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“What fun is a crown if I can’t enjoy the simple pleasures of life?” I twisted to look up at his shadowed face. “Just think about it? I visit you in the dorms now at the academy, but it might be fun to live together.”
He grabbed my hand. “We lived together at the castle. Been living together for years, August.”
“But a place of our own? I have so many plans for us, Christine. I want to buy a boat. We could travel the world.”
I grinned. “That would be nice. You know how much I love the ocean.”
“It’s always been just us, love. Every plan I’ve ever made has included you. I want to fight to keep you.”
I cleared my throat, my eyes misting. This was all I’d ever wanted. “You can keep me, August.”
“Promise? Don’t ever leave me, Christine. I’m an asshole to ask you this, but I’m not too proud to beg. You’re the only person who…who has ever…”
I sat up and cupped his cheek. “Who has ever what?”
He smiled at me and leaned closer. “Who ever loved me.”
We were just an inch apart, his lips so close to mine I could practically taste them. “Sir?” Leo said. We pulled apart. I was so consumed with August that I hadn’t heard Leo approaching. “Your ten minutes are up.”
August groaned. “Impeccable timing, as always.”
We got up and August helped me back into my shoes.
And as we walked back to the ballroom, I allowed the faintest sliver of hope to warm my chest.
Maybe I could keep August.
Chapter Three
I sat at my vanity, running my brush through my long blonde hair. I stared at my reflection—specifically the spark in my eyes. August’s words were running on repeat in my mind.
I want to keep you.
Didn’t he know? I’d stay with him forever.
I still felt something nagging at my conscience. Something sinister was twisting my excitement.
You’re the only person who’s ever loved me.
At the time, it had seemed like a precious declaration. I was proud to love August, but now that I’d had time to ruminate over it, his words made me sad.
Did August only want me because I loved him? It was no secret that his parents had not been affectionate to him throughout our childhood. They were trying to mold a forceful leader, and his father in particular didn’t believe in coddling anyone. Queen Isabelle was protective of her son and would go to the ends of the earth for him, but had she ever held him when he cried? Did she ever talk to him about life?
My mother was extremely affectionate with me when she could be. My father was the other end of the spectrum, a man determined to beat me into submission. I wasn’t sure if it was genetics or loss that made me still love him, even in death, but I did. His cruelty was dimmed in my memory the day he died, but I had a feeling resentment would creep back up one of these days, when the grief had faded into something more manageable and I was able to process all the terrible things he’d done to my mother and me.
I’d only witnessed the king’s brutality a handful of times. He was especially careful to hide it from the public because he didn’t want a scandal. But I knew he was a wicked man. It showed in his policies and the careless way he sacrificed his people for his own good. August didn’t have a father he could look up to or trust. He had a ruthless king that ordered him about.
I didn’t want to be desired because I cared for August. There was no one else who saw him the way I did. I wanted him to love me back with every fiber of his being. But I wasn’t sure if he was capable of that. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if the path he was on would allow it.
And more so, my mind kept drifting to Atticus. I wasn’t sure if I could return his feelings, but we had grown closer. He was charming, flirtatious, and he made me the center of his whole world. It was flattering and mirrored my relationship with August in a way that made me nauseated. If I allowed myself to, I could let Atticus love me because it felt nice. But right now, I was incapable of sorting through all of my feelings. Was it enough if only one person in a relationship was loved? Could anything be sustained with half a heart?
It was confusing.
A knock on the door drew me out of my thoughts, and I got up to answer it. My long, flowing robe was wrapped tight around my body, and my face was bare. I half expected it to be August or maybe even Atticus on the other side of the door, but was surprised to find Leo there.
He had dark circles under his eyes, a symptom from a long day of following after August. He still wore his royal guard uniform, the bright red a stark contrast against the dark hallway. His hair was messed up, as if he’d spent the last hour running his fingers through it. Leo was older than me, but we shared a unique bond. Even though his job forced him to stick to the shadows, we still had private moments of just us, where he brought me little treats and we chatted about our day. He was wise and a shoulder to lean on. We got along very well.
I felt embarrassed about what he’d witnessed in the library. August had never been so brazen, and knowing Leo saw me in such a vulnerable way made my heart race.
