The short-haired version of Henry Cavill grinned at me. Tall and ripped with the same five o’clock shadow kissing his square jaw from the Witcher, he leaned against the wall on my left with one foot flat against it. Despite the cool air, his body heat licked my side, along with the scent of heather and honey.
I clutched my chest, though now it raced for an entirely different reason.
His silver-white eyes glowed, matching his cropped and spiked hair. He gave me a friendly once-over. My face remained buried in my hood, and I prayed he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks.
I took a few breaths. This was still Miss Q. This man didn’t exist. So, I guess checking him out didn’t exist either. Maybe I’d been viewing all this wrong. Instead of averting my gaze, I gave him a slower, longer look, which might not have been exactly socially acceptable.
The black material of his uniform clung to his muscled legs. I was a twenty-four-year-old virgin. No one wanted to sleep with capitalCcrazy. Based on the bulge between his legs, women with more experience than me would be drooling. He’d rolled up his tunic sleeves, exposing a bit of his defined biceps. I definitely didn’t let my gaze linger on his mostly undone tunic, exposing a little hair on his hard chest.
He pushed off the building, making the sword and knives strapped to his person stand out. The clicking of his weapons snapped me back to ‘reality.’ Ha,reality.
“Ah, what?” I stammered.
The man grinned, flexing his back. “The Castle’s buzzing with rumors. Apparently, a new dude fought his own magic.” He wiggled his thick white eyebrows. “Magic so strong it created the shape of a dinosaur or a mythical dragon, depending on who you ask.”
I shrugged. “Well, rumors. You know how it is.”
“They can be exaggerated,” he said, waving his hand flippantly.
I pursed my lips, disappointed he didn’t grunt like his TV counterpart. I didn’t need to gossip with Miss Q about myself.
“I was on gate duty.” He grinned, making his eyes crinkle. “So, I didn’t get to see it.”
My brain scrambled with his flirty tone. I suddenly couldn’t remember what I’d said about Miss Q, and my mouth opened. “Well, I had front-row seats, and the acting was terrible.” I threw my hands up in the air. “They need to work on their casting. And get more colorful props. Maybe sacrifice something to the weather gods. Sun would have helped a lot. You didn’t miss much.”
My heart raced as I waited for his reaction.
Laughter bubbled out of his chest, and a smile split my face. The gray fog suddenly didn’t seem quite so bad.
“Angela’s waiting for you,” the man said, pushing away from me and striding forward.
I followed, and a low wooden building appeared after only a few steps.
“Ah, not Hope?” I asked, grasping for the name Chancellor Morgen had given me.
The man hesitated. Before he could speak, the door opened with a loud bang. A slender woman, maybe a few years older than me, glared at the man. Braids held her wavy blonde locks back from an oval face with sharp features. A rich red velvet gown hugged her curves. Like my new friend, the cold didn’t seem to bother her in the least.
“We,” she stressed the word, “are here to get you set up.” She slid to the man’s side, and he wrapped his arm around her waist before dutifully bending and placing a kiss on her cheek.
I wrinkled my nose. Of course, he was taken—er—not real in the first place. Damn it.
The woman pointed at the door, and I hurried through it.
“My name’s Angela Moore,” the woman introduced herself in a sedate alto. “This is one of my suitors, my sixth suitor, to be exact.” She preened. “Rowan Tate.”
I raised an eyebrow. The word suitor hadn’t been used in years, but the pair seemed to be a couple. So, if Rowan was number six, well, then good for Angela?
Angela took a seat behind a massive desk in the corner, and Rowan leaned against the door we came in, the same way he’d stood at my side after scaring me.
He was clearly taken, but I wasn’t ready for our interaction to end. And none of this was real, so…
“So, is leaning a big pastime here?” I asked cheekily.
Rowan grinned. “I enjoy testing the strength of the walls.”
I chuckled, and Rowan smiled. His eyes lit up, making his face even more handsome. My thoughts scattered into the wind.
“Ahem. According to your information”—Angela picked up a glowing square with what looked like writing on it—“you have no family and no money.”
