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I shoved his shoulder even though I appreciated the lighthearted moment. “No. She said Esmerey read the Black Crow in her tea leaves.” I held my breath as I watched for his reaction. Was it really as bad as she’d made it out to be?
“Stuff and nonsense.” Bishop waved it away. “Total rubbish, that is.” He leaned closer as if divulging a secret. “With the right flick of a wrist, I can pull the Black Crow every time. Perfect for convincing a lass that we’re facing apocalyptic doom and one last snog with me might be the ticket to going out happy, yeah?”
Gwen had recently enlightened me on the word, and knowing he used their culture to clock in a make-out session was rather deplorable.
“You’re the worst.” I shook my head and crossed my arms, though at least I felt better knowing the reading could be false.
“Perhaps,” Bishop agreed. “But I’m good at it.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Now then, tell me why you’re over here, when he’s way over there.”
I turned toward Fitz and the others. Esmerey still hung off his arm, and Sadie was the shining star with three children clinging to her dress. Well, actually, my dress.
“He looks busy.” For only three words, I knew they carried a lot more than a declaration of Fitz’s current state.
He looks like he doesn’t need me.
He looks over me.
He looks like he’s falling in love with someone else.
Undeterred, Bishop moved closer. “He looks entertained, but certainly not busy, and definitely not anyone he wouldn’t drop for you.”
“I’m not sure.” I couldn’t explain how I knew, but I also didn’t want to carry my secret on my own anymore. “I saw him kiss Sadie.”
A part of me expected a gasp from my co-conspirator. I definitely didn’t expect him to scoff like it was nothing.
“So? If I was in his shoes, I’d be on my third round by now. Tasting every flavor in the candy shop, so to speak.”
I frowned at Bishop. “You’re despicable.”
“Predictable, perhaps. But I’m human. Don’t set out a buffet and assume I’ll stick to the steamed veg.” When I rolled my eyes and turned away, obviously unsatisfied, Bishop groaned. “All I’m saying is so what? He may have kissed her, but what you have is bigger, isn’t it?”
Fitz must have felt my stare because his head popped up and our eyes locked, despite the growing crowd that separated us. The weight between us remained, a barrier that forced us to hold back, but Bishop was right, more than what kept us apart, I felt what had joined us together for years.
“I sure hope it is, Bishop.” Because the thought of losing him wasn’t something I could face.
Fitz
I smiled until my cheeks began to hurt and then I kept smiling past that. I couldn’t let it show how nervous I felt in the midst of all these people. My people. What kind of king would I make if I were afraid to set foot in their presence? No, I’d resolved before the festival started that I wouldn’t let fear win.
A corpse before you’re ever a king.
The haunting words echoed through my mind, driving my heart rate up. I glanced at my lead bodyguard, but nothing about his stature hinted at trouble. It was in my head.
“A moment, please.” I felt like I’d been stuck in a cage of muscles and concealed weapons with the way my security team stuck to me. “At ease.”
Though I commanded it, they didn’t listen. Not at first. I missed Kabir. I’d loaned him out to cover Coco during her time in the country, but we had a certain understanding when it came to events like these. He never corralled me, but at no point was I ever in danger. At least I knew Michaela had the same level of protection.
“Pardon.” I glared at the guard nearest me and dared him to defy me. With a nod of his head, he stepped out of the way. Their protection was definitely appreciated, but I hated looking scared. I understood the risks of coming into the city square, but if the people were feeling the disconnect between the crown and their needs, then acting privileged would only deepen that divide.
“Your Highness!” A small boy in an oversized plastic crown sprinted toward me, brimming with excitement. “Your Highness! Please, wait!”
I turned to face him, fully intending to give him my attention, but moments before he was set to crash into my open arms, one of my guards stepped into his path. The boy’s eyes widened with terror as he tried to stop in time. His small body crashed against the guard’s legs, and I feared the reaction of not only the gathering crowd, but the guard who peeled him from his leg.
“No one is to approach the Crown Prince without—“
“Unhand him,” I issued the command before he could finish the sentence. “Now, Traxil. I won’t ask again.”
Traxil held the boy by his hood, toes barely touching the ground. “Your Highness, he posed a threat to—“
