Page 67 of Of Curses and Courtship

How can I survive those words? I bite back a comment that would land me in trouble—and not the sort of trouble I’d prefer to be in with him. He must know what he’s saying. Emyr isn’t naive.

“Of course, I won’t, Your Highness.” I hold my head higher. “If you must know, I’m trying to channel the air again.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. His white hair falls around his chin, grazing his pale skin. “I already told you, it will be easier for you to learn to channel water first. That’s your natural element.”

I cross my arms. “Then I’m meant to give up? Is that it?”

“No.” He holds his hands out. “We can try together. Come on. You may not be able to channel the magic yourself, but with my instruction, you can add to the energy.”

I take a tentative step closer. “What good is it if I can’t do it on my own?”

“Perhaps you can do it with Helena’s help.”

“She can only work with the light.”

“It’s always possible for her to learn. If your gifts continue growing, you can be the one to teach her.”

I extend my hands, but I don’t have the boldness required to take his in mine. He does it for me, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand. There it is again—that warmth. There’s nothing I can do to stifle it when he is touching me.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

I do as he asks. Already, from a simple touch, magic wells around us. It’s him channeling the element, and I know that now, but it feels like the wind breezes through me, just as it had the first time.

When I open my eyes, the air sweeps around the room, knocking over the book I have picked and several others. Pages ruffle about. It blows through my hair, pulling curls loose, pushing us closer. I can’t fight it. My chest presses against his, my nipples hardening painfully under the layers of fabric.

It’s just the cool wind. Nothing more.

His lips part, and his eyes darken. “Feel the magic, little halfling.”

Damn my desire. I can do nothing with it.

“All right!” I laugh, surprising myself with the sound. “That is quite enough.”

He drops my hands, and the air settles. “Was that the magic you were looking for?”

“It was acceptable. Now, I must learn to do something on my own.”

“Why is that?” He peers at me as if he’s searching for something—something I can’t gift him.

His fingertips brush against my skin, tucking strands of hair away from my face. I’m warm everywhere he touches, from the tips of my ears to the apple of my cheeks.

“Are you unaccustomed to working with others?” he asks. “No siblings of your own?”

“Um… no. I’m an only child.” I cast my gaze away. “My father took a wife just before he passed, and she had two children.”

My stepsisters became—perhaps not quite sisters, but they were friends. It’s easy to forget them now that I am here, but a longing builds in my chest, great enough that I worry it will break free, that Emyr will see something I wish to keep a secret.

Something I don’t wish to feel at all. I still miss my family, no matter how they betrayed me in the end.

“Forgive me,” he whispers.

My brows furrow. “For what? Her children were not all that horrible.”

“For your loss. Your father.”

“Ah…” I nod. “It’s been three years, but it still feels like he should be here. I can’t explain it better than that.”

“Mourning takes time. That feeling in your chest grows lighter over the years, but it always remains. It’s quite a problem for those with such long lifespans—like us.”