A tea table had been set in the middle of the royal garden. I had to pause the responsibilities of a princess today to fulfill the more complicated duty of being a sister.
Originally, I planned to give Killian the tart on his birthday — make it a gesture, symbolic, maybe even a little theatrical. But thanks to a certain someone's loose tongue, I was forced to change the plan entirely.
There wasn't enough time for me to bake a new one, so I reluctantly asked to reclaim the tart I'd promised Leila. She wasn't happy, but in the end, she surrendered to the tragic bond between two estranged siblings.
Only then would that brat even consider letting this go.
Under the roof of a small pavilion nestled in the vast garden, Killian and I sat facing each other. His arms were crossed, fingers drumming on his elbow with that familiar "I'm not mad, just disappointed" rhythm.
