Page 79 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“I’m fine.” His voice sounded husky, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Your Highness, I don’t have time to notice the maids. It’s all I can do to keep up with your daughter.”

The king smiled. “Yes, well, you are one who loves a challenge. I suppose a girl who couldn’t match your intelligence, swordsmanship, and stubbornness wouldn’t be able to catch your eye.”

Tal shot a look at Charis, who was busy trying to decide if the king was being sly or simply making conversation, and said, “I . . . um . . .”

Father laughed again, and Charis winced at the frail, wheezy sound of his breathing. “Perhaps if you haven’t found someone who intrigues you, Ilsa and I can get to know some of the maids and introduce you. We’ve had some luck setting up successful dates between some of the younger staff. Unless, of course, there’s someone who already takes up your thoughts.”

Twin spots of color burned on Tal’s sun-kissed cheeks. “I don’t . . . that is to say . . . I’m really not sure I should discuss my thoughts here.”

“Oh, don’t worry about my daughter’s reaction.” Father reached for a bite of cheese. “Charis understands the appeal of a handsome stable boy, so surely she would understand if we found a maid or perhaps a page for you.”

Charis rolled her eyes. “No, Charis does not understand the appeal of a handsome stable boy. Honestly, Father, what has gotten into you?”

Tal looked in danger of choking again, and hastily focused on Hildy as if the kitten required his undivided attention.

The king patted Charis’s knee. “One day soon, you’ll meet someone who makes you want to sneak out just to steal a few minutes alone with him.”

For an instant, Charis thought of the southern bluff, and the feeling of Tal’s arms around her as she pressed her face to his neck, and her cheeks heated as if she’d leaned too close to a roaring fire.

“What’s this?” The king’s voice positively sparkled. “My sweet Charis is blushing? Are you already sneaking out to meet a young man? Please tell me it isn’t that oafish Everly boy.”

Tal’s head shot up, and he locked eyes with Charis. For a moment, Charis thought he’d read her thoughts and was remembering the bluff as well. But then he looked pained, and the truth hit.

The betrothal.

Charis still hadn’t told Father the terms of the peace treaty. He’d been delighted to learn that she’d brokered a stop to the eighteen-year war, and she’d been scarce on the details. It was enough to see his pride in her as he learned that his beloved north would finally be free of bloodshed again. If she hadn’t wanted his worry, his grief, over his only daughter being shackled to a Montevallian for the rest of her life, condemned to the kind of loveless marriage he had, was that so bad? He could spend his remaining months proud of her, relieved for his kingdom, and never know the pain she carried.

“Who is he?” the king asked as he brushed a frail hand against her heated cheek.

She made herself smile like she hadn’t a care in the world and thought of Tal. “He’s funny, interesting, sincere, honest, and better at swordsmanship than I am, though I’d rather die than admit it to him.”

“Well, now.” The king sat up a little straighter. “He sounds a sight better than the Everly boy already.”

“He puts the Everly boy to shame in every way,” Charis said softly, her heart aching as Tal met her gaze, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t interpret. Willing Tal to see that the topic of the betrothal was off-limits, Charis said briskly, “I’ve never heard the story of how Tal came to be in your service.” She leaned toward the table and scooped up a sugared apple slice.

The king eyed Charis for a moment and then said quietly, “All right, we’ll change the subject. But, Charis . . .” He waited until she met his gaze. “If this boy doesn’t treat you with the utmost honor and respect, then he isn’t worth a single minute of your time. And if he doesn’t challenge you, you’ll grow to despise him. If he doesn’t see past your walls, he won’t make the effort you need to help you connect to the parts of yourself you keep secret. You make sure of that before you take things any further.”

Charis kissed his cheek and leaned against his shoulder while Tal told a very short story about Montevallian soldiers invading his village and days of trekking south on foot until he came to Arborlay.

“There were a few others from various villages in the north who were traveling south too. I joined up with them, and when we arrived at the refugee center, Orayn and several others helped everyone find jobs. I was lucky enough to get a job with the king.” Tal smiled warmly at Father. Charis didn’t have the heart to ask him if any of his family had survived the invasion of his village.

Later, as Charis sat in front of her vanity removing her hairpins and braiding her hair for the night, she said, “So, going to let Father set you up with a chambermaid?”

Tal smirked. “Somehow I don’t think any of them would be enough to take over what’s already in my thoughts. Are you going to tell me about your mysterious, charming friend?”

Charis raised one dainty eyebrow. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar,” he said as he came to stand behind her and took her thick hair into his hands. “I’ll do it.” He began separating her curls into three sections.

“How dare you call me a liar?” Laughter sparkled in her voice.

He bent close and locked eyes with her in the mirror. “Am I wrong?”

His breath tickled her ear, and she shivered, though she was far from cold. When she didn’t answer, he smiled as if he was a cat who’d caught a mouse and straightened so he could continue braiding her hair.

After a moment, Charis said quietly, “Thank you for not telling Father about the betrothal. I want to spare him that pain.”

Tal’s eyes darkened, and he looked down at his hands as he worked with her hair. After a moment, he said, “I hope this is all right to say, but I love your father, too, Charis.”

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