Even if she had during those intoxicating moments with King Maximilian the day before. As Tansy gave the princess another reassuring squeeze, she vowed to herself that she would never be alone with the king again.
CHAPTER 4
Asudden, jarring knock at the door stole Tansy from the distraction of the book she had been halfheartedly attempting to read.The Tale of Love,with its lewd and shockingly descriptive chapters, had been entertaining her previously—a much-needed source of amusement despite the risk she took in reading it. But with her thoughts and heart heavy, she was no longer finding the wickedness within its pages nearly as intriguing as she previously had.
“Who comes?” she called in Boritanian, her heart leaping into her throat as she snapped the volume closed.
The bed behind her was empty, pillows neatly arranged into a princess-shaped lump once more. How she hated these hours of subterfuge, when the risk of discovery was brutally heightened by the princess’s glaring absence. They were one knock, one opened door, one curious guard away from all their efforts coming undone. And should that happen, from the inevitable punishment that would follow.
Certain death.
“King Maximilian to see Her Royal Highness, Princess Anastasia,” came the gruff response from the guard, cutting into her worried thoughts.
The pronouncement didn’t alleviate any of her concerns.
He had returned, and earlier than she had expected. Tansy had been hoping that Princess Anastasia would be here when he paid his call. Praying that she would.
“No,” she muttered to herself, rising from her chair and depositing the book upon a nearby table. “No, no, no.”
Why had Princess Anastasia yet to return? How long would she be gone? And would the king suspect something was amiss and that the princess intended to give herself to the man she had paid to find her missing brother?
Tansy felt dizzied, her entire body alight with a strange sense of half panic, half excitement. He was here, and she would have to face him.
“Just a moment, if you please,” she called loudly to the guard, casting a frantic glance around the chamber to make certain everything was in its place.
The window was closed, the curtains neatly closed. The bed looked occupied. She strode to it anyway and plumped the pillows, arranging the counterpane to her satisfaction. Delaying the inevitable.
She walked across the room, telling herself that she could survive one more encounter with King Maximilian. But then she opened the door a small sliver and saw broad shoulders, a massive chest, and a knowing, dark stare, and all the reassurances she had offered herself promptly died a swift death.
“Your Majesty,” she murmured, awareness washing over her like molten honey.
“Lady Tansy.”
The way he said her name in his deep voice made it sound like a sin.
She swallowed hard. “The princess is sleeping.”
He raised a brow, his lips tightening incrementally. “I’ll wait until she wakes.”
She stepped back with great reluctance, allowing him just enough room for entrance, his large body shielding the empty bed from the guard’s view beyond in the hall. When he closed the door at his back, she retreated swiftly, putting some necessary distance between them.
For despite all her fervent vows to herself, she was once again alone.
With the king.
His stare traveled up and down the length of her body, and she knew a fleeting, foolish urge to check her gown for wrinkles and her hem for tears or stains. “Good evening.”
She dipped into a curtsy. “Good evening, Your Majesty.”
He was already walking when she straightened, his long-limbed strides taking him across the chamber to the princess’s bed. With a swift, efficient motion, he peeled back the bedclothes, revealing the lumpy assortment of pillows beneath.
“As I suspected,” he drawled.
His countenance was as hard as if it had been hewn in stone; there was no softness to King Maximilian. Not even a spare hint of flesh on his lean, muscular form. And his implacable stare was upon her, as if she were responsible for Princess Anastasia’s failure to return promptly enough for his call.
Her suspicions over the princess’s tardiness made Tansy’s ears go hot.
The king’s gaze narrowed to glittering obsidian slits as he let the bedclothes drop back into place. “You know something you aren’t confiding in me.”
