You know, Aunt Tasha makes jokes about how youʹd actually be a better queen than the others, except sometimes . . . I donʹt think sheʹs joking.

I’d mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago: “Isn’t Dimitri hot?” Adrian’s response hadn’t been entirely unexpected: “Well, yeah, according to most women, at least.

Her eyes flicked over the cards, looked at Dimitri, then looked back at the cards. Her expression was blank. "You will lose what you value most, so treasure it while you can." She pointed to the Wheel of Fortune card. "The wheel is turning, always turning.

Love is . . .” An old memory with Adrian came back to me, and some of the turbulent emotion I always carried within me these days welled up in my chest. It was stupid, feeling so lovesick when he’d been gone less than a day, but I couldn’t get him or the ways he described love out of my head. “. . . a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winter’s night. A star that guides you home.

I unfolded the note, and it took me a few seconds to decipher Adrian’s writing. If he did write me a dating proposal, I really hoped he would type it.

She stared at me with concern a few moments longer and then relaxed a little. "Okay. But if you need anything—" "I know, I know. Call on the Love Phone.

You’re presumptuous and arrogant and a whole lot of other things if you think I’ve changed my mind.” “You see, that’s just it.” There he was again, moving into my space. “I think you like the ‘other things.