention than the king.

That could be because the vest she's wearing sparkles like a disco ball. It's covered in sequins—

No, they're crystals. Her vest—worn with no shirt underneath—is covered entirely in crystals.

It shines as much as she does. Her confidence is awe-inspiring. How many people can go bar-hopping with the royal family and not turn into a simpering sycophant?

Look at me—King Magnus is beside me, dancing to ABBA and I have to fight the urge to drop into a bow like a proper courtier. I've lived my whole life in Battle Harbour, and I've spoken to him once.

Now I'm dancing right beside him.

When the DJ notices the king and Duncan Laz out on the floor, ABBA changes into "Want You," which was Kr?ftig's biggest hit.

King Magnus and Duncan Laz used to be in a heavy metal band. The monarchy of Laandia has always been a little bit different.

This is what Fenella's life is like all of the time.

We stay for another few songs and then head out to Sailor's Salon, where the few patrons holding up the bar don't blink at the sight of their king's sudden appearance.

He buys a round for everyone there.

Fenella nudges me with her shoulder. "Having fun?" The lights are dimmer and her vest doesn't sparkle as much as it did in Ragnarok.

But she still sparkles. She shines, and it's hard for me to take my eyes off her.

"I was head-banging with the king. That's not my usual evening entertainment."

She grins, eyes sparkling as much as her vest. "You'll always have fun with me."

"I've never doubted that."

"Then why don't you want to kiss me?"

She catches me with my pint glass halfway to my mouth. I pause and then take a much-needed mouthful of local IPA. "I never said I didn't want to kiss you," I say carefully after I swallow.

"You didn't say it, but it seems like that." She looks down, smile fading.

"I don't think we should talk about this right now," I suggest, at a loss for what to do. She seems… disappointed? That I don't want to kiss her?

"We probably won't talk about it at all because I'm horrible at expressing my emotions. I over-react." She enunciates carefully. "That's what my parents say."

I really dislike her parents. "I think you're doing a great job expressing your emotions."

"The alcohol helps." Fenella's expression clears like the sky after a quick summer rain. "We had a lot of wine with dinner. "

"While you were dining with the royal family."

"I was." She squints at me—possibly trying to read what I'm not saying, or maybe because she's had too much to drink. "Does that bother you?"

"Nothing that you do could bother me, Fenella."

"Because we're friends."

She thinks we're friends. And we are.

While it's fun to be friends with Fenella, I can't help where my mind goes at night. Or during the day—watching her smile at the customers, making them feel like they're the most important people in her world right then.

I like her. More than I should. She's not going to be here forever, so there's no point wishing on whatever falling star that brought Fenella to me. I've already had my heart broken once and don't need to go through that again.

"I think my ride is leaving," Fenella says in a glum voice.

I glance over her shoulder. The group is gathering coats, finishing drinks. Gunnar looks over at Fenella and gestures to the door. "I thought you were staying at Edie's."

"Tomorrow. I don't have my things." Fenella leans toward me. "I guess I better go."

"Or you'll turn into a pumpkin?"

She touches my arm, runs her hand along my bicep. "I don't think I've ever seen you not wearing flannel. I miss it." I swallow as she drifts even closer, her cheek brushing against my shoulder. "I'll miss you," she whispers.

My heart gives a leap like it's doing an Olympic-worthy high dive.

She's been drinking. That much is clear. But that's not why she's saying these things. There is something here between us. I felt it from the start, only I never expected Fenella to feel it too. But still…

My hand moves of its own accord, pushing back strands of hair that cling to her cheek. It's soft, silky to the touch.

"Fenella," I begin.

"Silas." There's a challenge in her purple eyes; those eyes that hold me captive and have since the first time I saw her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gunnar and Stella move toward the door with the others. Fenella is leaving with the family. Is leaving…

It would be so easy to touch her lips with mine. Take her in my arms and kiss her with every ounce of my want.

But still… "I don't know…" It breaks the spell, pops the bubble around us, and transforms Fenella's hopeful expression. "I don't know if you… I don't know."

Disappointment floods her face. "I don't know either," she confesses. "Can we just not know? See what happens?"

"But you're leaving." The lump in my throat makes it difficult to swallow.

"Yes," she murmurs. She swallows and her lips part. All it would take is for me to lean down and brush my lips against hers .

I want to. I want to kiss her so much—I want the others to leave and keep her here with me and…

She touches my chest.

Fenella lifts a hand and rests it on my chest, curling her fingers slightly like she's fisting my shirt in her hand and for one horrified moment, I think she's going to kiss me.

And then she pats my chest and steps back. I draw in a ragged breath. "Good night, Silas," she says with resignation.

"Good night, Fenella."

I walk her outside, and she doesn't look back as she takes her spot in the royal caravan back to the castle.

It's for the best that nothing happened.

Because if Fenella Carrington kisses me, there is no way I'll ever be able to let her go.

I stand on the sidewalk with Sophie as we wave goodbye. The hour is late and the moon swings high in the sky. Clouds scud along, obscuring many of the stars. I can make out Polaris at the tip of Ursa Minor.

"That was fun," Sophie bubbles. "And totally unexpected."

"Uh-huh." I stare at the SUV until it turns the corner.

"You seem a bit stunned," she says, tucking an arm around my waist.

"I was head-banging with the king," I tell her numbly.

"Yes, but are you stunned because of King Magnus or Fenella?" Sophie asks.

I don't feel the need to answer that.