"Shall we?" he suggested, gesturing with a wave of his hand to the white-painted iron dining table and chairs that’d been set out for them. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled back at him with a simple nod. Relieved that their encounter so far had felt so easy, Asher led her to the dining table and pulled out the nearest chair for her to sit.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, and from the way her wings were fluttering, Asher could tell she was still just as nervous as he felt. He could feel the claws of anxiety ripping at his insides as he prayed their evening would go right just this once.
"You're welcome," he said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before taking his seat opposite her. Paxton remained in the shadows beside the wall with his head down, appearing to give them as much privacy as possible while being close enough should they need anything. Although Asher would’ve liked to be entirely alone with his guest, he was pleased for the advisor's presence. At least this way he would be forced to remain gentlemanly even when he wanted to throw himself at her.
Paxton came forward only when Asher gestured him to, allowing the advisor to pour honeysuckle wine into their cups and remove the covers that had been protecting the delicious smelling food beneath. Rayne's eyes opened wide in astonishment when she saw it all, but Asher couldn’t see what could possibly be wrong.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, no!" Rayne responded with a shake of her head, and she quickly seemed to get her expression under control. "It’s just that I’ve never seen so much food."
"They didn't have feasts in your home village?" Asher asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, I’m certain the noblemen who run the village did," Rayne responded, her voice hardening, "though many of the villagers went hungry anyway."
Asher's stomach clenched as he suddenly reminded himself she was not accustomed to the same luxuries he’d been surrounded by his entire life. Even now, as the youngest son of a king, being forced to rule a kingdom with the largest fae prison and only prisoners’ families as subjects, other than the noblemen who were really more prison wardens than anything, he had far more luxuries than most on the isle.
"I’m sorry if I’ve offended you," Asher sighed and lowered his eyes, unable to meet her gaze for a moment. "I shall have it sent away."
He raised a hand to gesture Paxton forward, but Rayne quickly stopped him. "No! You haven't offended me, though I would be grateful if you would send some of this food to the nearest town."
It was in that moment that Asher realized why he cared for her so. It wasn't just that she was beautiful or that fate had somehow gifted her to him. It was because she was selfless, always thinking of others before herself. It was no wonder Elia had taken an instant shine to her.
"Paxton, you heard the lady," Asher announced with a snap of his fingers, and the advisor hurried forward to take a couple of the platters away. "Be sure they make it safely to those who need it most."
He glared at his advisor sternly so he would know just what the penalty would be if his instructions were not followed to the letter.
"I'll ensure that none of the servants or guards get the wrong idea, my lord," Paxton assured him before he disappeared with a tray in each hand. Asher watched him go before turning back to Rayne, now all too aware of just how alone they were.
"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to what was left of the food. Rayne nodded, and they began to eat. Music began to play from the other side of the nearest hedge, as though Paxton had stopped off at the musicians before taking the trays to be delivered. Asher found himself wondering just how thick the hedge was and whether any of the musicians would be able to see them. But what did it matter? Asher had promised himself he would be a gentleman for the evening.
I want her to see that I enjoy her company, he reminded himself quickly, not just her appearance or her body.
Yet he was still having a hard time concentrating. Even while eating, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes upon. Still confused as to how someone so beautiful could be the daughter of a criminal, a murderer, he asked, "Tell me more about yourself."
Rayne paused to look at him. Her eyes sparkled, though Asher wasn't sure whether it was with fear or reluctance.
"What do you wish to know, Your Majesty?" she asked. The way she gazed at him made Asher feel as though he was being seen for the very first time. He suddenly felt as though nobody who’d come before her had ever looked at him the way she was looking at him right then.
"Please, if you insist upon being only Rayne, then I am only Asher," he insisted before taking a sip of wine to give himself a moment to think of what question was best to ask first. "Tell me more about your home."
It was impossible to miss the way Rayne's shoulders tensed at the question. Again, Asher cursed himself for making her feel uncomfortable. The thought that he might have offended her yet again made him feel nauseous.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" he began but she lifted her hand, palm up, to silence him and shook her head.
“Don’t apologize. I’m just not used to people asking such questions, “she admitted, staring down at the food on her plate as though it were her turn not to be able to look him in the eye. “Which home would you like to know about?”
Now Asher was intrigued. He found himself leaning forward as he asked, “How many have you had?”
“Well, the home I had before coming here and the home I was born to were two very different places," Rayne admitted, and Asher's stomach twisted. Of course, I'm such a fool!
"Which would you like to tell me about?" he asked gently, hoping she wouldn't think he was prying. He watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath. The way her eyelids fluttered told him she was seeing something beyond the darkness of closed lids.
"I don't really remember much about my home on the spring isle," she admitted, and when she opened her eyes again, there was sadness in their depths. "Just what my mother told me. We had a large farm, a few cattle and some other livestock."
"I remember now, your father was a farmer?" Asher commented and again Rayne stiffened.
"Yes, I’m sure you already know my history, being king of the prison isle and all," she said, sounding as though she were speaking past a lump in her throat. Her tone was almost accusing, and Asher was taken aback. Nobody had ever called his kingdom that to his face before. Yes, he knew many people called it that, but never to their king.