Royal Fools

XVI. Spring's First Day

"Lori," he called after her.

She slid and stumbled, and his hand caught her by the arm before she fell.

"Don't walk too fast," he murmured. "The path is still slippery."

She cleared her throat. "I know. It's just the wine."

He bent to look at her, but she turned away, face heated. She swore he was smiling. Was he laughing at her? But instead of embarrassing her, he asked, "Maybe we can return tomorrow afternoon and have a proper picnic with Henry and Lucy."

"Sounds wonderful."

"We can gather more firewood while we're at it."

"Of course."

"Lori," he said, pulling her to a stop. With a finger under her chin, he forced her to look up at him. "What is the matter? You're not being yourself." When she just bit her lips, he frowned. A flicker of worry crossed his eyes. "Do you feel you were forced to—"

"No, of course not!" she scoffed, rolling her eyes, and forcing out a laugh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Was that your first time?"

She scowled because it was true, and she would rather die than admit it. "No," she lied through her teeth.

"Then what is it?" She didn't answer because she was too busy looking at him. His face was flushed from the wine, his eyes drooping just slightly with sleep. And the smile stayed on his face longer than the usual. "Did you not like it?"

"Don't be absurd," she said, turning away. "Don't you think it odd to talk about it after doing it?"

"I find it more odd that you keep calling a kiss 'it'."

"Let's stop talking. We're both a little foxed. And it's embarrassing—"

Suddenly, he was cupping her face, and his lips stole the rest of her words. It was not like the first time, but it still caused her heart to skip like a ball across a room. As he leaned back with a gentle smile on his face, they both swayed. He chuckled, catching her to steady them both. Then he said, "There's nothing to be ashamed about a kiss."

"Of course, there is." Her eyes rolled to the side. "Your guards are hiding behind the trees!" she hissed. Then loudly, she said, "But it's fine! It was the wine!"

His low laughter echoed around them. He seemed different. Completely stripped of his kingly mien, he was just like a man who had always been here. Was this the real him, or was it simply another Daniel Stanton with a goal?

"My guards know when to look away."

Taking her hand, he led her down the narrow path back to the manor. They passed the chicken coop, entered the kitchen, and, like children sneaking out at night, they tiptoed up the stairs.

"Good night," she murmured, turning toward her wing. He pulled her back, looking over their shoulders as he did so, and kissed the tip of her nose.

Without a word, he smiled and let go of her hand, his slightly foxed state a little too charming to leave behind.

She rushed down the corridor and, without looking back, slipped back into her bedchamber. Lucy was asleep in her bed as she stripped off her clothes. It was only when she was finally wrapped in warm clothing did everything sink through her wine-muddled brain.

And suddenly, she wanted to scream, but she couldn't, so she just jumped into bed and buried her face into her pillow. A sense of giddiness came over her, but from time to time, fear and alarm and suspicions. He seemed to have enjoyed kissing her. But what if it was all a ruse? A part of his plans? Then, just as her thoughts turned dark, she smiled and excitement swooped back like hundreds of wings fluttering inside her stomach.