“Impossible.” Cornelius waved her off. “I know nothing of your daughter, or your family.” And just the day before, Cornelius had made an arrangement with the king that would make marrying Tristan off quite difficult.
But the woman did not need to know that.
“You know that my daughter comes with a map to the fountain of youth. My daughter,” Ana’s eyes steeled over, “can provide your family with eternal life.”
He was about to dismiss the woman, but then he hesitated, rubbing his chin.
He did indeed want the map. Who did not want to live forever? But he would have to marry off Tristan to get the map.
He would have to offer up a son in marriage.
A son….
A plan began to form in Cornelius’s head.
Gabriel and his obstinate attitude could be controlled by marriage. If Gabriel were bound to Ana’s daughter, then he would no longer entertain himself with the filthy Fletcher girl.
Cornelius could not afford to have Gabriel marry into a family of witchcraft, nor could he allow Gabriel to fraternize with Raven as if it were no great disrespect to the family.
Ana offered a solution, as well as a valuable gift. Cornelius just needed to convince her that Gabriel would be better suited for her daughter in marriage.
Or maybe he wouldn’t convince her at all.
Maybe….
“You wish that my son be wed to your daughter?” Cornelius asked carefully. “Nothing more than that? Just that my son wed your daughter?”
“Yes,” Ana replied.
“Very well.” Cornelius nodded. “I accept your proposal. Bring your daughter and the map to court tomorrow and we shall announce the engagement.”
Ana bowed, “Thank you, my lord,” and turned to leave.
“And Ana?”
Cornelius waited until the woman had turned back around before saying, “Crossing me would end in your death.”
Ana’s eyes were sharp. “I would never do such a thing.”
Cornelius waved her away. “Good.”
As she left the room, Cornelius sat back and pondered the possibility of eternal life. He had lost his wife to the fountain’s water, but the peasant was right. The water held magic. The water, if endlessly available, could keep him young and strong forever.
Yes, this would be a fine arrangement.
30
Several uneventful weeks went by for Scarlet. January turned into February and the fair was right around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, except Kristy Stevens would not shut up about finding a date.
To the fair.
Because that was a thing, apparently.
“Aaron gave me a ride in his new car the other night.” Kristy pulled a strand of her long, blond hair over her shoulder and started twisting it between her fingers as she sat beside Scarlet in class. “It was pretty awesome.”
They were supposed to be mixing beakers and stirring solvents or something, but Kristy wasn’t much help and Scarlet couldn’t care less about chemistry.
They were an awful team.
“That sounds…awesome,” Scarlet said.
What she meant to say was, “I don’t care.”
Kristy sighed dramatically. “I haven’t decided who I want to go to the fair with yet.”
Scarlet watched her lab partner’s eyes slide around the room, lingering on a few different boys—all of whom smiled back at her.
Scarlet examined Kristy. People at school always got Heather and Kristy mixed up, and Scarlet had never understood why.
Sure, they both had blond hair and brown eyes. And they both tended to be in chipper moods at all times.
But Kristy was nothing like Heather.
Heather was real.
Kristy was fake.
“I think Aaron will probably ask me if I drop enough hints.” Kristy looked at the blond boy sitting at the table next to them and gave a flirty smile.
Scarlet looked at Kristy’s low-cut shirt. “I’m sure you’ve already dropped plenty of hints.”
Kristy’s eyes darted to Scarlet and sharpened. Her voice dripped with artificial honey. “I sure hope you and Gabriel last until the fair. You’re such a cute couple. I’d hate to see you guys fizzle out.”
Scarlet lifted a defensive brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kristy shrugged and looked at her chemistry book. “It just seems like you and Gabriel aren’t really…hot anymore. You used to touch and kiss and stuff. But now the two of you just…talk.”
She said talk like it was a bad word.
“We’re hot,” Scarlet insisted. “We’re super hot. We’re on fire.”
What was Scarlet saying? They were on fire?
Who was in charge of her words?
Kristy smiled sweetly and looked at Scarlet sympathetically. “I’m sure you are, dear.”
Dear? Did she just call me dear?
Scarlet straightened her shoulders. “Just because we don’t make out in the hallway and grope each other in between class periods, doesn’t mean we’re not crazy for each other.”
Right?
Scarlet broke out in a cold sweat and added, “Because we are crazy for each other. We’re crazy hot. We’re…we’re—”
“On fire?” Kristy batted her lashes and Scarlet almost jabbed one of her pretty brown eyes with a stirring stick.
“Yes.” Scarlet looked back at her chemistry book and tried to compose her temper.
The only reason she and Gabriel hadn’t been…close lately was because every time Gabriel tried to kiss her, Scarlet pulled away, afraid that she’d feel Tristan again.
But she and Gabriel were on fire.
Or, at least, they were hot.
Or warm.
Or maybe they were on the back burner.
The cold sweat was back again and chemistry class couldn’t end fast enough.
Tristan heaved the remainder of the rotted wood, furniture and other miscellaneous wreckage out of the shack just as the sun was setting behind the thick February clouds. He dusted off his hands. He’d spent the last few weeks stripping the shack bare and fixing it up.
He’d stocked up on food, blankets and other necessities and it was beginning to look like a cabin.
There was a grown-over access road not far from the shack that he’d used to drive in a new bed and appliances, and he’d managed to repair all the holes in the roof.
The only thing left to fix now was the fireplace. He trudged back into the small house and breathed through the pain that throbbed in his core.
It was getting worse. Scarlet; their connection.
It was getting harder to do anything at all without have to take multiple breaks. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess Scarlet was a continent away, not just miles.