“Show me the wine stock you’ve brought.” I can’t keep the breathiness out of my voice as I step closer to Wynn. I glance sidelong at Callum, addressing him. “Don’t let anyone through.”
Callum’s nod is sharp, his eyes cold, but he turns forward, fully on guard. I step into the cellar, shutting the door behind me.
We’re surrounded by hundreds of bottles of wine housed in rows upon rows of shelves. The aroma is nearly as intoxicating as Wynn’s lustful gaze and the dimple in his left cheek. Dark stubble has started to grow along the soft curves of his face—he’s matured since the last time I saw him. I step toward him, and he loops his arms around me.
But as he leans in to claim my lips, I’m immediately reminded of Lord Jamie of Darragh. They have the same sepia skin tone, brown eyes, and black hair. I turn my head and Wynn’s lips land on my cheek. His confusion is evident as he lets his arms fall. “Princess?”
I step back. “The Feast is rapidly approaching.”
“I know.” He sounds resigned. “How awkward is it that my father will be one of your suitors?”
I glance over my shoulder at him. “Awkward?” I laugh with despair. “Sure, let’s go with that word choice.” He runs his long fingers across my cheek, but my hand catches his mid-motion and he withdraws. Again, confusion crumples his face. I clasp my hands together in front of my body, closing him off. “Thank you for the delivery. Be sure to collect your payment from Lord Iywan.”
Wynn blinks at me. In this moment, he looks like the boy I once knew, and not the man only a year younger than me. It takes him a few seconds before he gets the hint and bows to me. “Until next time,” he says. I nod at his retreating back.
A flustered sigh escapes me just as the door swings open again.
“Princess? Everything alright?” Callum stands a small distance away, assessing my mood.
I hate it when people do that. “I’m not going to bite,” I say, though my tone deceives me.
“I wouldn’t object to biting.”
It’s so unexpected that it startles a laugh from me. I wave him toward me, and he toes the door closed before approaching. Wynn’s visit wasn’t what I’d anticipated. No, Iywan’s choice of suitors ruined thatfor me. But this… he can’t ruin this. Callum regards me with such intensity that my breath hitches.
I’m not sure who makes the first move, but our lips collide, hurried, sloppy, and so very exhilarating. I fumble with his sword belt, until the weapon drops to the floor. The strings of his trousers are next, but he bats my hand away, taking over. My lips part as I start to comment on this newfound boldness from him, but he silences me with another kiss and hoists up my skirt and underskirt. I’m in his arms and pressed against the wall in no time. All thoughts of alliances, betrothals, illnesses, and any responsibilities vanish. Wrapping my legs around him, I lock my ankles behind his back and fully give in, letting the pleasure numb my mind.
A while later, Callum goes still with a final groan against my shoulder, and it echoes through the cellar. “Hush,” I whisper. My lower lip feels swollen from the number of times I’ve bitten down to silence my own moans. I unwrap myself from around his waist and he sets me down on my feet again. My heart is still racing, and the aftershock of bliss renders my legs useless and trembling. With my hands pressed against Callum’s chest, I steady myself. How he’s managed to keep both of us upright is a mystery to me.
“Well, that was not quite what I was expecting, but no complaints here,” he says breathlessly. He steps back to gather his trousers from around his calves, and I smirk.
I push off the wall to rearrange my underskirts, my eyes on him all the while.
“No affections from the lordling?” he asks.
“I may be marrying hisfather. It’s a bit of a turn-off.”
Callum schools his features into indifference. I’m aware of his jealousy, but I wish he would wise up and realize that ourarrangementcan be nothing more than what it is.
With a sigh, I straighten my clothes and my hair. I’m still flushed, and Callum doesn’t help as he leans in to kiss me. I put up my hand to stop him, and he rights himself again, gathering his sword belt.
The wooden crate of wine that Wynn brought in is right beside us. One crate of many. I walk along the shelves, needing a distraction from everything quickly resurfacing in my mind. How hard would it be to disguise myself and hop into Wynn’s wagon? Maybe he’s still on the premises. It would get me out of the castle, out of Paramount, away from… everything.
“Princess.” Callum’s voice tugs me out of my delusions.
“Do you know how old Lord Jamie is?”
Callum is taken aback. “In his forties, I believe.”
“That fits,” I say with a sigh. I believe Commander Rheon is also in his forties. It’s as if Iywan has intentionally lined up men twice my age for my pickings.
Gone is the bliss from moments ago, and I wish I could’ve just stayed in that moment. Weariness takes hold of my mind, dragging down my mood until I want to crawl into a hole in the earth. It’s always the same—the high is immediately followed by a devastating low that makes me question if I’ve ever truly experienced joy.
“Your Highness?” His forehead is creased with concern. “Are you alright?”
I want to tell him that I’m not alright. That I’m always craving more.Somethingmore. That even in the presence of someone I trust, I feel alone. My lips part and the words sit on the tip of my tongue:I feel nothing.
I feel everything.
