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“Prince Corbin has decided it will be months before he returns to Freychon. It’s no longer practical for him to have the memostar. It is the daily companion to the lodestar’s information. It’s crucial to the country’s daily operations for the second in command to have it daily.”
“I know what the fuck it is.” I slammed my fist on the ancient table. “Why hasn’t Alaric called me? He owes me an explanation.” Part of this was family business that Wallace had no right to include himself.
“Your Highness, you were unavailable this weekend when the decision had to be made. The agents tried to return you to the palace as soon as it was possible for the briefing we’re having now. I understand you delayed your return.” He pressed his thin lips together.
I didn’t know if he was trying to condemn me for serving my country, or for defying his demand to return on his schedule.
“Is my military service inconvenient to the crown?” I taunted.
“Never.”
“Good. Then we agree on something.”
The memostar rested in front of me. I knew if I opened it, I would be accepting Pandora’s box. Accepting the responsibility inside it. Accepting I was no longer the kid brother prince.
The question was—was I ready for that?
Chapter Eight
Gillian
The meal Rae made for me was delicious. I’d always loved French food, and having my own personal crepe station was a decadent surprise. I could have anything I wanted. Chocolate. Cheese. Berries. It was amazing. All I had to do was say the word.
“Anything else, mademoiselle?” he asked, hovering in the kitchen doorway. “The pan is hot and prepared for you.”
“No. Thank you. It was wonderful.” I had eaten four crepes. Something I never would have done if it I hadn’t been starving and anxious. I had always been guilty of nervous eating. It was a bad combination for an actress.
Most people thought I had nerves of steel, but it was the farthest thing from the truth. Walking a red carpet made my palms sweaty and my knees shake. Speaking in front of large crowds was like a punishment instead of a reward. I was the actress who needed her character for strength, not the other way around. If only they’d let me carry my stake with me, I could handle anything.
“I’m honored.” Chef Rae bowed. “I will begin shutting the kitchen down for the night unless Prince Liam expects dinner?”
I had no idea how to answer his question. “I-I don’t know if he wants anything.”
“I’ll prepare a meal and put it in the oven for him.” Rae ducked into the kitchen. “Bon soir.”
The ice was starting to burn my arm. I needed a break from the anti-swelling routine. I pushed the bag to the pillow and wiggled my fingers. They moved easily. I was still relieved the accident hadn’t been worse. What if I had run into a car? Or had hit my face on the concrete rim instead of my arm? It could have been much more severe. I could be dealing with stitches and scars. I was lucky.
I looked around me. Instead of lying in my hotel room, I was in a palace. In Liam’s private apartments. I wondered how long it would take for me to accept this wasn’t a storyline. Tom wasn’t going to jump out the closet with his trademark fangs. This was real.
I touched my fingertips to my lips, remembering that kiss. The kiss that had become the kiss of a lifetime.
I didn’t know why I pretended to be unimpressed by Liam. Why I pushed away his flirtations. Why I tried to make him think I was uninterested, when I was clearly smitten like a little love kitten. He was gorgeous, sexy, and most arguably the best kisser in Galona.
But that’s what I did. I never let men near me. I didn’t let them get close enough. It was another occupational hazard. I could never tell if it was new fame they loved or me. Was I just an extra few thousand social media clicks for them, or was the sun and the stars to them?
I groaned and shoved off the couch. I hit the power button on the remote and turned off the TV. Liam had been gone for hours.
I looked at the gilded clock over the elevators. I couldn’t believe it was nearly eleven. I wanted to wash the day away. I wandered into the spare bedroom, ending in the magnificent guest bath. There was marble and glass everywhere.
I eyed the shower as I let my clothes fall to the floor.
I twisted the crystal knob and watched as the room filled with steam. It felt good to wash my hair. Let my body soak in the warmth of the rain shower. I didn’t realize how sticky I was from falling in the fountain until I began to coat my skin in bubbles. They slid down my stomach
and legs and swirled before disappearing in the drain.
I protected my arm from the hottest streams, but the more I stood under the cascade of water, the better I felt. Maybe I should have done this hours ago. I could almost feel the shitty day dissolving at my feet.
I froze when I thought I heard a sound. Was it footsteps? Was it a door? I leaned closer to the glass wall of the shower, straining to listen for a recognizable sound.
