“Help me out of this armor?” He knocked his breastplate.
“Really, Baldair? You’re not here more than an hour and you’re already trying to get some woman to undress you?” Craig said over a mouthful of food. He’d wasted no time in heading right for the spread laid out on the table.
“The task requires an extra set of hands,” Baldair insisted.
“Mother forbid we’re the ones to help you.” Daniel chuckled, strolling over to the table as well.
“If you think I can help, then it’d be my honor.” Vi smiled up at the prince.
“Then, follow me—”
“Wait,” Craig interjected. She and Baldair turned. “Do… do I know you?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps our paths have crossed in the palace,” Vi said. “I’ve been here for a few years now,” she lied deftly.
“Have you ever been a soldier?”
“I know the eyes of a soldier when I see one,” Baldair proclaimed. He rested his thumb on her chin, knuckle underneath, and turned her face toward his. The prince made a show of studying her eyes. Vi supposed this would be the part when the young woman he flirted with would swoon. But she still floated in that glassy, dark lake of her mind. “These eyes are soft, tender. They haven’t seen the trials of combat.”
Vi smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes, keeping her laughter at bay.
“I could’ve sworn I saw you in the North,” Craig insisted, unrelenting. “I know your face from a battle.”
She knew of the battle he referred to. It was in their first year—a night filled with fighting and fire, a night when Vi had helped Craig save Raylynn.
“My apologies, my lord.” Vi kept her eyes down, the smile falling into an expression that resembled distress. “I really don’t think—”
“Oh you’ve gone and upset her again. Don’t mind him, Miss…”
“Ivy,” Vi said hastily.
“Ivy, a lovely name.”
“And possibly poisonous,” Craig mumbled. Baldair shot him a glare.
“Follow me, Miss Ivy.” Baldair led her into the bedroom.
“Yes, my prince.”
“‘Baldair’ is fine.” He stood in front of an armor stand, arms out.
“You’ll have to tell me what to do, Baldair.” Vi said the name as though it were a new pair of shoes—uncomfortable and not yet broken in. Her attempt seemed to delight him.
“Start with the sides, there are clasps there—yes, you found them.”
Of course she did. Vi fought the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn’t as if she’d seen every type of armor known to the continent. Vi diligently worked on getting the prince out of his armor, refraining from being too hasty or skilled but not allowing his instruction to carry on for too long. She didn’t want to hamper their conversation.
“How is the front?” Vi asked as she continued to undo the buckles and clasps. “Will the war be over soon?”
“You didn’t hear my father’s declaration at the Sunlit Stage?”
“I was busy.”
“Oh, right, well, we expect the North to fall soon.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.” She helped hold the armor as he slid out of the main breastplate. Vi waited as the prince situated it on the armor stand.
“I’m happy the fighting will be over.” Genuine conflict shone in his eyes. She realized this was the first time she’d ever had the chance to really talk with the man.
