Page 113 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

She took his offered hand, and he swept her into his arms. They swayed and spun to the ticking of the clock and the distant lilt of music they could barely hear. She laughed as he dipped her low and then brought her up against his chest, her hand sheltered in his as the music faded.

Before he could release her, she said, “I love you, Tal.”

“Charis,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to regret not telling you the truth. I don’t want to waste a single moment of the time we have left together.”

This was it. No tomorrows. No guarantees. Only this one moment.

She pressed her lips to his.

He made a noise in the back of his throat and dragged her closer, sliding his hands up her back. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and let the heat that swirled through her light her on fire.

It was agony. It was magic. It was a lifetime of yearning, of wishes she’d never dared voice, and she couldn’t bear to stop.

She kissed him until the feeling of his lips was in her blood, until the taste of him was a secret tucked away in the corner of her heart. Until she could no longer tell where she ended and he began.

He broke away, his breathing ragged. “Charis, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” She was a breath away from his lips, and everything within her ached to close the distance between them and never let him go.

There was a sharp knock at the door, and then Vellis entered. “Your Highness, Lady Channing has arrived.”

Forty-One

CHARIS PULLED AWAY from Tal, all thoughts of romance disappearing as she looked to Vellis.

“Should I send her to you?” Vellis asked. If she thought it strange to walk in on the princess embracing her bodyguard, her face betrayed nothing.

Charis considered the idea of speaking with Lady Channing privately. It would maintain the woman’s reputation should this turn out to be an innocent misunderstanding. But if indeed Lady Channing was the traitor, there was at least one other person who needed to be present for the conversation, and Charis could hardly summon the queen away from the most important festival of the year to accuse her friend of treason unless she was absolutely sure.

No, it was better to issue an invitation rather than a summons. It was hardly out of the ordinary for Lady Channing to be asked to spend time with the royal family during a social engagement, though enjoying a private conversation at the buffet table was a far cry from being welcomed onto the royal platform.

“Please invite Lady Channing to join the royal family on the ballroom dais. Thank you, Vellis.” A hard, bold light burned in Charis as she considered what she’d say to Lady Channing. In moments, the nightmare that had started the night of the ambassadors’ ball could be finished. Charis had found a way to end the war, to use the enemy prince to stop the threat toward Calera’s ships, and now if she exposed the traitor who’d tried to destroy the Willowthorns, the host of nearly insurmountable obstacles that had plagued Charis would be resolved.

As the woman left, Charis turned to Tal. “I know we aren’t finished with our conversation, but—”

“It can wait.” His eyes were bright with the kind of intensity that never failed to flush her skin with heat. “Let’s go catch a traitor.”

Charis found Mother seated in the Farragins’ most comfortable chair on a dais erected in the center of the eastern wall just for this occasion. She looked resplendent in a gown the color of the midnight sea. Tiny diamonds were sewn into the fabric to mimic the shine of starlight, and she wore a silver crown with glowing sapphires worked into the filigree to represent the blue light of the sister moons.

Tal stuck close to Charis, his gaze watchful as they ascended the stairs and greeted the queen. Reuben and Elsbet took up their stations at the base of the stairs, while Vellis and Gaylle hovered nearby, eyes scraping over the crowd of dancers who whirled around the floor to the lively tune the orchestra was playing.

“Your Majesty.” Charis bowed. A quick glance showed Lady Channing approaching the dais, a small smile on her face as she found the princess’s gaze.

“You’ve invited a guest onto the platform?” Mother assessed Charis with a swift look.

“I thought we could have a conversation.”

Mother’s cold, remote expression remained intact, but her chin lifted. It was one thing to spend time talking with a member of the nobility during a social event. It was another to invite someone onto the dais. That kind of preferential treatment would be torn apart in drawing rooms across the city for weeks.

“I trust you have a good reason for this.”

“I believe I do.” Charis turned as Lady Channing mounted the steps and moved toward them.

“Your Majesty. Your Highness.” Lady Channing bowed to each in turn. “I’m most honored to be invited onto the dais.”

“The honor is ours,” the queen said. “You were most helpful to my daughter while I was unwell.”

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