Faith lifted her head, studying his face with those sharp brown eyes. “You speak about baking like it’s an art form.”
“Isn’t it?” Kovrak settled back on his heels, giving her space while maintaining their connection. “Innovation. Creativity. Theability to transform simple ingredients into something that brings joy. I admire that kind of vision.”
Something shifted in her expression—surprise, maybe even pleasure.
“Most people think it’s just mixing flour and sugar.”
“Most people are fools.” The conviction in his voice seemed to catch her off guard. “I’ve spent my entire life bound by rigid traditions and expectations. The idea of creating something new, something that’s never existed before...” He trailed off, then met her eyes. “I envy that freedom.”
Faith was quiet for a long moment, processing his words. When she spoke, her voice was softer but still wary.
“I’ve spent years being overlooked, dismissed, or minimized. Having someone see the worth in what I do...” She paused. “That means something.”
Kovrak felt a flicker of hope, careful not to let it show.
“I’m not asking you to save my throne, Faith. I’m saying I want to witness your talent this week. Would you stay so I could see it firsthand?”
She studied his face, searching for deception or manipulation. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her, because some of the tension left her shoulders.
“I did enjoy dinner with you last night,” she admitted, the words seeming to cost her. “I feel... something. A spark. But I don’t want to get swept off my feet into some fairy tale romance. I want to work this festival and show your people what I can do.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. There will be no pressure for romance,” he replied softly. “I’ll be a gentleman and treat you well regardless. But you owe me nothing, Faith. If at the end of this week you choose to walk away, I will honor that decision.”
He paused, letting the weight of his promise settle between them.
“The mating decision is not a requirement. It’s a possibility—if you choose it.”
The shift in the air was subtle but crucial. Faith’s shoulders relaxed another degree, and she nodded slowly.
“I’ll stay.”
Relief hit him like a tidal wave, sharp and overwhelming. Kovrak fought to keep his expression neutral, refusing to let her see how close he’d come to begging.
“I’ll give you time to prepare for the ceremony,” he said, rising to his feet with careful control. “Commander Thalen will escort you today so you don’t feel cornered by my presence.”
He moved toward the door before his carefully maintained restraint could crack any further.
“Kovrak.”
He paused at the threshold, not trusting himself to turn around.
“Thank you. For being honest. Finally.”
He nodded once and stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him with deliberate care. Only then did he allow himself to exhale, the sound shaky with relief and residual terror.
He’d almost lost everything because he’d tried to protect her from the truth instead of trusting her with it. The lesson carved itself into his consciousness with brutal clarity—Faith was stronger than his fears, braver than his caution. She deserved honesty, not manipulation wrapped in good intentions.
“Kovrak.”
Merral’s voice cut through his thoughts. His uncle approached with measured steps, his weathered face creased with concern.
“I heard there was a complication.”
Kovrak straightened, falling back into his role as prince and leader. “Faith discovered the full scope of expectations. She nearly left.”
Merral’s expression tightened. “But she stayed.”
“For now.”