“Everything, my queen. The curse of these walls, the iron will of my brothers, but especially the things you don’t know about yet.”

“Why don’t you tell me about them now?” I refrain from crossing my arms, determined to back up my next claim. “I’m a big girl, Landon. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“You handled the news of your paternity better than I thought you would. I’ll give you that.” He holds my gaze a beat too long, and the tenuous peace we found splinters as a trace of unease taints the air. “But some secrets are best revealed when the time is right.”

“That time isn’t now?”

“No, my queen. It’s not.”

7

Since Landon and Elise left the island, I’ve been staying busy in the studio, spending the mornings with a private instructor who teaches me about the inner workings of the industry. I never realized there were so many types of fabrics and trims, and before Landon gifted me the opportunity to follow my dream, I had no idea about the mechanics of production or creating a prototype.

Most evenings, I spend my time alone sketching, finding inspiration from magazines and celebrity photos. But my favorite part of the day is after lunch, when my team and I go over my rough sketches, and they give me feedback for improvement, because that’s when my designs really start to come together.

On the fifth day, the door to the studio swings open too hard, banging against the wall, and everyone in the room halts, their attention on the figure standing in the doorway.

“Leave us,” Sebastian commands, shooting pointed glances at the people surrounding me. Before I can admonish him on his rudeness, the members of my team scurry from the room.

“Was it necessary to speak to them like that?” I stand, hands on my hips, and glare at him.

“No, but it sure was entertaining watching them scatter.” With a smirk, he enters and ceremoniously locks the door.

“What do you want, Sebastian?”

Instead of answering, he meanders around the room, fingering the various fabrics. “Landon sure went all out.” He whistles as he takes it all in. “Look at this place.”

“I’m very thankful for the gift.”

“I know you are.” He studies me, his head-to-toe scrutiny impossible to ignore. “You’re radiant. I’ve never seen you in your element like this.”

That’s probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.

He stops in front of the prototype I’ve been working on for the last two days. “You made this?” He gestures to the plunging neckline of the halter gown—an azure shade of silk tulle I didn’t realize until now matches the brilliance of his eyes.

“I designed it. I’ve had a lot of help in the production department.”