Sol had a feeling he was merely placating Meena, but he couldn’t blame the man. Watching Meena’s happiness made him happier than he’d ever felt on his own. “Thank you for the game, and for having us in your home,” Sol said. “I think it is time we find our rooms for the night.”
“Of course,” Jules responded. With his arm still around his wife, he led them back down the hall.
“The servants should have had time to unload the chests into your room,” Ezra explained.
She only indicated a single room, which made Sol slightly nervous. Rich, married people did not share the same room. Why else would they have such large houses?
Jules and Ezra stopped at an open door in a quiet section of the house.
With a quick glance, Sol confirmed that it was a single room. With a single bed.
“Ah, to be young and in love,” Jules said to his wife. “I wish we were newly wed again.” Tilting his head, he kissed his tall wife.
Meena squeezed Sol’s arm, and he felt his face growing hot. Not in embarrassment, of course, but the kiss reminded him of the moment he shared with Meena. The moment that he had enjoyed far more than he was willing to admit. The moment that had distracted him from his purpose for too many days already.
“How long have you been married?” Meena asked, innocently.
“Three months,” Jules responded. “It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago.”
Sol snorted.
Meena pinched his arm again, and he quickly turned it into a cough.
“Thank you again, for having us in your home,” Meena said, covering up his awkwardness. “I hope to win many more games of quugot against you.” Her sweet voice held a confident challenge.
Sol tugged at the collar of his shirt. She was a distraction. He worshipped his father, then lost him. He would never make that mistake again.
Even if he miraculously succeeded in his mission—and remained alive—there was far too much left to do to spend his time wooing a princess. Even if that princess could get him to enjoy something as simple as a tossing game.
“I’ll send you my maid, Princess,” Ezra said.
“Tomorrow, my love, tomorrow.” Jules winked at Meena. “She has no need of Laila tonight.
“Goodnight,” Sol said firmly. He needed to end this conversation. And he needed to get a certain princess out of his head so he could make plans for the next day.
“You like them,” Sol whispered when they were finally alone in their room, dropping her hand from his arm. He didn’t dare speak too loudly.
Meena paused for an awkward moment. “I was play-acting,” she whispered. The look she gave him was filled with confusion. “Ensuring they like us.”
“Your laugh was too real for that to be playacting,” Sol responded. He knew his words were petty, but he had to put distance between them.
The princess jumped back, as though she had been slapped. “And you know me well enough to know my laugh?” she said, clearly hurt. “I suppose you were play-acting out there as well? Meena mine?” She spat his words from the beach back at him.
He brushed past her, walking the perimeter of the room.
This was good. This was back to a relationship he could control.
The relief and joy he’d experienced from winning the game was gone. His muscles were back to their usual tense state.
He stopped, checking the window and curtains to ensure they were locked and closed. That the room was safe. “Actually, I was hoping they would be a bit more like the keeper you described on the shore earlier. A big nosy man who kept his watchful eye on us at all times. Then we would not have to worry so much about faking this relationship behind closed doors.”
Meena gasped at the harshness of his words.
He went to the door to ensure it was also locked.
She turned her back to him and sat on the corner of the bed, reaching down to remove her shoes.
Sol waited for her equally harsh response, but she said nothing. After several moments, Sol felt a small pit form in his stomach. She’d never been voluntarily quiet for this long before. Somehow, he knew she would not speak to him again for the remainder of the night.
