A smug grin spread across his face. ‘Because we’re all so self-absorbed?’
The way his face lit up made him look way too distracting. The king needed to be taken down a peg before his ego inflated beyond our platonic agreement.
‘If the shoe fits,’ I said, enjoying his barely registerable scowl.
‘You’re a princess, though,’ he shot back. ‘Wouldn’t this logic imply you’re egocentric too?’
Kicking a loose rock in his direction, I wished for it to hit his shin, but it never did. My aim was for shit. ‘I probably am.’
‘No. You’re not,’ he countered with his lips pursed into a tight line. His mood swings were worse than mine.
I considered it. ‘Compared to the common people I am.’
‘And compared to other royals I know, you’re a saint,’ he claimed, walking by my side.
‘Or a bore,’ Anya grunted.
‘Don’t you have a crush to pester?’
‘I have no such—’ she roared, and I kicked her out.
The sting of their words was an uncomfortable feeling. ‘Yes, several people have mentioned I am uptight. It’s just who I am.’
River ran a hand over his face, shaking his head before addressing me, ‘Nothing wrong with that. I didn’t mean to insult you; I only meant to say that you have morals, which is a pleasant change from the surrounding depravity.’
‘Oh.’ That was unexpected. ‘Thanks.’
‘People call you uptight?’ he grilled, as anger shimmered in his eyes behind the mask ofcalmness.
I was either getting better at reading people or reading him, the possibility of the latter being more disturbing.
Some time ago, he said if he hadn’t been crowned, he’d open a forgery. I thought with the way he hid from truth, theatre would have suited him way better.
‘Everyone I know thinks I’m uptight,’ I said, meeting his gaze head-on. ‘It’s not a secret.’
‘Who?’
Letting out a loud exhale, I gave in. ‘Alec, my father, Emily, even Willow. And you.’
His wide shoulders tensed as his face fell. I looked fascinated before he caught my gaze. ‘I only ever said it as a joke.’
'The truth is I agree,’ I admitted. ‘I’m trying to work on it.’
Still on edge, he tried his best not to show it. ‘Really? How?’
Was there even much to say? ‘It’s more of a mental process. I’m trying not to dwell on the negatives too much.’
‘And it’s working?’ he asked.
‘To some extent. Having Miriam book me a therapist appointment when I told her I like to overthink my problems until they vanish was… an experience.’
The corners of River’s mouth lifted slightly as if what he just heard pleased him. ‘Did you go?’
Did he also think I needed therapy? Touché. ‘I did, but only to give her peace of mind since she has too much on her plate as it is. That wedding is killing her.’
‘It seems you don’t want her to marry him. Why?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘He’s not the right fit for her. She’s so compassionate and enthusiastic about everything, and he’s like a chewed-up oatmeal.’
