“No, I'm not sure what you mean by the human musk being a potential issue,” he says in an airy voice. “I find my bride's natural scent utterly intoxicating.”
“I can't say I've given much thought to making burial arrangements for her just yet. My bride and I plan to have many joyous years ahead of us.”
“Watching her eat doesn't make me gag. Yes, I've seen her do it many times and have coped just fine.”
If this is what the court believes passes for polite conversation, I can’t imagine what they must say behind closed doors.
With each question, I push away further and further from where I am. My eyes find solace in the massive paintings my father created, in the archways that frame the exit to the carpet of lush green grass under a sparkling sky.
I want to be there now.
A wave of lightheadedness washes over me and I blink rapidly, trying to clear the spots from my vision. Between the stress of the ball, the lack of substantial food, and my ever-present anemia, my body is starting to rebel. I down iron pills dutifully, but it’s not enough.
Fuck, I hate this weakness. I’m determined not to let anyone notice I’m close to swaying on my feet.
Charming's hand flexes at his side, and I can tell he's struggling to maintain his composure. If I'm barely tolerating this, I can only imagine how he must feel, having to play nice with these priggish assholes.
There's been a distance between us since I helped feed him.
No, earlier than that.
Since he kissed me in the cemetery.
The memory of his lips on mine, the taste of his tongue, the way his body pressed against me—it's all seared into my brain, impossible to forget.
Prince Kaison Charming has bled for me. Has burned himself on my tongue piercing, and still kept in control to keep kissing me.
While I was scared shitless when he pinned me to the counter, a large part of me believed he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn't bite me.
He controlled himself when I cut myself. He protected me from that guy who assaulted me at the bar. And apparently, he’d been trying to protect me from those boys.
That realization caused a pinch in my heart that has yet to release.
I thought I was branded by his scathing look, marked by his hate and disgust, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Had the young, serious-face prince been trying to communicate a moment of solidarity?
Whoa, Nelly. I’m spiraling over here.
I can't let myself get carried away. This thing between us, whatever it is, can't be real. I'm just a means to an end for him, a way to piss off his father and thumb his nose at Midnight society.
Since the incident with the blood he’s not come close to touching me again, giving me all the space I’ve said I need. Evennow. His hands are folded behind him in a royal posture. But a traitorous part of me wishes he would put his hand on my back or set my fingers at the crook of his arm. Anything to make me feel like I'm not just a pretty accessory.
What are you even saying, Cinder?You don’t want him to touch you. Especially not after he almost lost control.
“Won't she get dreadfully jealous of all your other. . .dalliances? Humans are so emotional about such things, or so I'm told.”
The question snaps me out of my thoughts, and I glance up to see Charming clear his throat. Several pairs of eyes bounce between us, searching for some kind of reaction. Some weak point they can needle into and then later wag their tongues.
Another rush of dizziness sways me slightly to the left. My gaze latches on the moving lips of the jerk speaking, but my vision swirls. Cotton might as well be stuffed in my head and ears, making it impossible to focus. Heaviness weighs my limbs down, but I stand my ground, refusing to fall.
“Now that I am an engaged prince, Cinder will not need to worry about me straying,” he says, his hand finally coming to rest on the small of my back.
I stiffen at the contact. Not because I dislike it, but because I hadn’t been prepared for it. As quickly as it's there, his touch is gone, leaving me strangely bereft.
The couple in front of us shares a knowing look, doubt and amusement plain on their faces.
“Come now, Your Highness. We all know your reputation. The playboy prince, always chasing the next thrill. This little experiment with a human bride is amusing, but let's not pretend it's anything more than another passing fancy, hm? You couldn’t commit to a woman any more than you could to anything else.”
