She shrugged, a smile tugging at her rosy lips. “My husband is always telling me to watch my mouth because it gets me into trouble.” She left his side to pick up the gold circlet crown resting on a cushion.
Leukos huffed. “A wise man. And what do you tell him?” He was careful not to touch her skin as he took the crown from her hands.
“Nothing. He’s too much of a bore,” she said bluntly, stepping back to appraise him. Her eyes lingered on the contours of his arms as he set the circlet atop his head, then traced his form with almost tangible hunger. She bit her lip, her gaze smouldering. “But my lover doesn’t mind at all,” she purred. “He loves every part of me, especially my mouth.”
Leukos froze, a sudden flush of heat surging through him. Though no blushing virgin, he was still caught in the woman’s magnetic pull. The intoxicating scent of myrtle hung thick in the air, clouding his thoughts. He almost reached for her, driven by an inexplicable urge to touch, but shook his head, clearing his mind.
This had to be one of Nik’s tasteless pranks—a courtesan sent to rile him before the ceremony. There was no way dutiful Charis had arranged something like this.
With a cryptic smile, the woman turned to the wooden table at the centre of the room and traced her fingers across its smooth surface. “Have you ever been in love, my prince?”
The question caught him off guard, and the sharp ache in his chest flared all over again. “No. Love is a luxury,” he said, though the words sounded empty, stripped of the certainty they once carried. For the first time, he questioned if he’d ever truly believed them.
His gaze drifted to the pitcher of wine. He’d need more than a few cups to numb the ache if he had any chance of getting through this day.
Her head shot up, mouth parting. “A luxury?!” she repeated, appalled. “On the contrary, love is a need. When you find the right person, your soul will sing to them.” She poured a cup of wine and offered it to him, her expression softening. “Their presence is like air to your lungs, the only water that will quench your thirst.”
At her words, an image of Alena flashed through his mind with startling clarity—the first time he’d noticed her after slavers had captured her. Bound in chains, yet she’d kept her head high, arguing with the guard carrying her unconscious sister to the back of a wagon. Leukos hadn’t heard a word she’d said, but the burning resolve on her face was unforgettable. Amid the sea of defeated souls, she’d shone like a lighthouse, casting light into the shadows that shrouded his heart.
He couldn’t even remember the last words he’d said to her. Something about meeting in the morning. But how many mornings had come and gone since then? How many sunrises had he watched from his balcony, straining for a glimpse of auburn hair in the bustling streets below?
Leukos gulped down the wine, its diluted taste a poor substitute for the numbness he craved. Today marked the last morning he would spend searching for her.
He had to let her go.
His parents’ vow demanded it, but the sacrifice twisted inside him like a knife.
“What if it’s too late?” His question hung in the air, raw with the pain he struggled to hide. “What if I’ve already met her and let her go?”
He didn’t know why he was opening up to a servant he’d just met—possibly even a courtesan. Nik and Theo had tried to talk to him about Alena, but he’d kept them at arm’s length, unwilling to expose the depth of his grief. Only once had he confessed to Theo about the relentless dreams that plagued him. Yet something about this woman—something inexplicable—made him want to voice his emotions.
“You cannot rush love,” she replied, her tone holding a wisdom far beyond her youthful appearance. “If she is the one, then you must trust Fate. You will meet again and have your chance to tell her how you feel.”
Leukos scoffed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m about to get married.”
He poured himself another generous cup of wine, careful not to spill a drop on his garments.
She smiled… but it was the kind of smile that seemed to know too much. Then, without a sound, she moved. She didn’t walk so much as glide, her skirts whispering over the stone floor without catching.
“Oh yes,” the woman purred, circling the table until she faced him. “I’ve noticed quite a few things… like how you’re far too handsome for any mere mortal prince.”
Definitely a courtesan. “Exactly how many princes have you met?”
“Too many to count.” She grabbed an apple from the basket and sank her pearly white teeth into it with a secretive smile.
When he raised a questioning brow at her boldness, she waved him off with a flick of her wrist. “Oh, please. As if you’ll be eating them anytime soon. Have you seen the banquet waiting for you in the Great Hall?”
She had a point. Still, the conversation had gone on long enough. Whatever effect she had on him—the strange heat—it needed to end.
Before he could speak, a knock interrupted them. Turning sharply, Leukos crossed the room and opened the door. On the other side stood Theo and Nik, both dressed in crisp tunics and gleaming armour. They took one look at him and froze, wide-eyed.
Theo glanced at the circlet atop Leukos’ head before breaking into a smile. “By the Sea, Leukos…”
“Well, aren’t you a sight?” Nik said with a broad grin, making a show of examining him head to toe. “Still, it’s a shame you can’t do anything about that stick up your?—”
“Which one of you sent her?” Leukos interrupted, arms crossed. “I’ll admit she helped get me dressed, but you both know how dangerous it is.”
Theo’s smile faltered into a frown. “Sent who?”
