“But then last night, it was worse. So much worse. I couldn’t just let you suffer.”
His words stabbed her insides and she tried to hide her reaction, placing a cold mask over her emotions as she finally lowered her dagger and stood tall.
The action pulled the hem of her shirt higher on her thighs and the prince’s eyes briefly flash down at the movement. To his credit, he didn’t linger a second time. He lowered his hands.
“I have a Sound Stone,” she said.
“I assumed.”
“You can hear me anyway.” It was not a question.
“So it would seem.”
Solveig slumped down on the furs, all feeling of safety having vanished the instant she jumped out of bed.
For a moment, she yearned to go back to where they’d been a few minutes ago. It had been so real, so right. But it wasn’t and they couldn’t.
She rubbed her face with her hands as she tried to compartmentalize her emotions. When that didn’t work, she shoved them down and cut herself off from them completely.
Well, she tried to.
When she turned back to the prince, he was still standing there, looking unsure of what to do. He ran a hand through his hair, causing the hemline of his shirt to rise, giving her a glimpse of those delicious muscles he’d worked so hard for. She gripped her hands tightly in her lap as warmth pooled low in her core.
“I guess I’ll just ... go,” the prince said awkwardly, his body tensing. Shit. He could probably scent the change in her emotions. He grabbed his coat from the chair by the bed and swiftly made his way out.
“Thank you,” Solveig whispered just as he disappeared through the entrance of her tent. She didn’t know if he’d heard her.
She dropped back onto her bed, now cold from the lack of body heat, laying there for a moment before pulling herself together. She needed to move, so she stripped off her shirt and began searching for her running clothes. She had just grabbed her favourite black pants and top when her tent flap opened, the prince barging back inside.
“Solveig, I have to tell—” His voice trailed off when he laid eyes on her in only the panties she’d slept in, her breasts bare, full and peaked.
“Gods! What the Hel, Prince!” she said as he abruptly spun around.
“I’m s-sorry!” he stammered. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
Solveig quickly threw on her pants and band and stomped around, still barefoot, to stand in front of him. She pushed him as hard as she could. Though she was strong, he barely moved.
“Learn. To. Knock.” She punctuated each word with a shove.
He recovered from his embarrassment quickly. “You know, you don’t have to push me towards the bed—all you have to do is ask and I’ll gladly get back in with you,” he teased with a coy smile. Solveig tried very hard to keep her eyes away from the obvious bulge in his loose grey pants.
She let out a frustrated growl. But that wasn’t good enough. So she punched him in the face. The crack of bone was satisfying as the prince grunted with pain. She shook her fist out. His face was hard, but it was worth it.
“I deserved that,” he mumbled as he adjusted his nose back into place with another crunch. He used his shirt to wipe the blood off his face.
“You deserve more. Maybe I’ll shoot a few more arrows through your body today. I wonder if you’d recover if I shot one through your head. You know, just to see if you have a brain hiding somewhere in your thick skull.”
“Admit it—you’d miss me if I was gone.”
“I don’t think ‘miss’ is the right word.”
Another staring contest. They were beginning to get quite good at it.
Solveig cracked first this time. “What do you want, Prince?” she asked, every word ringing with exasperation.
“It was nothing,” he said quietly. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you still up for training today?” he asked as if it was an afterthought.
“If I get to shoot arrows at you and kick your ass, Hel yes.” Her heart was still beating out of her chest, but she gave him a small smile. “Now leave, please.”
