Chapter 31
Chapter 31
SERAPHINA
The first hour is painfully awkward.
We start by clearing the worst of the weeds, working in tense silence. Every time our hands accidentally brush while reaching for the same plant, I jerk back like I’ve been burned. He notices, keeps more distance after that.
Conversation is stilted when we attempt it. I ask about which plants can survive Northern winters. He knows more than I expected, rattling off names and growing requirements without hesitation.
“My mother taught me,” he says quietly when I comment on his knowledge.
I look up from the weeds I’m pulling, surprised. It’s the first personal detail he’s ever volunteered about his family.
“She loved gardens.” His hands keep working, not meeting my eyes. “Said they were proof that beauty could survive even in the North. That harsh conditions didn’t mean everything had to be cold and dead.”
The vulnerability in his voice catches me off guard. “What happened to her?”
“Died when I was twelve. Some kind of illness the healers couldn’t cure.” His jaw tightens. “After that, my father had all her gardens destroyed. Said they made me weak, keeping them alive for her memory.”
“Kieran—”
“It’s fine.” He straightens, brushing dirt from his hands. “It was a long time ago.”
But I see it’s not fine. The loss still sits heavy in his eyes, even after all these years.
We work in silence for a while longer, but it’s different now. Less hostile, more… companionable.
As the morning wears on, we fall into a natural rhythm. I plan where different sections should go, and he executes the heavier work. He asks questions about my old garden—what I grew, how I arranged everything. I tell him about teaching Azriel to plant seeds, watching his face light up when the first sprouts appeared.
Kieran smiles at that. A real smile, not his usual cold smirk. “He mentioned that, too. Said you made it seem like magic.”
My chest aches at the thought of Kieran and Azriel talking about me when I’m not there. Building their relationship while I’m not watching. “He loved that garden. Sometimes I’d find him out there at dawn, checking on ‘his’ plants.”
“He talks about going back to visit it.” Kieran’s expression softens in a way I’ve never seen. “But he also said he wants to help you build this one. Make it even better.”
The image of the three of us working here together makes something crack in my chest. “He’d like that.”
“So would I.”
The quiet honesty in his voice steals my breath.
By midday, we’ve cleared most of the weeds and started marking out plots for different sections. I’m arranging stones along one border when he comes over to inspect my work.
“That’s not going to hold,” he says, tilting his head.
“Excuse me?” I look up at him. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Sure you do, Princess.” There’s a teasing note in his voice I’ve never heard before. “Just like you knew what you were doing when you tried to carry that rock twice your size.”
My face heats. “I loosened it. You just finished the job.”
“Right.” His lips twitch. “And I suppose you also ‘loosened’ the branch you got tangled in earlier?”
“That was the branch’s fault for being poorly placed.”
He laughs—actually laughs, and the sound does something dangerous to my heart.
I grab a handful of dirt, intending to threaten him with it playfully. But my grip is too loose, and some of it flicks off my fingers directly at his face.
Time stops.
Did I just throw dirt at the Ice King?
Kieran freezes, dirt speckling his cheek. His eyes go wide with surprise.
“I didn’t mean—” I start desperately.
Then he grins. Slow and dangerous. “You did not just throw dirt at me.”
“It was an accident!”
He grabs his own handful. “This won’t be.”
“Don’t you dare, Kieran!”
He throws it. Hits my shoulder perfectly.
I gasp, then laugh. Actually laugh. Grab more dirt and fling it back at him.
Suddenly, we’re in a full dirt fight, circling each other around the garden like children. He’s faster, but I’m more accurate. Dirt flies everywhere, coating us both.
He grabs the water bucket.
“Don’t you dare!”
He splashes me.
I shriek as cold water soaks through my tunic, then grab the other bucket. “You’re dead!”
I chase him around the garden, both of us laughing like we’ve lost our minds. The Ice King, running from me while covered in mud. It’s absurd and perfect, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this light.
I corner him near the tool shed and raise the bucket triumphantly.
“Seraphina,” he warns, but his eyes are dancing. “Think about what you’re doing.”
“I am thinking.” I tip the bucket. “I’m thinking revenge.”
Water cascades over him. He’s drenched instantly, his shirt plastered to his chest. I’m triumphant for exactly three seconds before he lunges for my bucket.
I try to run.
He catches my wrist, probably just meaning to stop me from throwing more water. But I spin instinctively, lose my balance on the wet ground.
We go down together.
He twists at the last second, taking the impact himself. We hit the muddy earth with a wet squelch, him on his back, me landing on top of him.
For a heartbeat, we just lie there, breathing hard. Then somehow I end up on my back with him braced above me, his hands pinning my wrists gently into the soft earth above my head.
We’re both covered in mud and soaked through. Our breath mists in the cold air between us. And neither of us is laughing anymore.
The playfulness drains away, replaced by something heavier.
I’m acutely aware of every point where his body touches mine. The weight of him, the strength in his arms, the way his wet shirt clings to the muscles I spent last night touching. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and I watch them drop to my mouth.
Memory of last night crashes through me with devastating force. His hands, his mouth, the way he made me come apart. But this is different. This is daylight, I’m in control, and I have a choice.
And gods help me, I want him to kiss me.
“Seraphina,” he breathes my name like a prayer.
His thumb strokes the inside of my wrist where my pulse hammers wildly. I should tell him to stop. Should push him away and remember all the reasons this is a terrible idea.
But I don’t.
He leans down slowly, giving me every opportunity to refuse. My eyes flutter closed. His breath ghosts across my lips, warm despite the cold air.
Just a heartbeat away from—
“Princess?”
We freeze.
Cassius stands at the gate, shock written across his face as he takes in the scene. Kieran pinning me in the mud, about to kiss me. The way I’m looking at Kieran, open and wanting in a way I’ve never looked at him.
I watch something crack behind his carefully controlled expression.
Kieran pulls back, rising to his feet with lethal grace. Helps me up with one hand while keeping his body slightly between Cassius and me. Protective.
“Lord Cassius.” Kieran’s voice is cold, controlled. “Is there something you need?”
But Cassius isn’t looking at him. His amber eyes are locked on me, and what I see there makes my stomach drop. Not the warm concern I’m used to. Something else. Something that disappeared the moment Kieran moved.
Did I imagine it?
“Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty.” Cassius’s smile is perfectly in place, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was looking for Princess Seraphina. I hadn’t seen her at lunch and wanted to ensure she was well.”
The concern sounds genuine, but something feels off. Wrong in a way I can’t articulate.
“I’m fine,” I manage, very aware of how I must look—covered in mud, hair wild, lips still parted from almost kissing Kieran.
Cassius’s eyes sweep over me, cataloging every detail. When they land on the mud streaking my face, something flickers in his expression. Gone before I can identify it.
“I see.” He takes a step back. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Princess. I’ll leave you to your… gardening.”
He turns and walks away before I can respond, his back rigid.
The moment he’s gone, the warmth drains from the air. Reality crashes back.
What the hell am I doing?
Cassius is my second-chance mate—the one the Moon Goddess sent to save me from this exact situation. And I just let Kieran pin me in the mud, almost kissed him, wanted to kiss him.
After everything Cassius has done for me. After he’s been the only one here to show me kindness.
Guilt crashes over me in waves. I’m the worst person alive.
“I should go.” I start toward the gate without meeting Kieran’s eyes. “Clean up before dinner.”
“Seraphina.”
“Thank you for the garden.” I don’t stop walking. “It was… nice. Working together.”
I flee before he can say anything else, before I do something even more stupid than I already have.
Behind me, I feel his eyes on my back. Feel the bond pulling tight between us, trying to drag me back.
I keep walking.
