Moon's Flower (Kingdom, #6)

“Now you sound like Galeta,” Genevieve hissed the accusal.

“Heaven forbid,” Danika rolled her eyes theatrically. “Though I hate the cow with a thousand loathings,” she shuddered, “in a way, she was right. Calanthe thought only of herself, she never took into account how her deception hurt her friend. Because the fact was June was honor bound to tell, it wasn’t her fault.”

“But surely it made the betrayal more painful?” The primrose asked.

“I am sure that it did. If there’d been anyone who would betray Calanthe, I’m sure she never thought it would be her friend.”

“So what happened then?” The tiger lily prompted. “To Calanthe and to June and Jericho?”

This was the part of the tale Danika always dreaded the telling of. It was so pointless, so awful what Galeta had done that it never failed to bring tears to Danika’s eyes.

Voice wavering with clogged tears, Danika sniffed, taking a moment to gather herself.

“Calanthe lost everything…”

*

The next month was brutal. Harder than even the first. Worst of it was, Jericho was fairly certain Siria had no idea what he’d done.

Yes, he’d told Calanthe he wouldn’t come back for her, but that was before, when he thought they’d been caught. When the murder of crows had tailed his every move and made him know it was over.

But each day Siria came to him, and each day she was all smiles and more pleasant than she had been in ages.

In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten along so well. But tonight he was free, and the moment he could, he would return to Calanthe’s side. Somehow, someway, they would have to make it work.

To think last month that he could simply have her, and put her away. Never touch her again, look upon her face as the passion inched across it had been utter madness.

He was lost for his fairy and the temptation was simply too great.

Already he’d showered and shaved and dressed in whatever clothing he could grab. He wasn’t altogether certain it matched, black trousers and his red button shirt, it made him appear as if he meant to visit the Red Queen’s court, but no matter. Calanthe would understand he was in a rush to get to her and nothing else mattered at the moment.

Standing on the balustrade he counted down the seconds as the weakening rays of sunlight gave way to the gathering tendrils of darkness.

“Jericho,” Siria’s dulcet voice caressed his back.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He’d come this far, he couldn’t afford to show his panic or his need to get back to Calanthe as soon as possible. Expelling a sigh, he twirled on his heel. “Siria. It is good to see you.”

A delicate blade of a brow lifted. “Is it?” Humor laced her words.

Cocking his head because he’d not seen this teasing side of her for some time, his smile was hesitant. Just a ghostly stretch of lips. “It is tonight,” he admitted freely. For the past fortnight their relationship had grown civil, almost to the point where he could begin to move on and let go of the past.

Her words weren’t so sharp or bitter. There were no threats veiled behind sugary words.

Feeling a need to convey his sense of relief over it, he strode to her side and clapped a hand on her bare shoulder.

She was dressed as provocatively as any other night. Tonight her hair was her gown and it billowed in golden, shimmering waves down the length of her, the ends of it scraped her ankles.

But unlike other times when she used her allure to try and beguile him, tonight she seemed thoughtful, maybe even a little distracted as she kept staring over his shoulder.

“Siria, I tell you the truth. I am relieved that we can finally be friends. The strain of our relationship these past years has always weighed heavily on my conscious.”

Amber eyes flicked to his. “Mine as well, Jericho.” She sighed and a gentle breeze lifted the scent of sun soaked honey and tea off her body. Steely determination glinted back at him. “Come to have tea with me tonight. Please, Jericho.”

Every month she asked and every month he’d always said no. But if she was putting forth the effort, shouldn’t he at least do the same? For the next three hundred years she was the only day in and day out companion he would know. Was it possible that they could finally lay their feud to rest?

The more he thought on it, the more the idea held merit. If they could just talk, without all the nonsense of past hurts laying between them, then perhaps he could eventually come around to telling her of Calanthe.

Of course Calanthe had her own problems in their relationship, but one bridge at a time.

Twisting his lips, he glanced over his shoulder. For the possibility of a future with his fairy, he could spare an hour.

Lifting his hand, he held it out for her. “Come then, let us tea.”