off the typical style of dress of the male elves but Grey pulls it off naturally. He's paired a dark blue tunic that brings out his eyes brilliantly with soft charcoal pants and boots.
“Shall we?” he asks, offering me his arm.
“What exactly are we doing?”
“It's a surprise.”
His enthusiasm is a little contagious and I find myself anxious with excitement as he leads me out of the castle where we come face to face with the most beautiful horses I have ever seen. One is chestnut in color with a flaxen mane and tail and a white diamond between his eyes. The other horse is a solid, glossy black.
“Um, Grey?” I say to him as he leads me over to the horses. “I've never ridden before.”
He shouldn't have been surprised by my lack of equestrian training—after all he's been around my whole life. It's not like I could have snuck in some horse-back riding lessons behind his back.
“I know.” He gives me a crooked smile. “I just thought you might like to pick which one.”
“Oh,” I say lamely. “It doesn't matter. They're both beautiful.”
“Apple here is my favorite,” he says patting the chestnut colored one. “But don't tell Midnight.”
He nods over toward the black horse, Midnight, and she whinnies as though she's offended.
“Apple likes to run though so maybe we should start you off on Midnight.”
Grey mounts the black horse and then offers his hand to me, pulling me up behind him. He rides us through the forest surrounding the castle until we reach a small clearing.
He helps me dismount and as I look around, inhaling the sweetness only nature can create, I notice he's busy digging out a white and pale yellow checkered blanket and a wicker picnic basket.
The scene is all too familiar but completely different at the same time. The last picnic I went on was with Jacoby the night he asked me to go to prom with him. It's one of my most favorite memories of our time together because it was one of the few times in the last several months that I felt completely normal. I didn't feel like the Ljósálfar princess—that night I was simply a normal teenage girl being asked to go to prom with her boyfriend. The memory is bittersweet because I know that never again will I be just Mia Carrington. I will forever be Princess Mia of Álfheimr.
I catch him eying me curiously and for a second it's almost like I can read his mind. I know that he is wondering the cause of my sudden change in disposition.
I force myself to smile.
“A picnic? Greyson St. Claire's idea of a fun time is having a picnic in the middle of a forest? How quaint.” I tease him in an attempt to disguise my sudden sullenness.
“Actually, the picnic isn't the fun part. Just sort of the necessary part since I am sure you will be hungry soon and the surprise won't start until after dark.”
“Do I get a clue?”
He slowly shakes his head “no” teasingly, his mouth forming a tight line as he tries not to smile. He's enjoying my agony a little too much. He knows I hate surprises.
“That's just mean.”
“Trust me, it's worth the wait.” He continues readying our little picnic. “But I do have something for you that will hopefully earn forgiveness for torturing you with the promise of a surprise.”
“It's going to take a lot to get me to forgive you,” I laugh.
He pulls out
“Shall we?” he asks, offering me his arm.
“What exactly are we doing?”
“It's a surprise.”
His enthusiasm is a little contagious and I find myself anxious with excitement as he leads me out of the castle where we come face to face with the most beautiful horses I have ever seen. One is chestnut in color with a flaxen mane and tail and a white diamond between his eyes. The other horse is a solid, glossy black.
“Um, Grey?” I say to him as he leads me over to the horses. “I've never ridden before.”
He shouldn't have been surprised by my lack of equestrian training—after all he's been around my whole life. It's not like I could have snuck in some horse-back riding lessons behind his back.
“I know.” He gives me a crooked smile. “I just thought you might like to pick which one.”
“Oh,” I say lamely. “It doesn't matter. They're both beautiful.”
“Apple here is my favorite,” he says patting the chestnut colored one. “But don't tell Midnight.”
He nods over toward the black horse, Midnight, and she whinnies as though she's offended.
“Apple likes to run though so maybe we should start you off on Midnight.”
Grey mounts the black horse and then offers his hand to me, pulling me up behind him. He rides us through the forest surrounding the castle until we reach a small clearing.
He helps me dismount and as I look around, inhaling the sweetness only nature can create, I notice he's busy digging out a white and pale yellow checkered blanket and a wicker picnic basket.
The scene is all too familiar but completely different at the same time. The last picnic I went on was with Jacoby the night he asked me to go to prom with him. It's one of my most favorite memories of our time together because it was one of the few times in the last several months that I felt completely normal. I didn't feel like the Ljósálfar princess—that night I was simply a normal teenage girl being asked to go to prom with her boyfriend. The memory is bittersweet because I know that never again will I be just Mia Carrington. I will forever be Princess Mia of Álfheimr.
I catch him eying me curiously and for a second it's almost like I can read his mind. I know that he is wondering the cause of my sudden change in disposition.
I force myself to smile.
“A picnic? Greyson St. Claire's idea of a fun time is having a picnic in the middle of a forest? How quaint.” I tease him in an attempt to disguise my sudden sullenness.
“Actually, the picnic isn't the fun part. Just sort of the necessary part since I am sure you will be hungry soon and the surprise won't start until after dark.”
“Do I get a clue?”
He slowly shakes his head “no” teasingly, his mouth forming a tight line as he tries not to smile. He's enjoying my agony a little too much. He knows I hate surprises.
“That's just mean.”
“Trust me, it's worth the wait.” He continues readying our little picnic. “But I do have something for you that will hopefully earn forgiveness for torturing you with the promise of a surprise.”
“It's going to take a lot to get me to forgive you,” I laugh.
He pulls out
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