Free Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) by Starla Huchton, S. A. Huchton Page A

decide what she deserves. If it’s you she wants, what else matters?”
    “Pretense can only last so long. Eventually she’ll find out the truth.”
    “You worry too much.” He poured himself another glass of wine. “One day at a time, Your Highness.”
    “Please don’t call me that.”
    “I only do it because it annoys you.”
    “I know. Perhaps I’ll dismiss you for insubordination.”
    Grinning that damnable grin of his, Vennic lifted his cup in a toast. “And leave yourself without a voice of reason? Perish the thought.”
    Arden
    Unseasonably warm weather drew her into the gardens. A bench in the central gazebo provided the perfect spot to curl up with a book, and Arden soaked up the sunlight pouring in from the western side of the structure. She finally found a tome that sucked her in immediately, filling her mind with thoughts of blades and armor instead of the unyielding worries caused by an absent fiancé. After her conversation with Vennic, she sought out anything that might give her more to talk about with the prince, but it took her a full day to locate something that tied into her own interests.
    She was deep into a passage on various methods of tempering steel when a shadow darkened the pages. Startled, she looked up into the face of the one person she never imagined to see.
    “Oh, Your Highness.” She dropped her book as she got to her feet. “I wasn’t expecting—”
    He bent and retrieved the volume, dusting off the cover before returning it. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Lady Arden. I apologize.”
    “No need,” she said. “I simply hadn’t thought to see you with so much going on right now. How are you today?”
    Motioning for her to sit, he took a seat beside her as she begged her heart to slow its rapid flutter. “I needed some air, but otherwise well enough. Yourself? Not terribly bored, I hope?”
    She tapped the book and smiled. “I found something to occupy me, though I think it would probably put everyone but a blacksmith to sleep.”
    “Forged in Fire?” he said, reading the title.
    “It details various methods for crafting bladed weaponry, shields, and other types of armor. I’m making comparisons to the smithing methods I’ve worked out and pondering what I might change about them.” She lifted a hand to her mouth and cleared her throat, wondering how terrifically tedious she sounded. “Sorry. Elena’s grown rather tired of listening to me go on about this, and it isn’t as though my mother’s particularly fond of the subject. To be honest, I’ve considered wandering down to the smithy for the sole purpose of having another person around who doesn’t look at me like I’m speaking ancient Danaerian elvish when the term ‘smelting’ comes out of my mouth.”
    “My lady speaks ancient Danaerian as well?”
    When he grinned, she couldn’t contain her laugh. “No one speaks it, that’s rather the point I was making.”
    “I used to craft my own blades years ago, you know.”
    It was a fierce battle, but she mostly succeeded in not looking stunned that he made a comment about himself. “Did you? What sort?”
    Crossing his arms, he looked up at the ceiling of the gazebo, his memories dancing behind his eyes. “Crude daggers to start with. When I could get my hands on the materials, anyway. I traded services with a blacksmith in Darkrock, over on the western coast. He taught me the basics, I tracked down his non-paying customers and convinced them to settle their debts. Perhaps not the most civil of partnerships, but it was a start.”
    Her precarious position in the moment felt a lot like the time she got it in her head to tame some of the rabbits at Aerenhall. If she moved on them too fast, they skittered away as quick as a flash. She needed to tread carefully to keep the discussion with Prince Darius going. “We all do what we need to for survival. I certainly wouldn’t judge you for doing as much in the past, if that concerns you. It’s rather