His eyes narrow as he takes a step backward. This push and pull of power between us now palpable and stretched taut.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says. He drops to his knees, one at a time. I glance down at him, his eyes meet mine, heavy with lust and I hate that this is what makes me feel that I have the upperhand. Hate that he’s only doing it to appease me, but I don’t stop him. I let myself believe for a few moments that Iamin charge here. His fingers fumble with my buttons, his breath hot against my pants?—
“Sir?” a guard asks.
I clear my throat and Galen stands, smoothing the front of his shirt as he does. “We are not done here,” he whispers. I glance around him and that’s when I realize the guard, my royal guard, isn’t addressingme.
“What is it?” Galen runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back to practiced perfection.
“All of the prisoners are gone, sir.” The guard’s voice shakes. I clench my fists at my sides, venom pooling in my mouth. I was specific in my terms to not tell a soul and yet here is my own guard, betraying my orders. “I…I was told to tell you at once.”
“What did you say?” Galen steps toward the man, leaving me breathless behind him.
The guard swallows. His eyes trail past Galen for a moment, landing on me, so I right my shirt, smoothing the wrinkles.
“We found a dead guard in the Dyrsjel’s cell. Bloodied his eye real good?—”
“Bloodied his eye how?” Galen glances at me briefly over his shoulder, but I don’t flinch. I keep my eyes on the guard, though my stomach drops and the drinks from earlier threaten to spill out of me.
“We found this.” The guard steps forward and hands Galen a soiled knife. Galen’s shoulders tense, his knuckles whitening at his sides as he presses his hands into tight balls. My eyes track to the knife and a tiny spark of amusement rises in my chest.
I don’t know why I gave Elora the kitchen knife. I suppose I wanted to see what she’d do. If she was brave enough to fight for herself.
To see if she was braver than me.
“I want every available man on this,” Galen says. I don’t have time to react that he is giving the same orders I have already issued before he continues. “If they are not found in the next hour, there will be consequences.”
The guard doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t seek my approval before he gives Galen a quick nod and rushes down the hall.
A few moments of silence pass between Galen and I. His back remains turned, the blade still in his grasp. I open my mouth only to snap it closed. What is it that I can even say? I caused this mess and he knows it. But as he turns to me, his gaze narrowed, I realize that while I can admit what I did was reckless, I’m not sorry for it.
“This was your doing,” Galen says as he steps toward me. He runs the blade down my arm before pressing the hilt of it into my palm. “Why?”
“What makes you so sure I knew about this?”
Galen grins at my response. He leans closer until his forehead touches mine, and I suck in a sharp breath. Anger and violence, I expected. I’ve had many years of Galen’s outbursts to know what sets him off. But the gentleness of his touch puts me on edge.
“You can’t hide from me, Roman.”
Before retiring to my chambers,I sit half drunk in the study, replaying Galen’s words over and over again.
You can’t hide from me, Roman.
I rub at my temples, nursing the soreness beginning to form there. Why is it that I am merely a puppet in my life? Controlled by the men around me, whether I’ve chosen them or not.
“You wanted to see me?”
Straightening myself, I run a hand through my hair, though it’s no use with the curls.
Cade joins me in the study. He’s dressed in his usual guard attire aside from the heavy chain that’s normally across his chest. Dark pants and a thick, navy top. He tugs at his leather vest as he takes the chair across from me.
“Tea?” I ask, snapping my fingers for the handmaid I’m sure is lurking just outside the door. A moment later, just as I could’ve guessed, she’s at my side, pouring my cup for me. I glance at Cade who holds a hand up.
“No thank you,” he says.
“I promise not to keep you from the ball for too long.”
“It’s no worry, Your Majesty.” He crosses his legs, then uncrosses them. “I’m not one for dancing.”
