She stepped away from him, lifting her own hand as a signal to keep him away. “Listen, you don’t have to pick me over your kingdom. I appreciate this…thing we had, but let’s face it, it would never work out.”
“That’s fear talking.” I thought I had pushed through those walls. Disappointment expanded in his chest, and, like a sharpened blade, twisted into his heart. What kind of relationship would they have if he always had to prove his love for her?
“I got what I wanted. I know you have me here for sex and I’m still due for another week, so I can’t go anywhere. But if you have any affection toward me, please release me from the contract.”
“Izzy, I love you,” he said, his voice more of an accusation than declaration. He threw his hands in the air, desperate for a middle ground. Why couldn’t she see? Why did she have to treat their deal as a transaction when it’d become so much more? Unless…it hadn’t. His gut clenched, like a street fighter had given him the blow of his life.
“Can’t you see? Love isn’t enough.”
“I’m fucking tired of these games. Of you not believing in me. In us,” he said, tossing his words at her. Anger lanced through his heart, tensing up his entire body, and curling his fingers into a ball.
He hated letting her go, but he deserved someone who loved and trusted him 100 percent. “I thought my love for you was enough. I was wrong.”
He was ready to release her from the contract, as requested, from his life, and from his kingdom.
Chapter Sixteen
Izzy shoved her clothes in the bag.
She’d go to a hotel for the night, but she had to get away from the castle. She’d find a place to rest her head and gather her thoughts. Fighting with Nassor had been idiotic when she still needed him to bring Mary’s offenders to justice.
She couldn’t think straight, and maybe he’d been right—the fear was still there. Old habits died hard. Fear of losing him like she’d lost Mary. Fear of having a whole country telling her she wasn’t good enough for the king. She’d seen the look in the lawyers’ face when she talked back to the king in front of them. She’d probably broken a protocol she never knew existed.
Sadness filled her chest, tugging at her heart. She found a shirt he’d left over the chair and picked it up and smelled it. She loved his scent. Damn, she’d miss it.
Sighing, she put his shirt inside her bag. He wouldn’t miss it, right? She needed something to help her wean herself off. She felt her forehead tighten, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
A knock on the door sent a jolt of surprise through her. She smoothed her hand over her clothes and marched to the door to get this over with. Maybe it was her maid, offering again to help her pack—even though she’d already kindly declined. She needed to be alone, not to pretend to be okay.
When she opened the door, Kesia nodded at her. How did she know what was happening already?
“I came to check on you. Your maid told mine you’re packing.”
Izzy welcomed her inside, then closed the door behind them. “Yes.”
“Is it for a quick visit home? Has something happened?”
You don’t wanna know. She threaded her fingers, pacing in circles. How much of what happened could she share? She didn’t want to dismiss Kesia’s willingness to help, but to tell her the entire story would put her in jeopardy. She might hate me. What mother-in-law would approve of the son dating a woman he met at a virgin auction?
“There’s a lot I can’t tell you. You’ll have to talk to Nassor. I’m not leaving your kingdom until things are straightened out. But, yes, I’m going to a hotel.”
Kesia opened her small bag and retrieved a silver flask from it. She opened it and took a sip. “I feared you’d say something like that. Honey, I’ve been around for more decades than you. I’ve seen things. You’re not going to take away from me the right to know what happens in my castle.” Kesia offered her the flask.
She took a sip, the strong alcohol burning down her throat. She shook her head, wanting to distribute some of that hazy sensation down her body. What the hell? She was about to leave, anyway.
“I’m not sure a flask will do. I might need an entire bottle,” she said, bringing the flask to her mouth and gulping down more scotch. When she sat it down on the console table, a heady sensation loosened her limbs, somehow temporarily sweeping away her concerns.
“It all started at an auction. Not the type you go for rare art pieces or coveted paintings. I’m talking about…a virgin auction,” she started, explaining how Mary’s death prompted her to join the auction in hopes of getting money to avenge her death. Without a break, she continued, and Kesia heard her story without interrupting. With each word, her stomach knotted tighter. What if the woman hated her now?
It’s not like I need her approval anymore. Right now, she just needed a listening ear. Still, she ignored the cold sweat in her palms and the erratic beating of her pulse, and kept going.
“It’s an awful lot to process,” Kesia said when she finished, touching her temples as if trying to alleviate a headache.
Izzy studied her face, adamant on reading her reaction. A strand of relief coursed through her when she didn’t see any obvious signs of judgment. She chewed her bottom lip. “Well, I won’t be here anymore if you tell him. You know, I’m sorry. Maybe Nassor will hate me for telling you this, but at least I’m telling someone.” Feels good.
Kesia looked up at the ceiling, drumming her fingers on her lap. What could be on her mind?
Izzy swallowed hard. God, he will hate me.
