AllFreeNovel
Share Us
More servants appeared, carrying plates and covered dishes, which were placed on the table, and once they’d gone Zabrina shot him a questioning look. ‘You have dismissed the rest of the staff?’
He shrugged. ‘The train carriage is relatively small, ma’am, and I suspected you would feel more relaxed if you were not being observed by your new subjects. Does my action not meet with Your Royal Highness’s approval, for I can immediately rescind it if you would prefer?’
‘No, no. That all sounds perfectly...reasonable.’ She risked a glance into those pewter eyes and was immediately beguiled by their smokiness. ‘Shall we sit?’
‘If you don’t mind, I would prefer to stand. And after I have sampled each dish, I will serve you.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course,’ said Zabrina hastily, terrified that she had broken some unknown rule of food-taster’s etiquette. ‘Thank you.’
Roman watched as she rose from her position on the sofa and slid onto one of the dining chairs, but as she shook out her napkin and placed it on her lap he thought she looked uncomfortable. As well she might, he thought grimly. She had casually invited him to sit opposite her—as if he were her equal! His mouth hardened. Was this how she regularly conducted herself when dealing with servants of the opposite sex—or with men in general? Were they unsuitably relaxed about such matters as correct social distancing, back at her palace in Albastase?
Briefly, he wondered if his judgment of her was unnecessarily harsh. He knew he possessed certain strong views about women and he knew, too, their source. But being aware of his own prejudices didn’t mean he was going to blind himself to his future bride’s obvious deficiencies!
He took his fork and ate some wild rice studded with pomegranates and pine nuts, and afterwards heaped a small amount on her golden plate, thinking that her tiny frame could surely not accommodate a larger portion than that.
He watched as she put a few grains into her mouth and found himself fascinated by the movement of her mouth as she chewed. It would be no hardship to kiss those soft lips, he thought, with a sudden fierce rush of desire, for he had not been intimate with a woman for well over a year, despite the many invitations which had come his way during his last royal tour. But he had resisted any such overtures, no matter how tempting they had been, aware that it would be unfair to the woman he was soon to marry if he had indulged in any pleasures of the flesh so close to their wedding.
But as a result, his sexual appetite was highly honed and keener than he could ever recall and he seemed to be growing harder by the second.
He cleared his throat. ‘A little more, Your Royal Highness?’
‘No, no. That was plenty.’ She surveyed the selection of platters before her with a rueful smile. ‘Especially as there appear to be several other courses to follow.’
He allowed himself a brief smile. ‘Indeed there are.’
She lifted her head to look at him and, in the flicker of the candlelight, he was aware of feathery shadows on her honeyed skin, cast by her long lashes. ‘Look, why don’t you sit down for the rest of the meal, Constantin?’ she said. ‘It’s hurting my neck to have to look up at you.’
Roman hesitated, but not for long, because it was a temptation too powerful to resist. It was a break with protocol, that much was true, but since he was planning to surprise her by revealing his identity before too long—and festooning her with a king’s ransom in jewels—surely it wasn’t too heinous a crime. Carefully, he removed his sword and put it within reach, before lowering his frame into the seat opposite hers. Then he forced himself to try and concentrate on the food he was tasting, rather than thinking how much he would give to free that magnificent mane of hair from its constricting ponytail and see what it looked like when it was tumbling down over her shoulders. But he comforted himself with the knowledge that it would not be too long before she was in his arms and in his bed. A few short weeks until their wedding and they could enjoy the legal consummation of their royal union. And if in the meantime, fuelled by his fierce hunger for her, that time passed with unendurable slowness, well, that wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? For wiser men than he had written that deprivation was a sure-fire guarantee of pleasure.
He forced himself to return his attention to the meal. Thin slivers of cold fish came next, accompanied by a leafy salad, soft with buttery avocado. She ate this with a little more interest and Roman experienced a small pang of compassion as, gradually, he saw her narrow shoulders relax and some of the tension leave her face and her body.
‘You haven’t eaten in a while,’ he observed.
She looked up from her plate, her eyes narrowed and wary. ‘How can you possibly know that? Are you a mind-reader or somet
hing?’
‘That is one gift I suspect would be a double-edged sword,’ he said drily. ‘No, it’s simply instinct. In the past I have commanded an army and can always recognise the signs when the men are hungry.’
‘Oh?’
He shrugged, and as she continued to look at him curiously, he elaborated. ‘Food is a necessity. A fuel, not a luxury, Your Royal Highness—although women often regard it as the enemy. And you need to eat. You’re slim enough not to have to diet to get into your wedding dress and your brain and body need nourishment, especially when you consider what lies ahead.’
She put her fork down and he could see her lips pressing in on themselves. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll skip the lecture,’ she said. ‘Though when I want advice on dieting or nutrition, I’ll be sure to come to you.’
‘Forgive me for my presumption.’
She bit down on her lip, as if she was itching to say something but trying very hard to hold her words back.
Which made Roman curious. Curious enough to let the silence between them grow into something very real and somehow brittle. He could feel a renewed tension in the air. He could see the distress clouding her forest-green eyes and all of a sudden the words came sliding from her mouth, even though he had not prompted them. Words he had not been expecting to hear, delivered with soft venom, as if she were excising a painful wound and needed all the poison to spill out before she could be healed.
‘But what if you have no appetite?’ she questioned in a low voice. ‘What if you have barely been able to face food for days, because of the fate which awaits you?’
‘To which fate do you refer, Your Royal Highness?’ he questioned steadily. ‘Surely your destiny is one which any princess would envy. Are you not about to become queen of one of the richest lands in the world and to marry its most powerful king?’
‘Yes! Yes, I am,’ she flared, putting her fork down with a clatter as she jumped to her feet. ‘But unfortunately, that’s the problem.’
‘Problem?’ he probed, his brow furrowed with confusion.
