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Istart out of the room with Abigail in tow. The room is quiet behind us.
And I don’t care what they say once we’re out of earshot.
Abigail also doesn’t say anything until we are in our bedroom with the door closed.
Then with my eyes on her the entire time, I take off my crown, and pull my tie loose, sliding it out from my collar and tossing it to the floor.
I unbutton both of my cuffs and start rolling up my sleeves.
"Torin?" Her tone is curious, and her voice soft.
"You had a lot to say at dinner, Princess."
She nods. "You know how I get when I'm excited. When I talk about the farms."
"And you have big plans for tomorrow."
She wets her lips. "Yes. I should've told you about that before. Are you upset?"
"I'm frustrated."
Both of my sleeves rolled up, I unbuckle my belt and slide it out of the belt loops. She watches intently. She’s not worried, that’s clear.
"Frustrated. Why?"
"Because I love our farms. I love how involved you're getting. I love that you get excited. But I would very much like to be able to excite you and completely overtake your thoughts. Like that fucking farm does. Like you do mine."
She takes a step toward me. "I think about you all the time."
"But you'd rather talk about the farms and have everyone at the pub talking about the market than about us."
She shakes her head. "That's not it."
"That's how it sounded."
"The farms are about you. Your plan for the country. I want everyone to know that. It’s why I’m here. And the market?—"
"Abigail,” I say, low and firm, cutting her off.
I know it's not entirely rational. I know she's not trying to anger me. And it's not truly anger that I’m feeling. It's intense exasperation. But the combination of that’s why I’m here, as if that’s the only reason, and that fucking word—market—again, makes my remaining thin thread of patience snap.
“Yes?” she asks.
“Stop. Talking.”
I can’t believe I’m saying those words to this woman. But I am so caught up in her. I'm obsessed with her. I would really like her to at least be distracted when I'm around, if not thoroughly consumed by me.
“Take your clothes off.”
She presses her lips together. And makes no move to take anything off. "The farms are not more important than you are, Torin."
"Show me,” I say shortly. “I want to be the only thing you are thinking about. Give me your full attention, Abigail."
I see her catch her breath.
Then she nods.
"Take everything off except your crown, your wedding ring, and the panties that better be the same ones you’ve had on all day."
