She shook her head, fingertips curling as though she was looking for some fabric to dig them in to. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded, “please don’t say that. You’re a knight, you fight, that’s what you do. I don’t, I can’t hate you for it.”
“If I’d died…you would’ve had to watch me fall…” He protested hoarsely and glanced down at her hands, knowing she wanted to hold him as much as he was holding her in a tight embrace. “Let’s go home, Summer. The celebrations can wait until this evening — I want to be with you and only you, right now.”
Summer hesitated, unsure of the right thing to do, but Cora’s voice came warm and faintly amused in her ear.
“Go on. Just be sure you’re back by the fourth bell.”
Summer turned slightly to look at her, noticing the faint wistfulness underlying her encouragement, and caught the prince’s glance over the princess’ shoulder. He made a shooing gesture with one hand. Turning back to Isaac, she stretched up on her toes and kissed him, hard. Around them, the crowd exploded into cheers.