Page 106 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

She frowned. “Why not?”

He blew out a breath and looked at the sea again before saying quietly, “Because he’s the man who gets to marry the girl I love.”

“Oh.” She stared at him in surprise as something delicate and almost painful unfurled within her.

Silence fell between them, thick as sea mist, and she couldn’t figure out how to break it. Her thoughts skipped from one useless thing to another, but all she could feel was the way her heart beat, fast and eager, as heat crept into her cheeks.

He squared his shoulders. “I apologize, Your Highness. I overstepped. I’m not going to leave you alone and unprotected out here, but I will move back and leave you to your thoughts.” Turning, he began moving away from the hilltop.

“Wait.”

He paused, his back to her, and she said the first honest thing she could think of that would make him stay.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

The words, held inside for so long, chained by her forced smiles and calm assurances that she was ready to do what was best for the kingdom, spilled from her lips, bitter as wine. He turned, something burning in his eyes, and the rest of the truth rushed free.

“I tell everyone it doesn’t matter. That a princess doesn’t get to choose, but that’s not true. I did choose. I chose Calera, and I won’t go back on that choice. But every day”—she swallowed hard and made herself finish, though her voice trembled—“every single day, I wish I could tear up the treaty and be free to find someone who will love me for who I am and not for my title.”

He took three steps toward her and stopped an arm’s length away. “You deserve to be loved, Charis.” Her name was a prayer he whispered, reverent and hushed. “You deserve to have someone who doesn’t care about the throne half as much as he cares about you.”

Her heart was thunder, her blood lightning, as she took a step toward him. “I wish I could have that.”

“You already do.” He shifted, a slight movement that brought them closer together. Close enough that she could sense the rise and fall of his chest and feel the warmth of his body. She wanted to lean her cheek against his chest and let the rhythm of his heart soothe her own. She wanted to feel his hands in her hair and his lips on her skin. She wanted him.

Which would be foolish. Incredibly, exponentially foolish.

There were a hundred reasons why she couldn’t give in to such a dangerous impulse, and it was his fault that she was having trouble remembering any of them. His fault, with his bossiness, his sense of humor, and his steady belief in her. His dark eyes that met hers across a room and communicated entire conversations with a single look. The way he made the breath catch in the back of her throat when she caught him watching her as though he alone could truly see her.

“Charis?” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. His movements were slow. Careful. Giving her plenty of opportunity to step back or order him to stop.

She should absolutely order him to stop.

He leaned closer, his eyes searching hers.

“I don’t feel like talking anymore.” She’d meant the words to be firm. An unmistakable signal that he should leave her alone. Instead, her voice was soft and breathless, and her traitorous body swayed toward his.

“What do you feel like doing?” His voice was just as breathless as hers.

Her eyes held his, and warmth spilled into her veins, racing toward her fingertips with a delicious tingle. Before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

For an instant, they stood there, lips barely touching, their bodies utterly still. And then his hands slid down her back and pulled her against his chest as he tilted his head and kissed her for real.

His lips were as gentle as his touch, but Charis didn’t want gentle. She wanted the pain inside to quiet. The fire to slink into its corner. The fear to disintegrate. She wanted to be so consumed with Tal that she could think of nothing else.

Fisting a hand into the front of his tunic, she took control of the kiss. Her mouth was a fierce demand for absolute submission, but he wouldn’t give it. Instead, he met her demand with a fierceness of his own.

A flicker of light blazed to life within her as she slid her hands into his hair and let herself be kissed as if he meant it.

This was the Tal who fought her as an equal in their weapons practice. The Tal who never held back because she was the princess.

He didn’t hold back now.

The heat in her veins pooled in her stomach, and her knees went weak. She leaned against him, and he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her as though she were made of glass even as he kissed her as if he meant to conquer the challenge she presented.

When he lifted his face, his eyes searched hers, but she had no words she could give him. Instead, she leaned against his chest, closed her eyes, and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

He held her close, his arms securely around her while his cheek rested on the crown of her head. She wished the world would stop rushing forward and let her keep this one perfect moment. Let her have this one perfect boy, who couldn’t help her save Calera, but who might just help her save herself.

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