77

Dove knows something is wrong when they returned home, and Jacques failed to visit her for a whole day. What she doesn’t know is whether her father her something to do with it – for how the healer spoke to him at camp – or if what she so foolishly said to him has made him avoid her.

Even now, as she lies in her own bed with servants catering to her needs, she silently berates herself for being so careless. She’s a princess, for crying out loud. She’s taught to think before she speak, to weigh her options before she acts, only to forget everything in Jacques’ presence. It’s a good thing her father was present to hear what she said. She can’t imagine what the consequences would be if he found out about her feelings for Jacques.

“How are you feeling, my love?” Elle asks the next day while visiting the princess in her chambers.

She’s been receiving visitors all morning, starting with her father and siblings, then Rubin, and finally, her mother. And all have asked her the same question, and every time she gives the same answer.

“I’m feeling better, the potions are helping a lot.” Dove offers her mother a compelling smile, hoping that she doesn’t see through the emptiness of it. “Gustav came in earlier to change my bandages. He says I’ll be back on my feet in time for my birthday ball.”

“Oh, that is excellent news.” Elle beams before scoffing. “Your father can thank his stars. I told him not to take you on that trip. But apparently, it’s a Southern tradition for women to kill an animal before they marry – how absurd!”

“I’m alright, Mom, really.” Dove reaches for her hands. “It was a freak accident, is all.”

“Which could’ve resulted into you losing your foot completely if your father hadn’t insisted Jacques and Gustav to come along – after I told him to.” Elle shakes her head, clearly irritated at their predicament. “If it wasn’t for Jacques, I don’t know what would’ve…”

It doesn’t often happen for Dove to see her mother break character. She’s been through more than enough to be the strongest person the princess knows, surviving her past with an abusive stepmother, having the courage to stay at the castle under pretences, and then escaping an entire coven of vampires while injured and pregnant. Her mother’s been through hell and back, and here she is, dabbing at her eyes to stop the tears from falling.

That’s how Dove knows there’s something deeper that is bothering her. “How are you feeling, Mom? Is something…wrong?”

Elle shakes her head, briefly closing her eyes to compose herself. “Not wrong, my love, just…off. Call it a mother’s instinct, but I can’t help but feel that you’re not entirely happy these days. Something has stolen my little Dove’s light, and I wonder if your father and I haven’t perhaps made a terrible mistake.”

She’s referring to the betrothal, the princess realizes. The very thing that will secure them an alliance with the South in case the Western rebellions ever expand. It would be an historical day when she marries Rubin, one Madame Caitlyn would teach Emry and all the others to come. And Sangaris would be safe against any supernatural threat with the humans on their side.

A lot was riding on her engagement to the prince, and Dove didn’t have the courage or strength to disappoint her parents by calling it off. As if it was her call to make since the start.

“Mom,” she begins, willing enough certainty to shine through her voice and smile to put Elle’s mind at ease, “I promise I am alright. I’m happy to finally be able to perform my duty, and you and father couldn’t have made a better match. Prince Rubin is, truly, perfect.”

But he’s not Jacques.

Dove remembers the promise she made to Rubin, that she’d give him a chance to win her heart before they get married. However, last night in the tent when he moved in to kiss her, something was holding her back. At the last moment, she turned away and he kissed her on the cheek, all because she couldn’t stop imagining him being a certain healer and wishing it was him kissing her instead.

It was unfair towards Rubin; she knows that all too well. He came here hoping to find true love despite the betrothal, and she’s toying with his hope.

This had to end. She had to get whatever fantasy she had over the healer, out of her system before the day ends. And hopefully, that is something her mother can help her with.

“Mom, when you leave, could you please do me one favour?” Dove pauses before asking, “Could you please tell Jacques that I need to speak to him?”

Jacques somehow managed to drown himself with enough work to hardly think about the princess for a day. He had fallen behind with his patients during the hunting trip, and it took at least six hours to make all his rounds, examine their health, and prescribe them new medications. Afterwards, came the reports and restocking his bag, which took another couple of blissful hours.

Gustav has kindly offered to take over his responsibility of cleaning and redressing Dove’s wounds, so the healers needn’t worry about getting ‘distracted’ again.

It was for the best, he admitted. She turns nineteen in two days, and the wedding is at the end of the week, which means he only needs to avoid her for another five days before she leaves for the South. He’s sure he can find plenty of work around the lab to keep him busy until then.

And his plan would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for Elle summoning him – and him specifically – to her daughter’s chambers. Gustav wasn’t present to intervene, and the healer was forced to obey the queen’s orders.

Jacques feels like a rabbit in a wolf’s den when he enters Dove’s chambers. Quite ironic, considering he’s the predator and she’s closer to being prey. With his bag clutched underneath his arm, hoping against all odds that this was a strict medical visit, he approaches her bed.

“Your mother summoned me here, your highness,” he says politely, remembering to be professional. “Is there a problem with your leg?”

“My leg’s fine,” Dove says without a hint of jest in her voice. “The problem is you avoiding me for two days and suddenly calling me ‘your highness’.”

Jacques halts at her side when her words send an arrow of regret piercing his heart. If only she knew he wasn’t willingly avoiding her, and that diving into a pool of melted silver would hurt less than missing her company.

“Do you need me to check your wound?” He purposely dances around the situation, which only seems to frustrate her more.

“Sit down.”

He sits down in a beat, claiming the chair Elle’s been occupying beside the bed only minutes ago. For a minute, she stares at him until he wants to shrink into himself underneath her gaze. As though it is a greater weakness than silver.

“That night in the tent,” Dove begins, “you said that I’m entertaining a certain fantasy in my head. At first, I was hurt that you would think that, even more speak it out loud. However, now I’m wondering if you weren’t right all along.”

Jacques doesn’t even think about interrupting her, and quietly listens as she continues to speak her mind.

“Perhaps the news of my betrothal scared me without realizing it. Maybe my head is searching for excuses to not get married because I’m afraid of what my future might hold. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I cannot allow this fear, this…fantasy to become harmful. I cannot toy with Rubin’s feelings any longer. It is time to put an end to this.”

Her words contract around his heart as a numb sensation webs through his body. Jacques can’t move, even less blink. He knows he should be relieved that she is the one who came to her senses – gods forbid he couldn’t. But it doesn’t hurt any less, it doesn’t lighten the weight he’s been carrying ever since that night in the tent, and it certainly doesn’t change how desperately he stills loves her.

He doesn’t have the words to speak, and only nods. She’s right. Gods, she’s always right. It’s time for this to end.

A moment passes before she draws an end to the silence. “Good,” Dove pauses to draw a deep and quivering breath, and then says the last thing he ever expected to hear, “Which is why I want you to kiss me.”