The Shattered Way (Champions of the Crystal Book 7)

Chapter 1.1

An errant sunbeam found its way around the faded curtains and woke Sabrina, though Tristan continued to snore lightly in her ear, having curled up on her pillow with his tail dangling down to brush her shoulder. There was no sign of Ford, but then there usually wasn't; he didn't require as much sleep as she did and was nearly always up, dressed, and occupied with something by the time she woke.

Not that they got all that much opportunity to wake up together, she reflected with a sigh. Until they obtained the Council of Trême's permission to marry, they could not officially be engaged, and living together was out of the question while they had to keep in the Council's good graces. The open-door policy she'd always had for her apartments in Dansestari had proved to be a problem, and Ford's palace at Bathir was altogether too well staffed. They were both enjoying the relative privacy of this house, despite its deficiencies.

Sabrina sat up and reached for the cup of cocoa on the warming plate next to the bed, a sign of Ford's thoughtfulness even in his absence. As she drank, she evaluated how she was feeling today. This morning, she felt better than she had in days. Must be the endorphins, she thought with a smile.

That, and you always feel better in the mornings, Ford commented. Good morning, darling. I'll be up with breakfast in a minute.

Fine. I'm going to get my bath first.

I already filled the tub—it should be about the right temperature now.

You're a miracle worker.

Nice to know you still think so in daylight, he thought smugly.

Be good. I don't want you making me think embarrassing thoughts at the wedding!

I'll be good. We wouldn't want Ranja's memoirs to be too salacious, would we?

Definitely not!

——————————-

Sabrina enjoyed a brief bath and had a leisurely breakfast while Ford scrolled through the morning's news on the room's old-fashioned, erratic vid screen.

"I swear this thing is a century old," he grumbled.

"It's your house; why don't you update it?"

"I hate it here. It's the middle of nowhere, and there's no room for a workshop."

"I kind of like it. Sometimes you want to get away to the middle of nowhere. And I like that the ocean's so close. That breeze is lovely."

"You want it for a wedding present? I'll give it to you."

"Only if it comes with a renovation budget."

Ford gave up on the screen and grinned at her. "Marrying me for my money?"

"No amount of money is worth having to wear a tiara," she retorted. "But honestly, Ford, why keep this house if you hate it? It must cost something to keep up."

"Oh, sentimental reasons," he said.

"Really? Who left it to you?"

He hesitated. "It's part of the First Prince's inheritance. Not really mine to sell, regrettably. It'll go to Baldaran's first child someday. And I wish him or her joy of it!"

"So it belonged to Rayland," Sabrina said. "Did he ever live here?"

Ford grimaced. "When he was young. He and his wife lived here until they had their third or fourth child, I forget which. Then they needed a bigger place."

Sabrina looked around the room with new interest, trying to imagine her adoptive father, Ford's great-uncle, as a young husband and father. Ford had inherited Rayland's eyes, but she doubted they had ever been similar in any other respect. She wondered what Rayland would have thought of Ford—or of her, for that matter, now that she was changing.