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“Ha.” Her little sound of triumph surprised me. “Courtesy of yours truly. That was my dress and a little pageant magic.” She sat up again, face close to mine, making me almost cross-eyed as I watched her. “The whole thing with Sadie and her… forehead hand thing… what was that?”
Why did she have to remind me? Yet another reason to be stressed.
“It’s called Devotion of the Mind. It’s a pledge given through ritual, meaning the person giving it has fully and completely devoted their mind to the one receiving it.” I still wasn’t sure I deserved such a tribute. “There are seven types of tribute that can be given according to Nolcovian tradition.”
Her eyes narrowed, clearly curious. “Will you teach me?”
The idea made my mouth go dry, but I wasn’t sure why. As a child, we’d practice them. From the Pledge of the Sacred Heart to Imbuement of Mortal Courage, we tossed them around like candy. But, as with so much else related to Coco, doing something that sacred, that real, even to educate her, I wasn’t sure I could do it. Not without feeling something more than I should.
“Not tonight,” I told her, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed. “You’ll have enough to learn with the ball approaching anyway.”
“I won’t be here for the New Year’s Ball, remember?” Her teeth caught the edge of her lip and left me wondering what it meant. “You’re sending me home by then.”
“True, but I was talking about the Christmas Eve Ball, which isn’t far off at all.”
“You have a lot of those around here.” Her mouth tightened and shifted to the far right. “It’ll be weird spending Christmas without Mom.”
My heart clenched at the thought of what I was asking of her. “I can send for her, if that would make you happy.”
“No, she’ll be fine.” She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “She’s got this new boyfriend anyway, and it’s super awkward when my mom is all lovey-dovey on the couch and I’m sporting the single life.”
My hand felt hot against her back, not because we were too heated, but because I felt guilty for where we were. Rationally, I saw nothing wrong with it. She wasn’t technically on top of me, not really. Rather, she was wedged between me and the back of the couch, likely drifting slowly toward oblivion or whatever lurked in the crevices of the cushions. We were friends, nothing more.
Nothing romantic… about… it… I forced my gaze away from her lips and laid my head back. “Thank you for this. I needed to talk. Is there a Fitz signal or something that goes up?”
Her head pressed against my chest again. “Nerd.” She laughed lightly. “Besides, it would be Coco signal because they’d be calling for me, not you.”
“Nerd,” I teased back.
She tightened her grip around me, more like a hug that wasn’t willing to let go yet. “I should get back. I’m sure it’s late. And you have a big date tomorrow.”
“That I do…” I ran my fingers through her hair and she shivered, releasing a bout of curiosity inside me. Would that happen every time? I ached to know but dared not try again. Instead, I closed my eyes and soaked in the comfort of her presence. Nothing had been solved, but somehow with Coco there, I knew I could handle it.
My father.
The throne.
Even my date in the morning.
Michaela had my back.
My breathing evened out as our joined heat left my body relaxed and soft. She’d get up any minute, and I would head back to my bed.
Any minute we would…
My mind drifted away, lost in a world where I wasn’t going out with Blair, but instead, I took a fair maiden of the Aclusian Province, Lady Michaela, a Nolcovian princess.
Fitz
Light streamed through the open drapes, leaving me annoyed. I always drew them before I went to bed. Of all my spoiled tendencies, sleeping as late as possible was high on the list. My back ached like a steel spike had been jammed against it most of the night. I twisted in my bed, or at least I tried to. A weight held my body in place and I smiled, remembering when my cat used to sleep on me when I was a young boy. I would wake up to a face full of brown fur and a purring companion who was ready and waiting for breakfast. I squinted as the haze in my eyes cleared. I wasn’t in this room back then. I had a smaller space on the other side of the palace, closer to the playroom and nursery. I’d moved to my suite when I finally accepted my fate to rule as the future king of Nolcovia. My slow mind registered my sitting area, the cold fire, the mess of brown fur on my chest, just like when I was little.
Except.
My cat, Cuthbert, had been dead for five years.
Coco.
The previous night rushed back. And not a second too late. A knock sounded on my chamber door. “Your Highness, I have your breakfast. Are you decent?”
