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Hell, they might just dismantle the monarchy if they knew.
I rather enjoy the life to which I’ve become accustomed, though. So, for now, I’ll go along to get along.
Because nobody says no to the king.
Nobody but our brother Torben. But Torben is massively beloved, and the outpouring of gifts and presents—on top of his inheritance—will see him land on his feet. If I refused to go through with this, zero people in the land would take pity on the Bad Prince.
When Kala reaches me, I take her hands in mine. A curious jolt of electricity arcs through me, along with a foreign feeling of well-being.
Lusty dreams notwithstanding, I chalk it up to nerves. The power of suggestion. Weddings are supposed to be romantic, so it must be the music, the flowers, the happy faces, the devastatingly hot bride—all of it somehow appeals to me on some level. Even if it is a farce.
I soldier through the vows, and the celebrant declares us husband and wife. That’s it. I’m a husband. I have a wife.
I catch Kala’s eyes fluttering closed for a second. I see the intake of a deep breath.
She’s steeling herself for the kiss—our first and perhaps only kiss.
This is it. We just have to do this once and then never again.
When she opens her eyes and looks at me expectantly, I give her the slightest nod. Although my head is pounding, and I’d rather be sitting in a warm bath with some hair of the dog right now, I need her to know that I understand what she’s feeling, and that we’re in this together.
I move in and touch my lips to hers.
The contact lasts barely two seconds, but when I’m lying dead in my grave, I will still remember the perfection of Kala’s kiss. Even in this most meaningless of kisses, the warmth and softness of her lips hold promise.
I graze over her mouth, tilting my face to capture her lips. She softly gasps as my mind blocks out the claps and cheers of the assembled guests.
I tease one lip with a sweep of my tongue just before pulling back, and I feel her hands twist the lapels of my jacket.
For a moment, I feel as if she means to pull me in and deepen the kiss. But this is not that.
Her eyes flash in anger even though she’s smiling. That twist was a warning. I pushed too far with that slip of tongue and she’s letting me know she was not into it. And yet her body language to anyone watching is nothing more than a beaming, blushing bride.
How talented she is at being false.
I’d thought momentarily that Kala might not take kindly to my idea of what we should do next. But now that I see how phony she is, I feel no regret at what I’m about to suggest.
10
Kala
The words coming out of Etienne’s mouth—in front of a room full of people cheering and clapping— guts me.
“As soon as I am king, we can file for divorce and be rid of each other.”
What?
Did I hear him say what I think I heard him say?
He wants … a divorce?
My first thought? Good gods, it’s happening again. I’m being rejected by a royal yet again.
Etienne must find me truly revolting. He’s so full of himself that he wants to be king alone and with no queen.
Some deep down part of me hoped against hope that although this marriage is not a love match, it would become one.
That he can’t even see himself giving it a shot with me? This hurts on a level I’m not prepared for.
