AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If he says ‘your bodyguard’ in that husky, tortured voice, one more time, I won’t be responsible for my actions.
“You… How were you let back into the guard?” I ask. My voice is shaking with emotion.
“The king had an interview with me, a personal one, and then he issued my pardon and thanked me for saving… for my service. I told him you saved yourself, but he insisted.” I smile. How like dad to do all this, and not tell me a word. I’ll murder him later. “I thought… I wanted to see you, I couldn’t stay away. I’m so sorry. Look, I’ve decided, I’ll leave the service after this. I will be worth it. I will be worth the trouble you went to to save my life. I will be worthy of you forgiving me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Marco. You were in an impossible situation…”
“I didn’t deserve you,” he interrupts me.
“You did not just say that. Don’t you dare, Marco. Don’t you dare say that.”
“I don’t, it’s true. I can, maybe, though. I can try to. I will go back home and go to college. And make something of myself. And find out who I am outside of the army.”
“You are amazing,” I tell him.
“Don’t cry, my queen. Don’t cry.” His fingers are on my cheeks, wiping the tears—I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “I always hurt you,” he says in a broken voice, “I should go, leave you alone to…”
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know if you wanted me to…”
“I want you to,” I say and his lips part in one of his rare smiles.
I lift my mouth to his again, but he turns to the side. “We shouldn’t,” he says. “I shouldn’t.”
So, I turn around to the other guards behind him, and I say: “Ok, then, if he doesn’t want to kiss me, will one of you?”
Marco growls, pressing me so close against his chest, his fingers dig into my ribs. “Do you want me to murder every single person standing here?”
“Do you think now is the time for murder jokes?” I deadpan.
His lips tremble, then they stretch into a smile. And there he is. In spite of the haircut, the weight he’s lost… There he is. Marco.
“You always did know how to push my buttons,” he says.
“But did you know how to push mine?” I raise an eyebrow, hoping he knows what I want him to do.
He lowers his head to mine with a sharp intake of breath. He knows. He knows.
…
“This is impossible, my queen,” he says. He’s crying again, silently. His lips taste salty; he licks them, trying to wipe away the tears without moving his hands from my waist. “You know that.”
“I know nothing of the sort.”
“It is impossible, Olivia.”
“Don’t talk to me about impossible, ok? I have survived all three of my assassination attempts.”
“So have I,” he murmurs, his eyes on mine.
“And then some.”
He smiles. I know that smile. It’s his drowning smile. I hate it.
“Don’t…” my breath catches. I climb down to stand on my feet, but his arms are still around me, his body pressed against mine, knee to knee, chest to chest. “We’ll figure it out, Marco, we can do this. As long as we both want it. We will figure it out, baby.”
I feel his legs give way and he stumbles against me as I call him that. He shuts his eyes, goes pale. I hold on to him tighter, and he exhales brokenly, clutching the insides of my arms as if I’m the only thing tethering him to life.
