"It's for you."
A message from the castle? A carrier pigeon sent with a message from the castle for her? She was going to kill him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The soft knock at the door pulled Phillip from his thoughts. He straightened, his pulse steady but his mind alert. He bade the person on the other side of the door enter and then failed to hide his jolt of surprise at his guest.
Aurora stepped into the room, a picture of grace and poise. She smiled, a delicate curve of her lips that had always made him feel protective of her. Right now, all he could do was stare at her hands—her knuckles, to be precise. In all the years she'd lived in this castle, she had never once knocked on any door before coming in.
“You don’t look tired.” Her words were aimed more to herself. Her chin even dipped a bit as she regarded him. A small frown marred her brow. Then it smoothed itself out as she smiled brighter.
Phillip took an involuntary step back. “It’s been an eventful day. I was just about to turn in.”
Aurora stepped closer, placing her hands lightly on his chest. Phillip fought the instinct to pull away, forcing his muscles to stay relaxed. The touch was gentle, but it carried weight—a weight that felt heavy, tiresome.
Aurora tilted her head, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes that he now knew better than to trust. “I wanted to thank you, Phillip.”
"Thank me?"
“For welcoming me into your world. Into your castle after my father's unfortunate demise. For allowing me to sit beside you on your throne even before we've said our vows to one another.”
Her gaze flicked toward the bed—just a glance, but enough to set Phillip’s pulse on edge. She had never hinted at more between them than their public partnership. Tonight, the unspoken invitation hung in the air.
“I know someone else still lingers in your heart. But we’ll be married soon. Perhaps it’s time to bury her memory.”
Phillip's smile remained firmly in place—a smile honed through years of diplomacy. He took her hands, moving them off his chest. "Rory, you’ve always been a trusted partner and a valuable friend."
"Soon I'll be your wife."
As ever, Phillip neither agreed nor disagreed with the statement. "Soon is not tonight."
He kept his hands around hers just long enough to make the gesture feel like an acknowledgment rather than a rejection. Then he released her and took a deliberate step back.
"You’re right—it’s been a long day. Rest is what we both need."
"Goodnight, Rory," he said, moving to the door and holding it open for her. "I’ll see you in the morning."
Before he could close the door on this discussion, she turned back to him. Those rosy pink lips parted. Her gaze dipped to his mouth. Her head leaned in slightly, as though she had the thought to kiss him.
Phillip's lips parted to warn her off. There was no need. Aurora straightened and pressed her lips together in a smile. Shebobbed a curtsy—another action he had never once seen her do to another living soul—and started down the hall.
Phillip closed the door behind her with a quiet click, locking it with a smooth press of his thumb. He exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he leaned against the door. The scent of lavender still clung faintly to the air.
He knew then, with cold certainty, that Aurora’s mask was slipping. Whatever game she was playing, it was going to reach its conclusion soon. But first he had another dangerous maze to traverse.
Phillip barely had time to catch his breath after shutting the door when something sharp whizzed past his ear. He ducked just in time to avoid a thorn as thick as his thumb hurtling through the air. It missed his ear by a hair and embedded itself in the wood behind him with a muted thunk.
A puff of shimmering pollen clouded the air, floating toward him in a golden haze. He twisted to the side, batting the air away just as thick vines slithered through the open window, reaching for him like eager serpents. With a low curse, he lunged forward, grabbing the writhing form just outside the window.
His hands closed around Mal's shoulders, pulling her inside. She struggled against him, her magic alive and buzzing under her skin like a wild current.
“Hush,” Phillip whispered, struggling to keep his grip on her as she kicked and twisted. "Hush or she’ll hear you."
“Oh, I’ll make sure she hears us,” Mal hissed. “I’m going to make you scream.”
Phillip’s grin was wide and unapologetic. His lips twisted when Mal grabbed his cock. The heat of her palm was welcome. The malice curling her fingers was not.
"That putrid princess is going to hear you scream my name."
