Lily doesn’t say anything about it, just eats her food. But I’m devastated. I have to admit I was hoping to see him as much for myself, as for his daughter.
We both eat quietly in the fancy, echoing dining room with the long table, huge stone fireplace and the wall of windows.
I do my best to hide my irritation. This is fine. Viktor has important work at the Defense Ministry and a thousand demands on his time. And I am thenanny; it is not my place to have opinions about whether the Crown Prince of Krovenia joins his daughter for breakfast.Stay in your lane,I tell myself firmly.
Afterwards, we start back toward the nursery, Lily and I, walking hand in hand down the long stone corridor. It’s time for her studies. The morning light pours through the tall windows in golden columns and the rain from last night has left everything washed and bright. I try very hard to focus on what a beautiful day it is and not on the small tight knot ofdisappointmentsitting in my chest.
We pass the open door of Viktor’s study.
I do not look in. They told me at orientation that I am not to disturb the Crown Prince at his work. The study isoff limits.I keep my eyes forward.
But Lily stops and turns very small and quiet, and peeks around the doorframe into her father’s study.
Uh oh.
I freeze beside her, prepared to gently guide her on and then I hear his deep voice from inside. Warm in a way I have never heard before. “Good morning,Lily.”
A small smile breaks across the little girl’s face. She lets go of my hand and skips forward. “Good morning, Papa.”
I look in. Viktor is at his desk, wearing a crisp dark shirt with the top button undone, sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm. His dark hair is tied back at the nape of his neck. A tablet rests in front of him, files stacked beside it. In daylight, he is somehow more handsome. Last night he was rain-soaked, feral and dangerous, and my brain at least had theclay maskand thepajamasto anchor the moment in absurdity. This morning is different.
The Dark Prince in the sun.
His eyes are on his daughter. The corner of his mouth has lifted into something I would not call a smile exactly but is the closest thing to one I have ever seen on his face. I want to take a picture and lock this image in my mind forever, this small, half-second softening of the hardest man in Krovenia, looking with love at his daughter. This is the version of the Crown Prince that the staff loves.
And then his gaze shifts to me. For the briefest moment his eyes arethankful,which causes me to think he’s been told that Lily has been making progress already.
But the longer he looks at me, the more his expression changes.
My breath catches.
His pupils darken and his jaw tightens.
I amfully dressed in a perfectly modest blue sweater and comfortable dark pants. My hair is down and I have a little bitof makeup on, but not too much. I’m dressed professional this morning, but in clothes I’m not afraid to get a bit of paint on and that will allow me to move easily on and off the floor.
“Good morning, Hazel.”
He said my name. Oh wow. With no honorific, no title, no buffer of formality.
My brain short-circuits. “Good morning, Your—” I start.
His brow lifts.
My cheeks burn. “…Viktor.”
The tiniest curve of his mouth. There and gone. And then his eyes drop for the briefest, slowest sweep, from the top of my head down the length of my body, lingering for a half-second on the soft V-neck of my sweater, the slope of my hip, the bare line of my ankles above my flats, and thenup,snapping back to my face.
It happens in less than a second.
My entire body lights up like a struck match. I am completely and immediately wet and there is no way to pretend otherwise to myself. My thighs press together involuntarily.
“We’re on our way for her studies,” I croak.
He nods. “Good…Good. Have a nice morning.” And then his tablet chimes and he picks it up.
I steer Lily out of the doorway and down the corridor. I do not look back.
I do not breathe properly for about fifteen feet.
