Free Like the Dawn (Lark #3) by Erica Cope Page A

tight-lipped smile. “But I will tell you that your father is doing everything he can so that you never have to know of it.”
              “That doesn't sound promising,” I mutter. “But why? Why can't he just tell me?”
              “Trust me, you don't want to know.”
              There's a light knock on the door and then Freya, who has been standing silently against the wall watching as Isobel and I look over all the precious metals and gems, answers the door and a moment later Adele waltzes in.
              “Did I miss out on all of the fun?” she asks as she approaches the table where everything is laid out neatly. “Ooh, I love this.” She picks up the rose-gold sample. “Please tell me you are picking this.”
              “I think that's my favorite, too.”
              “Because it's gorgeous!” Adele gushes. Who would have thought this little book worm would be so giddy over something as materialistic as choosing a tiara.
              “Okay, Elsa, this is the metal I want.”
              “Very good, Your Highness. May I make a suggestion?”
              “Of course.”
              “The rose-gold would pair lovely with freshwater pearls.”
              Pearls always seemed like such boring gems to me, but at the same time I could appreciate the subtle elegance of their simplicity and luster.
              “I agree,” I told her. “But I'm still not quite sold on any of these designs.” I gesture to the many sketches in front of me. “These are all lovely, don't get me wrong, but none of them seem like me. Do you know what I mean?”
              “What is it that you don't care for, Your Highness?”
              I can tell I'm on the verge of offending her again so I choose my next words carefully. “These seem much grander than I would feel comfortable wearing.”
              She seems to pause in consideration before reaching for her sketchbook. She doesn't say anything as she draws out a new design quickly.               “What about something like this?” She holds out the sketch for me to look at and I have to admit, as far as tiaras go, I sort of love it.  This design features ivy and laurel leaves dotted with white freshwater pearls per her suggestion.
              “Yes! That's perfect,” I tell her, and her face lights up, pleased that I finally made my choice.
              “I shall get started right away, Your Highness.”
              Elsa scurries away leaving me in disbelief over the fact that I just chose my royal crown. Before she can close the door, Grey enters. He looks around nervously, like he was expecting to find me alone.
              “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”
              “You're not interrupting anything,” I tell him. “They were just helping me pick my crown.”
              “Did you choose one?” he asks conversationally.
              “I did. Elsa is a genius. The whole process wasn't nearly as painful as I was expecting,” I tease.
              “I told you not to worry about it. Elsa is very good.”
              “Well, like usual, you were right.”
              I'm acutely aware of Isobel's and Adele's eyes bouncing back and forth between Greyson and me like they are watching a tennis match. I didn't think anyone saw us leave together yesterday—not that it would matter if they did, we didn't do anything wrong. It's just that the rumor mill is a little overactive here in Álfheimr so who knows what is being said.
              It's ten shades of awkward standing here with the two of them silently observing my