Page 102 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

She smiled sadly at him. “Months and months of ice and snow, but after that—”

“After that, we move forward into what comes next.” His voice was steady. “The only way you can get rid of me is to send me away. I’m not leaving you.”

His dark eyes found hers and held. Heat that had nothing to do with the roaring fire unfurled within and spread through her veins, like honeyed sunshine.

“You won’t leave?” she whispered.

“I won’t leave.”

He gathered her close and held her until the worries chasing themselves in circles around her mind settled and all that remained was the crackle of the flames, the scent of rich cocoa, and the warmth of his chest against her cheek.

Thirty-Seven

CHARIS LOST HER breakfast the morning of King Alaric’s arrival.

When she stepped out of the bath chamber, her teeth brushed and her stomach empty, Mrs. Sykes clucked her tongue sympathetically and said, “Stomach upset. Probably going around. Expect you’ll start up next.” She looked at Tal.

Tal shook his head, though he looked just as queasy as Charis felt.

Mrs. Sykes frowned at them both. “I have half a mind to message the queen and have her tell you both to go back to bed.”

“We’ll be fine,” Charis said, though she had no confidence that she was speaking the truth. “I’ll start with the blue ombré gown. And I’ll need the silver sheath for my sword. Remember, I have three outfit changes today.”

“Oh yes.” The older woman fluttered happily as she reached for the blue gown. “Won’t you make a memorable first impression on your soon-to-be husband? He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

That wasn’t a comforting thought.

“What hairstyle are we doing?” Mrs. Sykes asked as if she had more than three at her disposal.

“I’ll do her hair,” Tal said. His eyes found Charis’s and held.

“Well, that’s highly unusual.” Mrs. Sykes looked flustered.

“He’ll be doing metal sculptures around my hair. To match my dress.” Charis raised her brows at Tal to prod him into helping her spare the woman’s feelings.

“Yes,” he said. “She’s starting a new trend. We want her guests to know exactly with whom they’re dealing.”

“Just so.” Mrs. Sykes nodded as she finished setting out the petticoat, corset, stockings, and shoes that went with the blue ombré. “Our princess is like a delectable pastry laced with the prettiest poison imaginable. They’ll be lulled by her beauty and forget to be careful how big a bite they try to take.” She sounded like a proud grandmother.

Once Charis was dressed, she sat at her vanity and waited while Mrs. Sykes left with the laundry, and Tal came out of his room wearing his blue-and-silver uniform. He stood behind her and looked in the mirror.

“She’s right.” He sounded as though someone had kicked his favorite cat. “He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

She clutched her hands in her lap and tried to breathe slowly. He bent to her ear, still holding her gaze in the mirror. “I won’t take my eyes off you either. If you need me, just look for me. I’ll be there.”

He combed lightly through her curls with his fingers, and she said, “It’s Vahn.”

His hands stilled.

“That’s the one they brought. Not fussy Percival. No teacup to break.” She tried to smile but failed.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders, warm and comforting. “Every man has a favorite teacup. You just have to figure out the source of Vahn’s pride. Once you know that, you know how to break him.”

Her lips lifted slowly, and fire began burning in her belly. “I happen to be particularly skilled at breaking people.”

“That’s my princess. Now let’s make sure everyone who looks at you knows it.”

An hour later, Charis stopped outside the queen’s drawing room, Tal by her side looking pale and miserable but resolute. For once the queen had decided not to have Charis arrive early to greet their guests, who’d already been received by the council and treated to a sumptuous breakfast. This time, Charis needed a grand entrance. A first impression that would stick.

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