The room stretched far into the distance, the floors made of white stone flecked with gold and silver. If I could pry one loose, I bet it would fetch enough coin to satisfy the Lady for a month.
Above the delectable floors, the pale walls rose to a high ceiling that arched above our heads, supported by more wooden beams that reached all the way down to the ground. The walls between curved into alcoves that bounced the light of golden candelabras. The wax must have been scented with mountain lily oil, as the entire room smelled of the flowers’ deep and heady perfume. The walls were adorned with paintings, scrolls, andsculptures—including a silver tiger longer than I was tall—and tables held more treasures: carved objects and golden oil lamps and tiny totems of the gods.
Oh, the fun I could have in here.
At the far end of the room—and it was far—was a wide alcove that rose to an arch. Its interior was covered in more pale green stone that seemed to glow from within, and it held a three-tiered dais topped with a gleaming silver throne.
“Head down,” Talia said before I could get my first look at the man who sat on that throne. “Eyes must be downcast when you approach His Highness.”
That seemed ridiculous, all things considered, but I did as I was asked and kept my head low as we traversed the cavernous space toward the chair and its royal occupant.
“Curtsy,” Talia said, then curtsied beside me. “Your Highness.”
“Please rise.”
I did, my gaze first on the gilded floor, and then I let it rise.
I expected to see nothing more or less than the person I’d seen before, again in fancier clothes and now sitting in a fancier chair.
I was wrong.
The prince’s legs were crossed, his elbows on the throne’s wide arms, his dark hair falling rakishly over one eye. He wore knee-high boots of shiny black leather that led to dark fitted pants. A shirt of crisp white linen was topped by an overrobe that fitted around his broad shoulders and fell to the floor in a puddle of luminous fabric. The exterior of the robe was a black that seemed dark enough to fall into. The interior was pale silver that looked liquid to the touch.
I’d thought his eyes were beautiful the first time I’d seen him,but that had been nothing compared to their devastating power now. They seemed to shine brighter and bluer—and pierced my soul more deeply, not just because he was wearing expensive clothes and surrounded by guards, but because he could finally be himself.
Being the prince wasn’t a costume worn by a soldier. He was both royalty and warrior—powerful, beautiful, and potentially deadly.
He waited in silence for a moment, as if to give me the opportunity to take it all in. Not just to see, but to trulyunderstand. Then he rose, his jacket falling fluidly around his body, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the long line of his legs.
I didn’t like the way my heart sped up. I didn’t like the charge of power in the room, like the tense moment just before the first strike of lightning in a summer storm.
As he moved toward me, the mantle of arrogance he’d worn in that chair seemed to slip away as if he was regaining a bit of his humanity with every step. Or maybe that was because he’d left Galen glowering behind him.
“How are you feeling?” the prince asked.
“Very—” I began, but my voice actually shook a little, which I refused to let happen. So I cleared my throat and tried again. “Very well, Your Highness.”
“You look a little less ghostly today. There’s color in your cheeks again.” He leaned toward me. “Should I have you empty your pockets?” His voice was a low whisper, and it made something flutter low in my belly.
“I’m hardly going to steal in front of you, Your Highness.” I smiled at him politely. And if I planned to steal something in front of him, he’d never see it.
“Since you won’t be doing laundry today, I thought I’d take you on a tour of the grounds.”
“Do you have time for that?”
He gestured to a table—dark wood with trestle legs—visible in a small room behind the throne. The table was stacked with documents and rolled parchments, books and inkpots. “I’ve spent the morning reviewing six months of financial records, missives about mountain lily yields, complaints about the cheating market sellers, garrison requests for additional weapons and armor. It seems my brother made very little headway.”
I hadn’t really considered what a prince would actually do, other than holding fancy balls and drinking from gold chalices. It was unkind, but I was impressed he’d bothered to read them all. And disappointed there wasn’t a single chalice in sight. Maybe they were in the treasury.
We followed the prince into the room, where he picked up a stack of papers and turned back to us. “Do you know what these are?”
“Love letters from would-be princesses?”
Talia snorted.
The prince looked her way and pointed to a slightly smaller stack. “This is the love letter pile, Talia.”
She nodded gravely. “Of course, Your Highness.”
