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“Mostly,” he said, “if you don’t enjoy things, you will become cold and hard and dead inside.”
“What? Like you?” She asked it with some humor, but she had no idea.
“Yes,” he said. “Like me.”
She looked slightly abashed. “Sorry,” she said.
“Are you going to say that you didn’t mean it?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I very much meant it. Only I am sorry that I said it. I’m very out of practice with talking to people I don’t hate.”
He laughed, the bubble of humor in his chest entirely unexpected.
“Are you?”
“I have made friends,” she said. “Here on my staff. But it is a learning process.”
“I see.”
“Yes, I think you do.”
“Regrettably, talking to people that you hate will be part of the position that you occupy. I have to talk to people I hate all the time.”
“As a hit man or as an image consultant?”
“As an image consultant. I don’t talk to anyone in my other job. And you had better be careful about where and how you speak of such things. I’ll ask again—how did you find out about me?”
She shifted. “No one knows who ‘The King’ is. I know. They know you are coming for them, but they did not know from where. Me, I listen. I have nothing else to do but listen. I collect information as I can. And somehow, it all just fit.”
“How did you know about me at all?”
“Your sister Violet. I was fascinated by her. By this woman from California, who married a Prince and helped reform a country. After all, is that not what I must do?”
“Yes. Though I think you must give her husband and his brother some of the credit for the reformation of their country.”
“Yes. I did not say they don’t get credit. But I was intrigued by the way bringing in an outsider could help. That is when I started looking at you. And that is when I realized. That you are The King.”
“Again, how?”
“Connecting dots.”
“No one else has connected those dots.”
“When you are a prisoner for so very long, and cut off from so many things, your other senses become heightened. And you learn how not to be stupid. And so, I am not stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“I saw you.”
His breath left his body. She looked up at him, her pale eyes glittering. “I was hiding. In the dungeon. I heard footsteps. And I am not a fool. When you are kept locked away, you have very few options when it comes to deciding when you want to speak to someone or not. So, often, I’m quiet. I hid in the corner. I heard you. And I saw you. But you did not see me. I was in the darkness, and I saw you. Your eyes.”
“My face was covered.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I saw your eyes, and though you did not see me, I felt it. Like lightning here,” she said, touching her stomach. “When I saw you in your house, it was the same. I’ve never seen eyes like lightning.”
He gritted his teeth, holding back what he thought might be the truth. It wasn’t so much that she recognized him as she was attracted to him. And who would have ever thought that his undoing would become some virgin trapped in a dungeon recognizing him because he made her heart beat faster.
“But you must have known before you came.”
