The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(32)
She blinked at the midmorning sunlight and yawned.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He extended a hand to rub her shoulders the way he did for Nessa when she was too tense to sleep, but then let it drop. She wasn’t Nessa, and despite the fact that he’d known Blue since his earliest memories, he had no idea how to comfort her.
Something bumped against his ankles, and he looked down to find Blue’s monstrosity of a cat winding through the prince’s legs to get to his mistress. She scooped the cat into her arms, and he flopped against her chest, his one good eye glaring balefully at Kellan.
“I don’t think your cat likes me.”
Blue scratched the cat’s head. “He’s an excellent judge of character.”
Kellan rolled his eyes. “Like you, I suppose?”
She shot him a look, and for a moment, he saw the old Blue—feisty, honest, and unafraid to tell the most powerful boy in the kingdom exactly what she thought—but then she yawned again, and her shoulders sagged.
“I don’t want to argue with you,” she said wearily.
Something warm awoke in his chest, and he smiled. “I don’t want to argue with you either.”
There was a beat of silence between them, punctuated by the hum of bees in her garden and the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs inside the house, and then she smiled faintly.
“I have no idea what to say to you when I’m not mad at you or worried about you.”
He tilted his chin down to meet her eyes. “You worry about me?”
She gave him the look that usually preceded an announcement about his general lack of common sense and said, “You climb high walls without safety harnesses, race barely broken stallions in illegal contests, get into street fights, and, to my knowledge, have yet to turn down a single, stupid dare from one of your equally foolish friends. I imagine everyone who cares about you worries plenty.”
He frowned. “Wait. You care about me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. Everyone I love most loves you. Nessa, Grand-mère, the queen, Papa . . .” Tears glinted in her eyes, and she looked away. “I don’t want anything to hurt them, which means I don’t want anything to hurt you.”
“Your Majesty, Lady Chauveau and her daughters are in the parlor, ready to receive you,” his guard said from the doorway.
Kellan nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off Blue. Quietly, he said, “I thought you hated me.”
“Like you hate me?” She raised her eyes to his, and he swallowed hard at the stark vulnerability in them.
That was one of the things he both respected and dreaded with Blue. You always knew exactly where you stood. There were no pretty words, no artful deceptions, no games. She never bothered to hide the truth.
Choosing his words with care, he said, “I don’t hate you, Blue. I never have.”
“But you don’t like me.” She gave him a look that dared him to deny it.
“You don’t like me either.”
They held each other’s gazes for a long moment, and then she laughed—a pure sound, unfettered by the grief that filled her. He grinned, and the warmth in him spread.
“Maybe you’re not my favorite person in the kingdom, but I love Nessa, my mother, Grand-mère, and your papa too. And they all love you.” Kellan let his hand rest on her shoulder and felt an odd sense of peace when she didn’t flinch from his touch. “That means I don’t want anything to hurt you, either.”
Pepperell sniffed Kellan’s hand and then rubbed his face against the prince’s fingers. Kellan’s smile widened. “You were right, as usual. He’s an excellent judge of character.”
Blue smiled. “Maybe a better judge than me sometimes.” She scratched the cat under the chin and then said softly, “Thank you for what you did for me at Papa’s funeral.”
He squeezed her shoulder gently before letting go. “You’re welcome. I’m happy to talk to you about Pierre whenever you need it.”
She nodded. “You’d better get inside.”
He gave the cat one last pet and then smiled at Blue. “It was nice not arguing with you.”
She laughed a little, and he carried that sound with him as he walked into the farmhouse and found Dinah Chauveau seated on Blue’s little brown couch, her daughters on either side of her. Dinah wore her signature red silk, but her daughters were dressed in pale blue gowns with intricately embroidered birds taking flight across the skirts. The younger daughter had gloves on, but Jacinthe, the daughter closest to his own age, raised a bare hand for him to kiss.
It was a subtle signal that Dinah preferred for him to court Jacinthe, though she’d offered Halette as well in case he preferred her.
What he preferred was hardly at issue. The true question was what was best for the kingdom, and according to his mother, the Chauveau empire spanned four kingdoms with significant wealth and allies in each of them. All that would be a considerable asset to a future queen, and everyone in the room knew it.
“So lovely of you to visit us out here as we take a small country holiday,” Dinah said, her sharp eyes missing nothing as Kellan gave each girl a kiss on the back of her hand before taking his seat across from them. “I do hope Blue didn’t bore or offend you when she answered the door. She lacks a bit of polish.” Dinah cleared her throat delicately to convey her poor opinion of Blue’s manners.