“Show me the store, I want to see.” She turns away from the carriage stubbornly.
I take her arm and show her to a jeweler renowned for his detail and artistry. The white of Desmarais is practically glowing under the sun. The glass windows of the shop glitter brilliantly as the sun strikes the jewels on display.
She blanches nervously at the decadent jewelry in the windows, but I push through the blue door and bring her into the elegant shop. The jeweler, a Fae man named Tinle, scurries from the back. His eyes widen as he takes me in. I extend a hand to him, grinning.
“Tinle, it’s been a long time,” I say warmly.
He bows before accepting my outstretched hand. “Your Grace, you do me a great honor.”
“Tinle, I’d like you to meet Verity Chastain. Verity, this is the world’s greatest jewel artist,” I say.
Tinle scoffs in forced humility but doesn’t deny my words. Verity dips her chin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” Tinle says, his keen eyes roving over her. “What can I do for you, Your Grace?”
“I’m looking for something unique, something one of a kind for Verity,” I say, following him to one of his display cases.
Tinle nods understandingly and disappears into the back. Verity tugs at my sleeve. “What are you doing?” She hisses under her breath.
“Buying you a gift.” I smile, knowing that she’ll only continue to protest.
“You don’t have to,” she says, a strain to her voice.
“I want to,” I say firmly. I meet her gaze and squeeze her hand. “Let me, it’s for my own benefit really. You would be doing me a favor.”
She purses her lips. “Alright, but nothing too expensive.”
“Verity,” I murmur, leaning closer to her. “I have a thousand years of unspent gold, a thousand years of savings. I could buy you the world.”
She gapes as Tinle returns, carrying a small silver box. He lays it gently on the display case and opens it with reverence. My lips part as I take in the delicate silver chain, studded with precious gems the color of my eyes.
Tinle grins, obviously pleased at my reaction. “It’s amber,” he says proudly.
“Fossilized tree sap?” Verity cocks a brow.
Tinle bristles. “Not just any amber. These particular stones were cut from amber found along the banks of the elusive Motabilem River.”
I loose a breath, impressed. “And how were they acquired?”
“By an agent of mine many centuries ago. I’ve kept them locked up tight until the right buyer came along,” Tinle explains.
“I don’t understand.” Verity glances between the two of us. “Why does this river make the amber more precious?”
“It’s a moving river,” I say.
“All rivers move,” she says pointedly.
I chuckle. “No, the river is never in the same place. One day it could be deep in the mountains beyond our border, and the next, it could be south, pouring into the Azul sea. It might spend weeks in the Nubes Forest and then two days in Meridianam.”
Her brows furrow. “How is it possible?”
I shrug. “No one knows.”
Tinle straightens his shoulders. “As you can see, the gems are very precious.”
“But how do we know they truly are from the Mo-,” she trails off and then purses her lips. “This river?”
“Verity,” I murmur. “Tinle is a man of great integrity.”
Tinle lifts the necklace and hands Verity a delicate magnifying glass. “Look at the gem.” He waits for her to peer at the stone. “Do you see the swirls of white in the gem? It’s subtle, difficult to see.”
“I see it,” Verity says.
“The Motabilem River is unique in that its waters carry a strange liquid, which we can only assume is related to the magical way the river appears wherever it likes.” Tinle drapes the necklace back in the box. “The presence of that material in the amber itself is an indication that it was taken from the banks of the Motabilem River.”
Verity bites her lip. “I see. I meant no offense.”
“It’s alright,” Tinle says. “You’re mortal. You couldn’t have known.”
Verity’s hands clench into fists at her sides, out of sight of Tinle. “Yes, I am mortal.”
I slip my fingers into her clenched fists, forcing her hand to relax. “It’s perfect, Tinle. I’ll take it.”
Tinle beams and rattles off a price. “Thank you, Your Grace.” He bows as I pass him a purse of gold coin.
With Verity’s hand in mine, we duck back out into the street, the silver box safely tucked in my pocket. I help her back into the carriage, noticing the way she visibly relaxes when she’s finally out of sight of the Fae in the streets. Night is falling; the roads will soon be filled with Fae celebrations that last long into the night. I smirk, picturing the wild parties that stretch into the early dawn. Verity isn’t quite ready for that yet. I eye her as she peers out the window. Maybe someday, but it will have to be a slow introduction.
As the carriage moves on, I settle next to Verity. I put the box in my lap and turn to her. “Turn around,” I murmur.
She does as I say, peeking over her shoulder. I brush her hair away gently, my fingers grazing over her lovely porcelain skin. She shudders as I trail my touch over the sharp bones in her neck. If things were different between us, I might press my lips to the back of her neck in a soft kiss. But I won’t press her; not when things are so delicate between us.
I drape the necklace over her head until it’s settled against her chest. I clasp it, securing it around her neck. Reluctantly, I drop my hands away from her neck and back into my lap. She settles back against the seat and stares down at the necklace on her breast. She runs her hands over the amber stones.
“The color is the same as your eyes,” she says softly.
“Is it?” I feign ignorance. “I hardly noticed.”
She looks at me suspiciously but then her lips quirk into a smile. “I had
