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“No,” I agreed. “You don’t seem like the type to follow anyone’s rules but your own.”
He grinned. “You’re right.”
“And what type am I?” I challenged. “Since you seem to think you know me so well.”
“Beneath that proper exterior, you’re a wildfire waiting to be unleashed,” he replied. “And I can’t wait to see what happens when I finally break through.”
“And you?” I asked, amused. “What type are you?”
“Determined,” he said without hesitation. “I always get what I want.” His eyes met mine.
“Wanting and getting are two different things.”
“Not for me,” he said confidently. “I always get what I want.”
“Even princes don’t always get what they want,” I pointed out.
“This prince does.” He lifted my hand and brushed his lips over my knuckles. “You’ll see.”
“And this princess doesn’t like to be controlled,” I said, my voice low. “You’ll see.”
Flirtatious banter was fun, but I would not let him think he could control me. No one did. Manipulative princes didn’t get what they wanted from me. No matter how gorgeous they were.
Darith coughed pointedly, and I turned to see her watching us with an amused expression.
Prince Maedras moved away from me and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The silver locket on his neck caught my eye, and I reached out, tracing the outline with my finger.
“What’s this?” I asked, my voice soft.
His eyes followed mine. “It was my grandfather’s. A gift from my grandmother.”
The cool metal was soothing under my fingertips, and I looked up at him. His eyes were shadowed, and I wondered what he was thinking. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry. I turned it around. The runes were Elvish, but the meaning was clear. I smirked. A delightfully naughty gift for a wedding day. Promises of pleasure, adventure, and excitement.
“And what does it say?” I asked, my voice light.
He smiled. “It’s an ancient Elvish saying. Loosely translated, it means ‘May I may fill your days with passion and pleasure´.’”
I met his gaze, my heart beating hard in my chest. “That sounds like a very interesting promise.”
“It is,” he agreed.
A flush rose in my cheeks and I turned away, trying to hide my reaction. It was a struggle to keep my composure around this man. He seemed to have the power to make me lose all sense of reason.
“What did your grandfather give her?“ I asked, trying to sound casual.
“A book,” he replied. “Of Elvish love poetry, of course.”
I bit back a laugh. Of course. I could just imagine the Queen’s reaction. One promised to love, the other… well, something else entirely.
“I think she was quite pleased with it,” he continued. “Though I’m not sure my grandfather appreciated her reaction.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And what was her reaction?”
“They didn’t say, but it included a sheer nightgown and a lot of blushing.” He smirked.
“Sounds like your grandfather got the better end of that deal.”
“He did,” he agreed. “I’m not sure my grandmother agrees.”
