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“For someone without a mobile phone or a social media presence, you seem to know a lot about the king and his whims,” I tease.
He lifts one shoulder. “It’s tough to avoid getting absorbed into the royal watcher culture in the capitol city, but I do my best. So…about that marriage pact?”
I study his face for signs that this is a joke. Of any signs of deceit. But Jakob is not known for clowning around or for lying. The Jakob that I knew as a child is the same beautiful soul that stands before me now, wrapped up naked and covered in leaves and grit, asking me to marry him.
And honestly I can’t think of any proposal that could possibly be more romantic.
I open the door to the shower, drop the blanket, and step inside the warm spray. I look at Jakob over my shoulder and smile.
Jakob tenderly washes my body with my favorite loofah, and I wash his. When I reach for the shampoo, he takes it first and squirts a small dollop into the palm of his hand. “Turn around,” he urges.
With my back against his warm, strong chest, I close my eyes and let Jakob care for me. To his credit, he knows how to work the shampoo through my long hair, carefully rinsing and squeezing, then repeating to clean my scalp. His massaging fingers spark a sense of security and comfort as I lean against him, surrendering to the pleasing sensation. With as long as my hair is, it can be a chore to wash and condition it and brush it, but Jakob does it all lovingly as he tells me stories from his childhood—events that took place after my father took me away.
He tells me about the foster home that took him in for a while after his aunt couldn’t control him any longer, one that didn’t go along with any of the celebrations that most people in Gravenland take part in.
“What, not even the Favored Prince’s birthday?”
“No one’s birthday. Not Christmas, not the king and queen’s anniversary, not any of our four independence days. Nothing.”
I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m not crazy about the idea of the monarchy in general, especially of late, with all of the blustering of the king and the way he tries to dominate his family. I take the conditioner that Jakob has just used on my hair and squirt a dollop into my hand.
When I turn around, he lets me gently condition his beard with it.
“It’s not every country that has a different celebration day to commemorate the eviction of England, Netherlands, France, and Norway. The independence days are my favorite. Even better than Christmas.”
He chuckles. “Stasi and I were both removed from the same foster home for sneaking out to go to the plaza during the independence days. Then we ended up at the same group home.”
“Stasi,” I repeat. “Short for Anastasia?”
The name is familiar, though not uncommon. One of the supermarket’s frequent customers of late is a Stasi who’s been renting the royal vacation cottage for the last few weeks. But if it was that Stas…yeah, I’d be jealous. She’s stunning and curvy and seems to live in a bikini. I’ve seen glimpses of the man she’s sharing the cottage with, and he seems more than a little possessive of her.
Jakob nods. “She’s like a sister to me. In fact, she’s my housemate, but you have nothing to worry about.”
I pretend not to know what he’s talking about because I am totally, deeply, irrationally jealous. “I wasn’t worried. Of course you’re still friends with your foster sisters. You went through a lot together.”
He cups my face and kisses me gently, smearing conditioner all over my chin. “You’re sweet. I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone as my wife. When the time is right.”
And I bottle up the feeling—that nagging, silly feeling—that no one will think this simple girl is enough for the amazing Jakob.
We’re traveling to Salska today.
Before we meet with the clerk, we head to the shops to buy clothes for Jakob and a simple white dress for me.
Jakob picks out some autumn flowers and uses his artistic talents to fashion them into a pretty little bouquet at the last minute.
A public officiant marries us in the afternoon in an oatmeal-colored office full of witnesses who don’t know us and make no fuss.
It’s a perfect moment for two introverts in love, isn’t it?
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
The sterile setting doesn’t matter. What’s more romantic and full-circle than honoring a childhood wish? It’s Jakob. My Jakob. He makes me so happy, and I’m no longer so alone in this world.
After all, I have no doubts about him. Or about us. None at all. There is no one but Jakob for me. There never was.
When we return to Mirror Lake, I tell only Sabine the news, and she promises to keep it under wraps for now. And also Adam, for practical reasons. He assures me he can hold down the store while I take a month to honeymoon.
What I don’t tell either of them is that Jakob and I plan on spending our honeymoon at home at my cottage.
