released from school.
Then she saw it. They'd been wandering about for over an hour before she spotted it. It hung in the corner of a booth in the chaotic center of the marketplace. It was a dark blue tunic with threads of gold shot through the sleeves and neck. It had a V-type collar and a soft texture like worn denim. And it was perfect for Daken.
She bought it when he wasn't looking. He was busy haggling over a dagger, so she slipped away, dropped all three of her coins into the vendor's hand, grabbed both the shirt and a couple plain tunics for herself, then ran back before Daken was any the wiser. She knew she should somehow hide the shirt. The surprise would work better if she gave it to him tomorrow morning, but she'd always had trouble waiting to give her gifts. He was right here with her, and she was so happy that she just threw it over his head, laughing as a sleeve flopped wildly over his right ear.
"Surprise!"
He fumbled his way out of the tunic. "What?"
"Hey, careful!" She pulled the shirt off of him before he ripped it, then smoothed out the folds before presenting it to him. "A tunic fit for a king." She held it up to his eyes. It wasn't a perfect match, she noted with chagrin. His eyes were a bit more vibrant, the gold flecks a little richer. But it was close enough.
He didn't take it.
"Hey. It's a gift." She leaned forward. "You're supposed to say thank-you."
He stared at the shirt. "You bought this?"
"No, I stole it. Of course, I bought it."
"You paid for it," he repeated, his mouth still struggling to form words.
"Yes. Probably way too much, but," she smiled up at him, "it was worth it to see your face." His expression was torn between surprise, pleasure, and horror. "Yes," she giggled, spinning away. "It was definitely worth it."
He grabbed her, turning her back to face him. "Why would you spend your coins on me? On this?"
"Because it's your money, silly. Who else should it be spent on?"
"But—"
"Criminy, Daken. You act like this is some big deal. It's just a shirt."
He shook his head, clearly searching for the right words. "This is not just a shirt."
"Well, of course, it is," she teased. "It's got fabric, front and back, two sleeves for your arms, and a collar. That's the big hole in the middle for your head. Boy," she shook her head with mock horror. "And you call me a fool."
"Little fool..."
She glanced up, her expression sobering at the sudden intensity in his eyes. "What? What's wrong?"
"This is a bridegroom's tunic. Are you proposing to me?"
"Proposing what?" Finally his words sunk in. "Proposing? As in marriage proposing?"
He reached out and lifted her chin. She felt the rough texture of his fingertips as well as the heat his smallest touch always aroused within her.
"I would be very pleased if you wished to marry me," he said, his voice low and sincere.
"Marry you?" Her voice came out as a squeak.
"You would be my queen." His lips quirked in a half smile. "A wealthy queen of a fertile land. Your heirs would be healers and as their mother, you would be revered. Your every wish fulfilled."
"Heirs? As in children? Babies?" Her voice cracked on the last word. Her thoughts spun and suddenly, her stomach felt much too small for her chest, especially given that her heart was beating so fast she thought it had climbed into her throat.
"We would have beautiful children, you and I," he continued. "They would have a laugh like their mother and have their father's physique."
"Physique?"
He tilted his head, trying to explain. "Body. Form. Strength."
She cleared her throat. "I know what it means," she said, slowly backing out of his arms as she struggled for rational thought. But it was hard when his gaze seemed to heat her entire body, mesmerizing her even as she tried to stop the dizzy buzzing in her head.
"Jane?"
"Daken." She took one last steadying breath before facing him. "Look, I didn't know that was a... that it was for a... you know. For marriage."
She watched his face