Chapter 13

Flora

It is almost midnight on Torben’s 35th birthday, and everyone in the kingdom is celebrating.

Well, everyone but our oh-so close-knit family.

The four siblings and our parents are in the usual balcony box overlooking the plaza, waving to well-wishers and sitting through speeches, the ringing of the bells, and all manner of other wacky Gravenland traditions.

My oldest brother, Torben, is under pressure to pick a wife soon, but he doesn’t seem all that interested.

Neither am I. I’ve brought my knitting along because I’m trying to finish this sweater for Callum in time for Christmas.

Because my three brothers cannot exist in a space without arguing, Etienne soon begins to needle Sigurd about his deer-hunting expeditions. “Your friend, the gamekeeper, rounds them up for you. Not much of a fair fight if you ask me.”

At the mention of the gamekeeper, I look up from my knitting. The words form on my lips. I want to ask, “What about Callum?” But I stop myself. Torben, Etienne, and Sigurd all give me a curious look, and I go back to knitting.

The boys continue their bickering, and on the twelfth bell, Mother starts to hiss about keeping ourselves in check.

She is drowned out when the crowd says, “Happy Birthday, Prince Torben.”

“Smile,” Torben reminds the grumpy Sigurd. “The paps are watching.”

“Good; I hope they catch the royal introduction of my fist to Etienne’s groceries,” Sigurd says.

“For me. Ignore the little bastard; just this once. You owe me,” Torben pleads.

Poor Sig does his best to ignore the drunk Etienne, but that won’t last long.

The crowd below transitions into the Gravenland national anthem.

I continue my knitting, which annoys Torben.

He leans over and gestures, and I look up from my knitting. “What are you waving those pretty gloved hands at me for, brother? I’m minding my business,” I say.

“Stand up,” he barks.

“Why?”

“Because everyone can see you!”

“I’m trying to work this knot out,” I tell him, though I know I’m being a brat.

“Flora, please.”

I huff, “I’m not bothering anybody, and this song will last an hour. You can’t expect me to stand through the entire thing.”

“Flora,” he grumbles.

I give him a dirty look. “Why don’t you get laid already and leave the rest of us alone,” I mutter, standing but keeping my needles in my hand. I don’t want to lose my place, and with how these boys behave, chaos is about to erupt, and I don’t have my row counter. Besides, Callum carved these needles for me, and it feels good to hold on to them when he’s not around.

I wave at the crowd, joining in on the third verse of the Gravenland national anthem against my will.

Will this song never end?

Etienne, clearly bored also, stands up on his chair and lifts his goblet above his head, which really pumps up the crowd. Wine spills from his goblet, splashing all over Sigurd.

Oh, shit.

Sig pounces at Etienne and knocks the goblet out of his hand.

I can’t watch this. I’m going to focus on my knitting.

Apparently Uther and his men aren’t here to interfere with sibling altercations. The kilted wonder is currently fussing over the queen, which suits me fine. He’s been breathing down my neck ever since I ditched him in the woods last year.

Their stupid shoving match intensifies, and I move toward the balcony’s edge.

These boys are ridiculous.

Before I can consider putting more distance between my brothers and me, someone bumps me from behind me with full body force, and I tumble over the edge.

The only thing keeping me from tumbling to the ground is one of Callum’s thick wooden needles, around which the yarn is tied in a snarling knot. The one I was trying to undo while Torben was fussing at me.

I look up at Sigurd’s panicked face.

Is this how I die?

Jesus, look at the three of them. They can’t even decide how to rescue me.

I could use Uther’s help now, but I only want one person. Callum. But he can’t be with me. He won’t be anywhere near me, not after Uther found us trudging from the cave, me in Callum’s arms in a full panic attack.

For some reason, Sigurd lets Etienne help, and that’s when I fall for real, tumbling to the plaza five stories below.

I brace for impact.

To my utter shock, someone catches me.

Callum!

Oh, but it’s not Callum. It’s…

“Who are you?”

The stranger who broke my fall is here one moment and gone the next.

“Flora!” Callum cries out amongst the crowd, and I spin around, searching for him.

Torben is in my face now, shielding me from everything. I just want to find Callum.

I begin to shake uncontrollably as Torben wraps me up in a hug.

“Brother, I’m okay.”

“Who caught you?”

“He’s gone.”

“Thank God someone made those needles for you. They should be commended.”

I shake my head, willing tears away. Callum did it. He saved me.

“How did that man catch me?”

I don’t get an answer. What I do get is Uther and his men hovering around me, sweeping me away from the plaza into a waiting vehicle, my eyes scanning the crowd for the only person I need right now.

But I can’t find him.