Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(64)
Author: Kristen Ashley

I didn’t “burst forth from the Palace” because I wanted news of the hunt. I burst forth from the Palace because my hot guy husband rode up to the Palace on his beautiful steed looking… well, hot. And he’d been gone since the wee hours of the morning. And therefore I “burst forth from the Palace” because I was excited to see him.

I did not tell him this.

Instead I explained, “Because before, I thought it was a competition you could win. And now it’s just a bunch of guys going out and killing things. Competition is exciting. Killing things just to kill things…” I shook my head and finished, “not so much.”

Frey kept smiling as he bent even further then touched his mouth to mine before he ordered softly, “Step back, wee wife, so I can dismount.”

He let me go and I stepped back to see Father moving toward us so I turned to him and smiled.

“How did you do?” I asked.

“Not as well as The Drakkar, a hare and two deer,” he answered, arriving at me while speaking through a returned smile and bending in to kiss my cheek after he spoke. When he straightened, Frey was there and Atticus looked to my husband. “As usual, not anyone did as well as The Drakkar.”

I turned to look up at Frey. “So you did win.”

Frey looked down at me, eyes smiling. “If it pleases you, my princess, you can think of it this way.”

“Okay, I’ll think of it this way,” I decided, Frey’s mouth twitched and his eyes went to Atticus who was noting, “Plenty of fresh meat for the feast tonight.”

I made a gaggy face that Frey caught and I knew this because he burst out laughing. It also made him hook an arm around my shoulders and pull me into his side. And last, and best, it made him kiss the top of my hair after he quit laughing.

When he was done kissing me, I tipped my head back to see he was looking down at me.

When he caught my eyes, he stated, “You eat pork.”

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“Yes,” I confirmed, “but –”

Frey cut me off. “And beef.”

“Yes, husband, but –”

“And chicken, pheasant and lamb,” he went on.

“I don’t eat lamb,” I protested.

“Of course, I forgot,” Frey looked at Father and informed him. “Finnie doesn’t eat baby animals. It’s a rule.”

This was a rule and this rule Frey learned when our trays were brought up two nights ago so we could (again) eat in bed. Lamb was served and I pitched a mini-fit and, like I was a real princess, sent it back. Frey thought this was hilarious during my fit and after it when I explained my reasons for having said fit. I knew he thought this was hilarious because first, he laughed about it a lot at the time, second, he laughed about it a lot afterward whenever he remembered it and last, because he teased me about it frequently.

He could think it was hilariously funny and tease me about it. I still was not eating baby animals. No way.

I looked at Father, nodded and affirmed, “Totally.”

Father grinned at me and Frey looked back down at me. “You do know where all that comes from, Finnie.”

“Of course, I just don’t wish to discuss it or think of my husband and father riding off into the forest and hunting it down,” I returned then continued, “And, by the way, along with baby animals, I don’t eat hare nor do I eat venison.”

Actually, to be honest, I didn’t know exactly what a hare was except that it looked like a rabbit and there was no way in hell I was eating a rabbit.

I was an adventurer but you had to draw the line somewhere.

“You’ll eat it tonight,” Father put in, “for there’ll be a great deal of it and I promise you, daughter, you’ll think it’s delicious.”

“I think I’ll stick with the canapés,” I replied, Father’s head tilted to the side in confusion and Frey gave me a squeeze which meant they had no clue what I was talking about. “Hors d’oeuvres?” I tried, Father’s brows drew together and Frey started chuckling. “Finger food. Like vol-au-vents, miniature quiches, meatballs on toothpicks and such,” I explained.

Father closed in our huddle and he said quietly, “I think, my other world daughter, we do not have the same foods.”

By the way, Father and Mother, I now knew, had been told by Frey who I was and where I’d come from. This had made things better for it meant I could be me around both of them. I was obviously way better at being me and that seemed to be working, especially with Father.

Still, I went out with him every day (except today, since he was with the hunt) and practiced with my bow and arrow. And Frey was right; I was worrying too much about disappointing Atticus. Once I started to focus on what I was doing, and not on making Father happy (not to mention, doing that every day, my arms and shoulders were getting stronger and thus I gained more control), I got loads better. I wasn’t hitting bulls-eyes but the last two days I was out, not one arrow went astray and some of them actually hit the circles in the target.

Father was pleased with my progress and so was I.

“We’ll see,” I whispered back, “we probably just don’t call them the same things.”

“Probably not,” Father stated then looked beyond me and smiled so I turned to see Mother approaching, also wearing a slight (as was her way) smile.

“And how did you do, my husband?” she asked on arrival and after leaning up to give him a kiss and when she did, I sighed and pressed into Frey’s side as his arm tightened around me.

“A hare and two deer,” Atticus replied.

“It’s good to know, even if we didn’t have royal game hunters, my husband could provide meat for our table,” she returned softly, Father grinned proudly and then she turned to me and her face grew serious.

“I’m relatively certain, my Finnie, that you should be at your bath,” she stated bizarrely and I blinked at her.

“I should?” I asked.

“The Gales ball commences in four hours,” she informed me of something I knew.

Therefore I told her I knew.

“I know, but it won’t take four hours to get ready.”

Her lips tipped up before she returned, “Dear, trust me, your maidservants are upstairs fretting that you’ve spent the last half hour pacing the windows while looking out, anticipating your husband’s return and now you’re out here with your husband and didn’t, upon his safe return, retire to your rooms to begin preparations where your maids expected you to be at least an hour ago.”