The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(119)
Her mind made up, she returned to her room and changed into dark gardening pants and a dark shirt. Pulling on a pair of sensible boots, she doused the candles in her room, crept out onto the balcony, and began climbing along the silver trim that lined the castle like metallic frosting.
Her breath came in quick pants, her fingers ached from hanging on to slender nooks and crannies in the castle’s exterior, but there was a rush of exhilaration running through her that made her want to laugh out loud as she came to the corner of the royal wing and stretched her small arms toward the branches of the enormous oak tree that was outside Kellan’s suite.
It was just out of reach. Digging the fingers of one hand into a slim space between the trim and the castle’s wall, she arched her back and reached her other hand for the closest branch.
Her feet slipped, and she cried out as she started to fall.
A hand shot out of the tree, wrapped around her wrist, and hauled her into the cradle of the oak.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Kellan’s voice was full of hushed urgency as he pulled her close to his body, well within the safety of the tree’s branches. “What are you doing out here?”
She sank against the warmth of his chest and said, “I couldn’t spend another moment in the castle. Everywhere I turn, someone needs me to make a decision or try something on or learn something new or play nice with someone important or learn how to speak my mind without sounding like I’m disgusted with the other person. And there’s no privacy. None!”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
She laughed and snuggled closer. “I just want a few hours to be truly myself. I thought I’d sneak out and go swimming at the farmhouse.”
“Nighttime swimming without anyone to ensure the safety of the future queen? That sounds positively reckless.”
She grinned and turned her face toward his. “I can think of one person I wouldn’t mind having along for the adventure.”
He leaned closer. “And who would that be?”
She lifted her hands to frame his face and pulled him closer. “You. It’s always you.”
He pressed his lips to hers, his heart beating hard against her chest, his skin warm beneath her fingertips, and the rest of the world faded to nothing. When he pulled back, he whispered, “I love you, Blue de la Cour.”
She smiled as the warm, fizzy feeling she got when she was with him rushed through her veins. “I love you too.”
She kissed him once more, a wild claiming of his mouth that turned her blood to fire and her bones to sand, and then she leaned back and said, “Ready to break the rules and go have a little fun?”
He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Together, they climbed down the oak tree, crept off the castle grounds, and made their way down to the sea.