The title caught my breath.
Wife.
He called me hiswife. It was a word I had expected to hear eventually, but not so soon, and I felt a whirl inside my chest at the sound of it.
“As you command, sir,” the footman said. He whispered into the Prince’s ear. Sam nodded curtly back.
“Yes, good,” he said. Then his joy deepened as he turned to me. “Shall we start, my love?”
Chapter 5
The Prince bore a strut to his walk as he traveled alongside me through the Palace. It was an unmistakable quality about him, a hue of courage one could fall for if they weren’t careful. He was charming, and every word I said sounded needy and gushing. I tried to remain focused on the topics I had been schooled in concerning new acquaintances, especially with Ser Elías chaperoning us twenty feet behind.
“Your home is so open compared to mine,” I told him.
“I’ve heard in Oreia that the Capitol is made of stone, iron, and ice,” Sam said. “But I’ve always assumed the latter was a joke. What say you?”
“I say your assumption is logically sound, but there issomeice,” I said. “More in scenery than our structure, I’m afraid. Have you ever been there?”
“Ísfjall? No,” he said. “I’d like to. One day. Perhaps.”
“Well, if we’re to be wed, I’m sure one day will happen.”
He asked, “Do you travel much?”
“No,” I said. “This is my first time so far west. Or south. Actually, it’s my first real time from home.”
“Truly?”
“My father is…”
“Controlling?” Sameer asked.
I paused.
“I didn’t…” He put on a smile.“My father is very controlling,”he whispered. “I was trying to be funny.”
“Oh.”
“I travel,” he said. “I’ve been very far, just not in your direction. Though, there are beautiful shores in Gosil. Have you been there?”
“No, sir,” I said. “As I said, I haven’t really left the North.”
“Protective,” he said.
“Come again?”
“Protective,” he repeated. “It sounds better than controlling.”
“Oh. I suppose His Majesty is…often concerned,” I replied. “It comes with the territory. In his defense, the world is very…Well, I’m not sure.”
“Do you like it here? In Chalke?” he asked.
“It’s very bright,” I said. I mused at my observation. “In everything, not just the open windows. Although, admittedly, most of the windows I have ever known are stained glass and look particularly cold in certain lights. Perhaps that’s the reality of the ice lore?”
“Ice lore?” he asked.
“You said you heard the castle was made of ice,” I said.
