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“As if a hereditary king is any different.”
“You could leave at any time,” Orion pointed out. “You could have stayed in France, for example. Or gone off to America, as so many do. Instead, you chose to stay. Here, on the island. And to involve yourself in his schemes.”
She pressed her lips together. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Perhaps not. But I do know that I would never participate in blackmail.”
But if he expected to shame her, he was disappointed. She only shrugged, then smirked a bit, as if pleased with her own insolence. “That doesn’t keep me up at night, Your Majesty. Did you think it would?”
“Orion.”
Her smirk faltered. “I beg your pardon?”
It was his turn to shrug, then. “You’re my betrothed. And, apparently, intend to continue to treat me in as cavalier a fashion as possible. You might as well use the correct name, don’t you think?”
And he could see, somehow, that didn’t sit well with her. That there was something about the request that made her shift, then sit even more stiffly beside him.
“That wouldn’t be right,” she said, glaring down at the ring on her finger. “That would make everything...messier.”
“Would it?” He found himself smiling, and his heart was beating too fast in his chest. “Or is it instead fear? Once you succumb to familiarity, will it be harder and harder to do your father’s bidding?”
She let out a breath that was not quite a laugh. “Don’t be silly.”
“Familiarity. Intimacy. These things take their own toll. What will become of you, Calista, do you think?”
“I didn’t give you permission to usemyname,” she pointed out, but there was no heat in it.
They were in the back of a car, winding their way down the hill into the city proper. They were as alone as they could get.
Maybe that was why he reached over and picked up her hand, the hand that wore the ring that was the symbol of his kingdom.
“I am your king,” he reminded her. “I do not require your permission. And in any case, using your name is the very least of the intimacies I plan to share with you tonight.”
Her gaze flew to his, alarmed. “Tonight? What intimacies?”
“It is customary to seal the announcement of a royal engagement with a kiss, Calista. Surely you know this.”
“How would I have the slightest idea?” she asked, her voice sharp again. But not, he rather thought, in quite the same way it had been. Instead, it felt connected to all that heat in him. “I wasn’t alive when your father and mother were betrothed, was I? How could I possibly know how they did it?”
“I thought all Idyllian girls were raised on dreams of marrying into the royal family.”
Her hand in his flexed, as if she wanted to curl it into a fist. “Not this Idyllian girl.”
“My father was more traditional back then,” Orion told her. “He was still the crown prince, for one thing, and my grandfather would have taken a dim view of any deviation from tradition. So at the first of the holiday balls, my father presented my mother to the kingdom, as the Kings of Idylla have always done. He showed them all that the ring of Idylla sat on her hand, claiming her for the people as well as himself. And he kissed her on the balcony of the opera house, then danced with her as a grateful nation cheered.”
“That sounds ghastly. My teeth hurt just thinking about all that forced sweetness.”
“Nevertheless, we will follow the same script. Your dental trauma notwithstanding.”
“Will we?” She glared at him. “I have no desire to kiss you, on an opera balcony or anywhere else, and I don’t dance.”
“Whether you choose to dance or not, in your private life, is your business, Calista.” She tried to tug her hand from his, but he held on. “But tonight, your dancing is my business, and I regret to inform you that I’m already well aware that you know how. Like every other girl of noble birth, you were trained in such things at a very young age. Did you think I would not check?”
“You can’t make me dance with you.”
“I don’t have to,” Orion said, almost idly. “You appear to be more afraid of your father than you are of me. Feel free to tell him that you intend to buck tradition entirely tonight. I’m sure he will be fully supportive of this choice.”
She was silent for a moment. The car was making its way down one of the city’s wide boulevards, done up with holiday lights. Flags waved from the hood while people lined the street, the holiday decorations that went up this first week of November making them look red and green and gold, and cheered.
