Page 50 of Royal Resistance

I wince at the title. Not tonight. I don’t want to be the queen tonight.

“Would you recognize her tonight?” I met Benny’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and smile, a toothier grin than my usual close-lipped, tight smile.

This is exciting. This is fun. I’m twenty-nine years old, and I’ve never snuck out of the house to go dancing before.

It’s not exactly sneaking out when you get a drive, but it’s still something.

“And she’s not Her Majesty tonight,” Diandra continued. “She’s Selene. No—Selly. Sally. She’s Sally, and I’m Dee, and we’re from Wabush.”

“They’ll know who you are,” Benny warned her.

“They’ll pretend they don’t.”

Diandra’s—no, Dee—ruse works. I tell everyone I’m Sally from Wabush. I talk to men. So many men.

There are only a few women there, and none of them talk to us.

I talk to everyone. I talk more than I’ve talked in a long time. And I dance. And between meeting and smiling, and refusing the drinks they offer to buy me, I talk to Diandra.

About Magnus.

“He still hasn’t kissed me,” I confide during one of our bathroom breaks.

Beer, apparently, makes you visit the washroom more frequently. And Diandra never lets me out of her sight, so she comes with me every time I go.

“How has he not kissed you?” Diandra seems aghast at the news, which makes me feel better. Better… and worse. Because I’ve been thinking a lot about the lack of kissing in my marriage, and I’ve come to the conclusion it’s my fault.

Until Diandra.

“He’s an idiot,” she announces.

“He doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“He wants to kiss you. This entire bar wants to kiss you, so of course he does.”

“The entire bar does not want to kiss me.”

She just looks at me. “Have you not… do you not spend any time together?” she asks tactfully.

“We sleep together every night. Sleep,” I repeat, so she understands. “We have dinner and breakfast together, and we go for walks after dinner when we can, and he hasn’t… even… tried… to kiss me.”

I hadn’t realized how frustrated I am about the fact until I say the words.

“It is an arranged marriage, so maybe that’s not part of the arrangement,” I say sadly.

“I heard it was a marriage of convenience, and it is not convenient when your husband won’t kiss you.”

Just as she says that, the washroom door opens and a woman enters.

I hold my breath as she pushes past us at the sink and enters a stall. “She didn’t hear,” Diandra mouths.

I lift my shoulders, heart beating wildly, wondering if our game is up. Benny arrived a few minutes shy of the hour he gave us, accompanied by a woman. They took a table at the back and seemed more interested in each other than anything Diandra and I are doing.

“We should go back out,” I tell her quietly.

“You should kiss him,” she says in her regular voice. “Stop waiting. You’re a strong, independent woman, and if you want to be kissed, you shouldn’t wait to be kissed. Lay one on him.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”