The Summer King Bundle 3 Stories - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,140

handed over the comb.

He took it so quickly that I didn’t even see him move. “I’m going to move behind you, but I’m going to hold you up so it doesn’t jar your ribs.”

I nodded, and then Caden did just as he said, somehow rearranging me and the pillows so that he was behind me, one long leg hanging off the bed, and I…I was sitting between his thighs, leaning onto one of the pillows, holding it close to my chest.

This was so inappropriate.

But I didn’t say anything as Caden began to separate my hair into three sections. He didn’t note the tremors that had picked back up in my body.

“My sister was the baby of the family,” he said, beginning to work at the knots in the center section. “She was born two hundred years after Fabian and I were.”

Goodness.

It was easy to forget how old Caden and his brother were.

“Scorcha was…she was the kindest and most beautiful soul,” he said, gently tugging at the rat’s nest that was my hair. “Far better than Fabian or I could’ve ever hoped to be, except when it came to getting the knots out of her hair. You see, she had long, thick hair, and was constantly running about after Fabian and me. It was a constant battle between our mother and her to get her to sit still long enough, but she always did it for me. No matter what.”

I hugged the pillow. “Sounds like she wanted your attention.”

“She did. She wanted both Fabian’s and my attention, but we’d just gone through puberty, and well, we were concerned with other things,” he said. “Funny how you think you’ll learn from the knowledge that time can be fleeting, even for our kind, and come to realize that as fickle as time is, it also makes you forget.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “What happened to her?”

He was quiet, and a part of me wished I hadn’t asked. “We do not suffer from many illnesses, but there are a few that are similar to cancer or…heart failure. Some of the older fae believe that these sicknesses are curses, while others believe there are genetic reasons. Either way, Scorcha came down with what was called The Long Sleep. It’s a…wasting disease. Appetite and stamina are lost, and eventually, one slips into a sleep they don’t wake from. She was only ten years old, very young, even by human standards.”

“That is so young. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Finished with the center section, Caden moved on to the right. “You asked how I got broken ribs. I was a Prince, but I was always a warrior first. Before the big war, there were skirmishes, and I often found myself embroiled in a tavern fight—or five.”

“That I can easily see.”

“What? The tavern fighting?”

My lips twitched. “Well, yeah, but also the warrior part. I didn’t think you just lay around all day and….” Something prodded at my memories, but I couldn’t reach it. My eyes had drifted shut. There was something incredibly relaxing about having your hair brushed.

“I could be lazy and indulgent, but I always did my duty,” he said after a few moments. “My parents used to think that was one of my admirable traits. However, I have come to realize that it’s a flaw.”

“How so?”

“Duty should never supersede what is right,” he said. “No matter the cost.”

Before, I would’ve argued that duty always came first. It was everything to those raised in the Order, but that was before learning what Ivy was, before meeting the Summer fae and learning that not all of them were evil creatures hellbent on destruction. That was before meeting and…and falling for Caden.

Now I knew that duty often dictated things that were not right. Duty was too black and white, with little to no gray area.

Caden fell quiet as he worked at my hair, moving on to the left side. Not only was this incredibly soothing, it was also…kind and so sweet. And if I believed him, believed what he’d said about why he was here, then why was he—?

I cut those thoughts off. There was no reason for me to go down that road. A knot lodged in my throat anyway.

His hand stilled. “What are you thinking, sunshine?”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice rasped.

“Why wouldn’t I?” The comb started moving again.

Why? I almost laughed, except nothing about this was funny, and considering that he was pledged to another, the nickname was cruel in a way.

“You shouldn’t be doing