hearth. She’d never seen him so focused.
Noticing Sable’s expectant gaze, she shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t followed through with removing her dress, but the looseness of it after Garin’s unceremonious tear meant it dipped lower than was comfortable. She crossed her arms across her chest while refocusing on their conversation.
“Sorry. Secret?”
“No one takes Brocéliande as a shortcut,” she said. There was an undercurrent to her words. “Only ruffians do, and somehow, you two don’t strike me as such. But I do remember the absolute thrill of sneaking off to be alone with someone…” Sadness touched her eyes as she trailed off.
She covered her mouth daintily and lowered her voice further, speaking against her fingertips. “First thing... Jeanare is my husband, and I love him fiercely,” she insisted, a knowing strength behind the brittle hand that suddenly gripped Lilac’s. “More than life itself. But I learned to love him. There was another gentleman, a couple years before I was introduced to Jeanare. I was just a girl, then. In our foolish youth, we’d sneak away into the edge of Brocéliande whenever we could, daring each other to go further into the dark. It was like a game. Breaking tradition was so liberating in such a stifled society. Wouldn’t you say?”
Lilac smiled nervously in response to Sable’s knowing grin, still unsure of where the conversation was going.
“You might have Jeanare fooled, but not I.” The woman chuckled heartily, motioning for Lilac to scoot over so she could take a seat at the edge of the cushion. “I know you two aren’t married, dear.”
Sable’s smile only grew kinder the further Lilac slumped into the chair. “Even then, it is evident what you feel for each other is no less; that’s what I would tell myself back in my day, anyway. The look upon your face when Garin called you his wife was different from the one you had when Jeanare first said it. There was a touch of surprise—then, longing. Almost as if, deep down, you could picture yourself one day wishing his words to be true.”
Sable clasped her fingers together, and Lilac could’ve sworn there was a shimmer to her large eyes at the long, lost memory. She cleared her throat, as if abruptly remembering her place. “Ah, the radiant glow of perpetual summer love,” she added, touching a fingertip playfully against Lilac’s prickling cheek.
The princess opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She never knew her grandparents, but this was what she’d always imagined it being like. “Sable… I apologize if we were at any point dishonest. I was a bit shaken from the attack and did not think to correct him. I also think Garin did not want to seem disrespectful, seeking shelter at this time of night. An unwed couple such as we.” The lies surrounding her identity came so naturally now.
As much as she wanted to move on from the subject, there was something that begged to be asked, lingering at the back of her throat. “What happened to the other one? Your…” she searched for the word with difficulty.
“My friend, by title,” Sable said fondly. “But we were more than that. He was a Florence merchant’s son, conceived out of wedlock with an embroiderer who couldn’t afford a child. Plus, he was foreigner. My parents simply would not have it. But the feeling was unlike anything else.” Her eyelids closed slowly, as if to shield herself from the memories. “Every sunrise, a small part of me wonders what would’ve been, had I disregarded my parents. Had I not let him go.”
“Why the sunrise?”
“Well, my nighttime thoughts are rightfully reserved for the man I married, I suppose. That’s how it should be now, i’nnt it?” She winked. “I do apologize for sharing all of that. Perhaps it was too much,” she said, watching the princess guardedly now. “It’s your eyes, I suppose. They’re beautiful, dear, and hold such warmth… Anyway, as I was saying, if that man’s the one, you’ll know. Others will always believe they know what’s best for you, but we spend life trying to please others. Sometimes, you have to choose to do right by yourself.”
In the silence that followed, all Lilac could think about was Sinclair. She wondered if the old woman would give the same advice, had she known Lilac’s true identity. She hadn’t forgotten entirely, but the adventure with Garin and their run in with the Fae had served as decent distraction, to the fact that her troubles weren’t going to