Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

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I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU brOUGHT YOUR BOOKS WITH YOU ," Finnian drawls, lying on one of the couches by my fireplace.

"Words are food for my soul," I reply after applying my lipstick. The curls Hyacinth created yesterday now fall in loose waves down my back. I need to learn how to use those curlers.

He props himself up on his elbows while giving me a no-nonsense glare. "Raunchy romance is your soul food?"

I toss one of the big pillows from my bed in his direction. "Don't judge my flavor palate."

His laughter is drowned out when it slams into his face. He doesn't bother moving it and stays sprawled under the fluff. The sun is shining today, so I can get away with wearing the light blue dress fashioned in the same silhouette as my gown from last night and tie a white cloak with lace detailing around my shoulders.

Finnian gets to his feet, straightening out his red shirt and brown leather vest before throwing on his quiver and bow and meeting me by the door. I slip my arm through his and approach the front of the castle where we're meeting Saskia. Finnian needs clothes, too, and I wouldn't want to explore a new kingdom without him. We pass through several extravagant rooms as we glide down the equally lavish halls and make it to the last step in the entryway when voices begin filtering through the exit.

"You hate dress shopping," Saskia says.

"I love it," Cayden retorts. He kept the doors to our separate chambers open last night, but I haven't seen him this morning. The only sign of life was a half-drunk cup of coffee on his desk while I snooped around his extremely impersonal room. Two guards are always stationed at the entrance, so it's not like he left me defenseless, even though I always sleep with a knife under my pillow.

"No. You and Ryder love getting drinks while I shop for dresses."

"Wait, are we not going to the tavern?" Ryder's confused voice joins the mix.

"I told you the plans last night," Cayden states in a tone that makes me believe he's pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I thought you were joking," Ryder groans. "Why are we spending the day doing this?"

"I think I know the reason," Saskia sings.

"Elowen!" Cayden cuts off their conversation and steps around Saskia when Finnian and I exit the castle. Saskia leans forward, her ivory gown flowing around her ankles, and whispers something to Ryder that causes them both to laugh before they slowly follow behind Cayden. He throws them a glare over his shoulder and stops before me.

"Saskia Neredras." She sticks out her hand to Finnian.

"Finnian Eira." His freckled hand grasps hers.

"You're coming shopping?" I quirk a brow at Cayden.

"I'm your guard."

I clutch my chest and widen my eyes. "Are the fabrics going to bite me?"

"If they do, I promise to rip them from your body. Can't have you getting hurt on my watch." He grasps my shoulders and ushers us toward the bridge.

I roll my eyes even though he can't see. The waterfall looks gorgeous in the sunlight, and I notice a bridge that rises over the peak of the falls. I turn away from the few gondolas gliding along the lake's surface as Verendus rises before me. It's much easier to absorb the details now that flower petals aren't flying through the air and crowds aren't lining the streets.

The shops along the main road are made of mixed gray stones and dark wood; some have vines creeping up the front and sides, but all have different-colored shutters and signs. Horses trot through along the cobblestones, people walk from shop to shop with baskets on their arms, and others wheel carts of fresh fruits and delicate fabric. Gowns and swords glimmer in the sunlight from the windows of their respective shops. We pass perfumeries, apothecaries, flower shops, and taverns. Droopy trees stand tall over the town, their trunks covered in the same moss that hugs some rocks along the road.

It's overwhelming. The group chatters around me, but I focus on taking in every little detail. I never thought I would walk down a street outside Aestilian where people could smile at me, knowing exactly who I am. I've hidden who I am for so long that sometimes I don't even feel like myself. Instead of being a ghost, I can be a person. People can know my name and remember my face after I leave a tavern or a shop. I've always wanted my dragons, but I never knew how badly I wanted the opportunity to exist out in the world.

The scent of vanilla, apples, and cinnamon draws my gaze and stops me dead in my tracks. A force slams into me from behind, and I only know it's Cayden when leather-covered arms wrap around me. I jump out of his hold as if his touch burns me—it may as well have. I still feel his chest pressing into me, even with the space between us. I'm unable to meet his eyes even though I feel them on me.

"Is something wrong?" Finnian asks, his eyes scanning the area, and a knowing smile slides onto his face. "She wants to go to the bakery."

"That's a good one!" Saskia exclaims and loops her arm through mine, practically dragging me over to the pink-trimmed door with a sign in the shape of a lemon. It fits the name well: Lemon Drop Bakery.

It's a tiny establishment, nestled between two larger shops. Our bakery in Aestilian is even smaller and usually only sells bread. Nothing too extravagant considering all the ingredients required to make one cake. I inhale the sugary scent deeply as Saskia and I walk over to the counter stacked high with honeybuns, fruit tarts, lemon drop cookies, jams in jars topped with pink linen and yellow ribbons, cream puffs, muffins, and more. Cakes with more tiers than I thought possible are displayed like prized possessions, and wicker baskets filled with bread line the wall, some even containing chocolate chunks.

An elderly man with flour on his cheek steps out from behind a curtain that I'm assuming leads to the kitchen. "Oh!" he exclaims. "I didn't hear the bell. What can I get for you all?"

Finnian, Saskia, and Ryder stand at the counter to discuss the vast options. Saskia isn't short, but she looks so while standing between them. I spin around and find Cayden leaning against the wall, lazily resting a hand on the hilt of his sword and tucking the other in the pocket of his black pants. The loose white shirt under his jacket is low cut, and the undone laces procure the same effortlessly striking look as his hair.

I walk toward him against my better judgment, stepping between the lace-covered tables with daisies at the center, and his eyes track me the entire way. "Not a fan of pastries?"

He shrugs. "I suppose not."

"Perhaps you should've had more birthday cake as a boy."

"Perhaps," he echoes, his lips tilting up in an expression that's not quite a smile before he dons neutrality again. But I saw the distant look, and it's one I know well. The broken and burdened have a language of their own, and only they can understand it.

"We can split one of my favorites if you'd like." His eyes flash back to me, and I feel so immensely stupid for offering something so childish. But a half smile graces his lips as he pushes off the wall, and I tilt my head up to watch him.

"Are you being sweet to me?"

It's apparent he finds being around people irksome, and if it weren't for me, I doubt he'd be ambling about the kingdom to shop. I swallow as I take in the scar carved into his cheek and the others exposed between the neckline of his shirt. "I know what it's like to be surrounded by people but feel out of place."

A few seconds tick by that feel like hours. I'm too much of a coward to hold his gaze, but a weight lifts off my chest when I feel his hand press into my back to escort me to the counter where Ryder is double-fisting vanilla custard tarts.

"Whatever the princess wants," Cayden says when the baker looks in his direction.

"One apple tart, please."

He blinks wide eyes between us and quickly wipes his flour-covered hands on his apron and bows. "It's an honor, Your Graces. My apologies, I didn't recognize you at first."

"That's all right." I smile to calm his nerves. "I only just arrived yesterday."

He gets to work, plucking a tart from a tray and cutting it in half before wrapping it in a white doily. I reach into my pocket to pull a few syndrils free when a large, calloused hand wraps around my wrist, and Cayden drops far more than necessary on the counter.

"I'll take that flower as well," Cayden says, jutting his chin toward a vase of irises, and tucks it behind my ear when the baker hands it over. "It matches your dress."

"Thank you." My voice is hardly a whisper, riddled with shock.

The cool air feels lovely on my burning cheeks when we step out. Finnian smirks around his honeybun when he spots the vibrant petals, but Cayden remains completely unbothered as he hands me half the tart. I watch him from the corner of my eye as his jaw flexes.

"Well?" I ask.

"I'm giving you a new title. Bane of My Existence." He licks his lips and taps his free hand against his jaw, appearing very contemplative. "And Pastry Advisor."

"You like it?" A smile breaks out across my face and the relief in my tone is evident.

The corner of his lips rises. "I do."