Princess of Thorns
Page 33
“Don’t you dare,” he says, snatching me around the waist, pulling me into his arms and up his body until my feet dangle off the ground, muffling my protest with his kiss.
His kiss …
There is nothing better, nothing in the whole world.
“I could get drunk on your kisses,” I sigh against his lips.
“My kisses,” he says, arms tightening around me. “No one else’s.”
“Does this mean you’ll do it?” I ask, pulling back to look him in the eye.
“Deflower you?”
“Marry me,” I say, then add in a whisper. “Then the other. As soon as it can possibly be arranged.”
He shivers and I smile because I know he wants me as much as I want him and that we’ve finally found our way to each other and everything is going to be all right and then he says—
“No.”
—and my heart plummets.
“Why not?” I demand. “You love me, I know you do.”
“I do, more than I’ve ever loved anything,” he says, setting me on my feet. “A frightening amount considering I’ve only known you three weeks.”
“Then why?” I ask, positively sick to the bone. I can’t lose him, not when I was so certain … so sure. “I swear I will never lie to you again, even if we live to be a hundred. Even if it’s kinder to lie than to tell the truth.”
“Even if my breath stinks?” he asks, a teasing glint in his eye that makes me hopeful. “Or my gut starts to spill over my pants?”
“I’ll tell you,” I say. “I swear it. Immediately.”
“So if I ask you a question right now,” he says, humor leaving his voice. “You will be bound to tell the truth?”
“I swear it on my mother’s memory.”
“If it weren’t for my curse, would you still be considering getting married?”
I pause, but hurry to speak when I see distance creep into his eyes. “No, I wouldn’t. I won’t even be eighteen until spring. I would rather wait, but—”
“But nothing,” he says, turning to walk away. “I won’t force you—”
“No one is forcing me to do anything! Let me finish!” I grab his arm, digging my heels in until he stops. “But you don’t have a year or five, so we’ll do it now and I will never regret it because I know I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.”
“How can you know?” he asks, looking down at me with obvious skepticism. “You’re only seventeen. You’ve only kissed two people, and both of them—”
“Unlike some people, I don’t need to sample every beer in the tavern to know which one I prefer,” I say, propping my hands on my hips, not bothering to hide my frustration. He wanted me to be honest and at the moment he is honestly the most frustrating boy in Mataquin. “And we don’t have another week for me to spend praising your humbling good looks and your sweet heart and your bravery and on and on until your vanity is satisfied.”
“My vanity?” He rolls his eyes, but I see the tension easing from his expression and know I’d better get him to a priest before he finds something else to fret about.
“Yes, your vanity,” I say, tucking my hand into his arm and leading him toward the horses. “Now, you’re going to get on your horse and come back to the castle and we’re going to be married and tomorrow you’ll wake up and you won’t be a swan and I won’t be alone and neither of us will regret a damn thing.”
“Well, I suppose somebody has to keep you out of trouble,” he says, stopping to pull me into his arms. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask, lacing my fingers around his neck.
“For being so wretched stubborn. I was pretty sure it was the only thing I didn’t like about you.” He laughs beneath his breath. “But anyone else would have given up on me the fourth or fifth time I said no.”
“I guess you’ll have to add it to the list of things you love about me,” I whisper, standing on tiptoe to brush my lips against his, sighing as my entire being lights up. It’s like being filled with fairy magic but better, because this is magic we make together, Niklaas and I, something that was born and nurtured between us that can never be twisted or tainted or stolen away so long as we’re willing to fight for it.
And I will always fight for him. Always.
I feel shot through with light all the way back to the castle, all through the ceremony, and late into the night as Niklaas and I set about deflowering each other with as much tender enthusiasm as I had expected. And it is beautiful and right and by the time I drift to sleep in his arms, he is truly a part of me, a treasure I will hold close for the rest of my life, the greatest blessing, fairy or otherwise, I have ever known.
Niklaas
I open my eyes to sunlight flooding through unfamiliar yellow curtains, bathing the bed in gold, and for a moment I can’t remember where I am.
And then I hear her sigh and turn my head to find Aurora propped on one arm, watching me wake up, and it all comes rushing back—the breathless ride back to the castle, the wedding in the garden with the last of the autumn roses tucked into Aurora’s hair, going to bed with my best friend and learning I’ve been doing it all wrong, and needed to be deflowered, after all.
Last night was what love is supposed to feel like, terrifying and beautiful and so close you’re afraid you’ll lose a piece of yourself, but you don’t. You gain a piece of the person you love instead, a piece that makes you stronger and happier than you could have imagined possible.
Thank the gods she came after me; thank the gods I had the sense to let myself be saved or I never would have known.
“Good morning,” I mumble with a smile, reaching lazy fingers up to brush her cheek, needing to touch her. “How long have you been awake?”
“Since before the sun rose.” She leans into my touch. “I wanted to be sure …”
“Aw, you were worried about me, you tender-hearted little thing.” I grin as I roll over, pushing her back onto the pillows.
“Of course I was, you idiot,” she says, fighting a smile as she punches my bare arm, proving marriage isn’t going to make her go easy on me. “I have important business to attend to. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life cleaning up swan droppings.”
“Is that all?” I lean close enough for our noses to brush. “The only reason you’re glad I’m still human?”
“Well … I love you,” she whispers, her fingers threading through my hair, pulling me even closer. “I suppose there’s that.”
Before I can tell her I love her, too, she’s kissing me, and one kiss leads to two, which leads to a challenge to prove love is as much fun in the daylight, and I never have been the sort who can resist a challenge that involves a beautiful girl.
A beautiful girl who loves me, who makes me feel like I’ve finally come home.
“Let’s never sleep apart,” I whisper later as we lie curled together, drifting back to sleep in the pale morning light. “I want to wake up with you every day.”
Aurora sighs. “You really are sweet, you know.”
“It’s true, your highness. I am very sweet. You should always love me,” I say, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.
She laughs. “I think that can be arranged.”
Acknowledgments
Firstly, big thanks to the usual suspects—to Michelle Poploff and Rebecca Short for their editing prowess, to Ginger Clark for agenting finesse, and to the entire team at Delacorte Press for their excellence. Thanks to my family—to Mike for love above and beyond, and to Riley and Logan for laughs and love and the joy of being Mama to two such extraordinary people. Thanks to friend and critique partner, Julie Linker, for her keen eye and unflagging moral support, to Jennifer Redstreake-Geary for her delicious artwork, to the Debutantes of 2009 for community of the best kind, and to my mother and father for all those trips to the library. Lastly, thank you to my readers: your enthusiasm and
support means so much, I am honored to tell you stories.
About the Author
Stacey Jay is the author of seven previous books for young adults, including Of Beast and Beauty and the popular companion novels Juliet Immortal and Romeo Redeemed. She lives in a cabin by the river in Northern California with her winemaker husband, two sons, her beloved sewing machine, an electric ukulele, and all the stories still making their way from the ether to the page. Learn more at staceyjay.com.