“Should I put on a shirt?” Francis murmured, crooking his head. “Princess?”
“Yes! No. Yes—” I shook my head as the heat traveled up my cheeks. “I have a favor to ask.” I sat on his unmade bed, forcing some distance in between us.
Francis’ smirk deepened. “Ask away.” He crossed his arms against his bare chest—which certainly did not help my lack of attention.
“I need you to train me.” The words left my lips before I could regret them.
“Train you?” Francis’ brows rose as he slipped on a linen shirt. The lack of bare skin didn’t stop the bothersome feeling from slowly creeping deep in my stomach. I traced the line of his uncovered chest and the shadows of his hands as his fingers worked through the buttons. “Am I a replacement for Caleb?” He chuckled, forcing my gaze back to his.
“I need to learn how to fight.” I ignored his remark. “So I can protect myself at the palace.”
“If you give the rest of us the directions to the vault you won’t need to worry yourself with training.” Francis finished buttoningup his shirt. “But even if you decide to go... I will protect you there, you have nothing to worry about.”
“I am going, and I don’t want your protection.” I stood from the bed. “I don’t want to rely on others for my safety.” My arms crossed at my chest as I shrugged. “I can always ask Roxanne—” Even the idea of that sent a shiver down my spine, though perhaps things wouldn’t be disastrous: now that she appeared to dislike me less. Perhaps.
Francis’ bright laughter filled the room before a coy smile spread across his face. “You needn't manipulate me, Princess,” he mused. “I would love to train you, I am merely stating that you don’t need to come back to the palace.” He took a few steps forward, depriving me of a clear mind. Surely Francis training me wasn’t a great idea, especially considering how things had ended last time... I supposed it was a lost battle.
“So you have said.” I rolled my eyes, desperately avoiding his piercing gaze. “I will wait for you in the training hall once the sun sets.” I passed Francis, walking towards the door.
“And here I thought I would have the honor of spending the day with you,” Francis tsked, walking after me. His face was inches from mine as he stood before me; my mind went mad in an instant. Thankfully, before I had to come up with a reply to such a scandalous—and appealing—remark, he continued, “We will train first thing tomorrow evening.” He planted a small kiss on the top of my head, opening the door for me to exit.
“Until tomorrow.” I cleared out my throat, rushing out of his room. My stomach twisted in the most satisfying way, the flower caught aflame.
I rushed to my room, locking the door behind me. Stunned, I stared at the ceiling for a long while, unable to make sense of all the things that flew through my mind.
This is a mistake,I kept telling myself.
And yet, I felt no remorse.
Chapter 22. Reminder.
Apair of glowing, brown eyes met me in the mirror, the cold water slid down my cheeks, washing off the last bits of my wicked dream—the dream I wished hadn’t ended so fast.
My cheeks were the color of crimson, no matter my best attempts at stopping these ridiculous—and certainly inappropriate—thoughts of Francis. My skin heated at a mere touch, my stomach twisted in anticipation.
How was I to train with him if even thoughts were so distracting?
“You are ridiculous,” I told the mirror, though it didn’t stop the woman in front of me from looking all ecstatic.
The castle’s halls were silent: save for the whispering paintings on the walls and the humming statues, whose eyes followed my path to the training hall.
The smell of old lit cigars erupted in the air as I passed Francis’ study; my heart fluttered. Every breath left me with an ache in my lower stomach that I wasn’t capable of ruling.
“Enough, Cordelia,” I whispered, shaking my head in a weak attempt to clear my mind before yanking the door to the hall open.
