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I twist toward The Prince, expecting to find him already leaning in. It’s just a kiss, and it seems stupid to lose the game over something so meaningless.
But The Prince’s grip on the back of the booth turns his knuckles white, and he presses himself further into the corner of the booth, putting as much distance between us as he can.
“It’s just a kiss,” I say aloud, even as my traitorous stomach does that strange fluttering again.
The Prince swallows thickly, his throat bobbing.
“Kiss her,” his sister demands.
I frown at him, and he shudders.Shudders. Like I’m some kind of disgusting vermin. I sit back and stare at the table, trying not to feel anything at all about that, butfuck. How am I supposed to complete my mission if he’s repulsed by me? I open my mouth to say something, anything to salvage the situation, but I’m shocked into silence as The Prince shoves out of the booth. He practically topples me over trying to get out, even though he could’ve just gotten out the other way. “What the hell?” I growl as I catch myself against the booth’s vinyl seat.
He says nothing as he plants his boots on the ground and angrily strides away, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Oh, what a big baby,” The Princess pouts. She drops down into the booth and cups her face with her hand. “He’s never any fun.”
I barely hear her, my eyes trained on The Prince’s burgundy suit as he jogs down the staircase. I bite my lip, then push out of the booth and hurry after him, something in me demanding I do so. Ineedto understand what just happened, and I refuse to return to The Beast empty-handed. I could go after The Princess, but women have never been my strong suit.
I go downstairs and follow The Prince through the crowded bar, pushing through dancing people.
He leaves through an exit, and I jam my foot between the door and the frame before it can close, shouldering it open and picking up my pace.
“Hey!” I shout after him.
The Prince freezes but doesn’t turn around. “Go back inside, Zora,” he bites out, his voice filled with tension.
“What was that about?” I close the distance between us and grab his shoulder.
He yanks himself back and spins around. “Stop.”
“Am I that bad looking?” I ask. “Do I repulse you that much?”
His face twists in confusion. “What?”
“One little kiss, and you’re running away from me. How else should I take that?”
He blows out a breath. “Zora,” he says as if he’s warning me to shut up.
But dammit,no. There’s too much on the line. “What happened to ‘to honesty’?” I spit.
The Prince rubs the back of his neck.
I brace myself and lift my chin.
“Zora, no.” He lets out a ragged breath.
“No, what?” I snap.
He looks away. “My sister had no right —”
I scoff. “Fine, whatever. I don’t care. Just tell me you’ll give me a job.”
“You should focus on the tournament.”
Right. I almost forgot about the contest to win the hand of the Heir with everything else I’m juggling. “When is it?”
“Soon.”
I clench my fists. “I need something now.”
