For a moment, I get lost in the depths of his eyes, and I wonder if he gets lost in mine. I’ve heard some men say that the pale blue of my eyes is unnerving. Yet when he looks at me like this...I don’t think he’s unnerved.
No, he looks at me like he’s thinking about doing things far too inappropriate during high tea.
“May I ask you a question, Princess?” he purrs, making a shiver travel down my back.
“Yes.”
“If I asked for your hand in marriage, would you want to accept?”
My eyes go wide. Of course, I know that he and my father have been in discussion about it. Yet that’s something that the men always decide—especially when it comes to royals, and even more so when it has to do with a powerless princess.
“You’re asking my opinion?’’ The idea is ludicrous. None of the other would-be suitors have ever asked me whether or not I wanted to marry any of them. The fact that he is asking is a bit mind-boggling.
“I am,” he says.
“My father’s opinion is the one that matters.” There’s a hint of bitterness crawling over my words like biting ants. “You have an incredible power and wealth that could restore Sixth Kingdom’s glory and stability.”
“Yes,” he says slowly. “But I am not asking about your father or your kingdom. I’m asking about you.”
Startled, I blink at him, my straight spine hitting the back of my chair.
“If you don’t want this, tell me at once,” he says, eyes looking between mine, his hand still holding my own with a steady warmth that’s so foreign. “I would never wish to move forward with something that you didn’t wish for. Would it make you happy, Princess?”
Sincerity drips off his tone like honey from a spoon. Slow and sweet, making me want to lean forward and lap it up.
This must be what it’s like. This must be what all those silly romance plays are about.
“I would be happy,” I finally answer quietly, though that word...I’m not sure I truly know what being happy means. I haven’t been happy since before my mother died years ago. But I would like to be happy again.
I would like to have a husband who I actually liked. Who actually liked me. I would like to have control over my life and not always be thrust away by my father, forever punished for being born a girl without any magic. If it weren’t for my white Colier hair, I suspect he may have tried to denounce me as his heir years ago.
I don’t even realize that a tear has dripped down my cheek until Tyndall lets go of my hand to reach up to brush it away.
Not once has a man ever touched my cheek. My own father never even placed a kiss there when I was young. So perhaps that’s why it feels like such an intimate thing. Perhaps I am so starved for and startled by touch, that it’s the reason I freeze beneath it.
“None of that,” he says quietly, and I don’t know whether I want to cry or smile, but he’s somehow gotten me to do both in the same hour, when I’ve gone without either for so long.
I marvel at the feel of his hand cupping my cheek. Marvel at how, for the first time in my life, I actually want.
Yet the moment is broken with the sharp hit that comes from the clearing of a throat. Suddenly remembering we’re not alone, I jerk away from him, gaze darting over to my ladies. They’re all looking at me now, disapproval pulling at their brows. Yet their chastisement doesn’t quite ring true. Not with the glint of excitement in their eyes now that they have a piece of gossip to later spread throughout the castle.
How I loathe them.
Clearing my throat, I take a moment to gather my composure as I run my hands down my skirt. Yet it’s not the fabric that I feel, it’s his touch, the way his fingers curled around my palm. The warmth that seeped in from his skin to mine. The trace of the tear he swiped away with his fingertip.
“Princess—” Tyndall begins, but that gets cut short too.
The door to the tea room opens, and my main guard walks in with a bow. “Pardon, Your Highness, but your father has requested to see the gentleman.”
I try not to let the disappointment show as we get to our feet. “Of course,” I say as we head for the door. “I’ll join you.”
Yet the guard shakes his head. “King Colier was specific. He wants to meet with only the gentleman.”
My spine stiffens, anger pressing my lips together tightly. Tyndall sweeps a light yet comforting brush against my back as he passes. “It’s alright, Princess. I will speak to your father, and then we can see about getting out to that theater, yes?”
I give a stilted nod. “I’d like that.”
He lowers himself into an elegant bow and then turns and leaves the room. The guard removes himself once more, while I return to the table and sip on tea that’s now gone cold, though I don’t really notice it.
