“Then there’s me. I have my own fortune passed down to me from my father. It’s more than enough to live on, and have fun with, too. We can do all sorts of things together, Marnye, if you wanted.”
“We’re only eighteen,” I whisper, looking away. My heart betrays me, pounding too hard, beating too fast. I feel lightheaded, almost dizzy. “Who says I have to choose a life partner now?”
“Nobody. But we both know that when school ends, everyone will scatter, and that’ll be it. You might not have to choose a life partner, but you have to pick a thread to follow.”
“Is this an ultimatum?” I turn back to look at him and find his hazel eyes locked on my lips. Slowly, almost like a man coming out of a drugged dream, he lifts his gaze to mine.
“No. I don’t give ultimatums to friends. Milady, I don’t care what you do with the other boys. If you want me to stick around, I’m here. I’ll give you whatever you want. And if what you want is to tangle those threads around your fingers, and drag them to Bornstead, fine. I’m trying to tell you that I’m not the problem.”
“You’re saying you don’t care if I keep dating them, even in college?” My voice comes out a cracked whisper, half strangely hopeful but also broken and melancholic. Because college seems so far away, and I know that even if somehow, Windsor is offering me an impossible chance, I won’t get this from everybody.
Somehow, someway, I’ll have to choose.
Somehow, someway, I don’t think this is all going to end up wrapped in a perfect bow and hand delivered to my doorstep.
Sometimes happy endings taste bittersweet.
“That’s what I’m saying. I’ve had my share of girls. The only one I really liked before you, she did to me what I’d done to dozens of others. I know I have sins to repent for, and giving you what you want isn’t one of them. Let’s go to Bornstead together, and I’ll hold your hand, even if someone else is holding onto the other side.”
“You don’t really mean that,” I choke, trying to move around him, but he gently pushes me against the wall with his hands on my shoulders, dropping his mouth to mine.
Windsor York tastes like sweet dessert wine, his tongue edging my lips, tasting me like a fine chardonnay before he even really takes a sip. His tongue moves slowly against mine, like he’s trying to draw out all the flavor. Without meaning to, my hands pull the buttons on his shirt apart, palms pressing flat against the planes of his chest.
“Think about my offer,” he whispers, one hand sliding up my waist to cup my breast through my shirt. He kneads the flesh, encouraging my chest to lift into his hand, offering myself up to him. “But also, think about everyone’s motives. Nobody is fully selfless at any given time. Think about my offer, too, and why I made it.”
Wind releases me and pushes off the wall, stalking off outside. For a moment there, I have to remind myself how to breathe. When I follow after him, I see him moving between the garden house and a large barn, hopping a low fence, and moving over to a black horse.
He strokes its neck for a moment, and then grabs a handful of mane, mounting it and then quite literally riding off into the sunset.
He certainly is the epitome of charming prince, isn’t he?
Only … his horse is black, not white.
Maybe that’s a telltale sign right there?The next morning, Windsor and I have breakfast on the deck with Alex and Charlie before the princess excuses herself for a trip into town. Dad and I play a few rounds of chess before he gets tired again, and decides to settle down with a book.
I notice he opens to the back and reads the ending first.
Chills creep over me from head to toe as I watch him, smiling privately to himself before he flips back to the first page again.
“He’s reading the last page first, so he’ll know how it ends in case he …” I trail off, pausing behind Windsor as he leads me to the stables to pick a horse. We’re going riding today which makes me a little nervous. I think I rode a pony at someone’s birthday party once when I was seven, but that’s as far as my experience goes.
He looks back at me, and then turns fully around, dust settling around his riding boots.
“Sometimes, we take pleasure in whatever we can. Nobody knows how much time they have left, Marnye. Either of us could fall off one of these horses and die today. Who says Charlie has less time left than anyone else? Let the man read his ending, and don’t let yourself fall victim to pity. He doesn’t want that from you.”
