Page 57 of Of Brides Of Queens

“My pawns have freed you. What is that worth to you?”

She stilled then, just for a blink, then the truth of her feelings was gone. “That earned you this conversation, oh great queen.”

“Careful,” I whispered, and the walls of the conservatory rattled with my warning.

She considered their movement.

“Tell me what you want,” I ordered.

She blurted, “I need a place to stay.” Her eyes widened after, but she did not voice her shocked confusion this time either.

I arched my brows. “A place to stay.”

The princess shrugged off the confession. “My king will lock me up again. I refuse to sign his amendment. Let me stay here. Don’t nag about how I come and go, and you can ‘get to know me’.” Her tone let me know that she would roll her eyes if she had possessed them.

Or could I just not see them?

She was a delightful surprise, and as opposite as could be to Princess Bring. “How many times can I get to know you?”

She smirked. “I was confined for three years. How about one visit for each year of confinement?”

“One visit equates to the time between dusk and midnight.”

She tilted her head as if surprised I was entertaining the discussion. And why would she feel anything else when I had just taken on serious ire from her king when he learned his princess was staying here?

Yet Princess Raise had not stated how long I must let her stay, and that told me she was itchy indeed after confinement, or that I made her far more nervous than she let on.

“I suppose I can do that.”

I crossed the conservatory and extended my hand. “We are agreed.”

She lowered her chin, perhaps looking at my hand in whatever way she saw. Her hesitation to take it indicated a wariness. The undercurrents to this princess were well concealed. She wore armor in the form of bravado.

Princess Raise shoved her hand into mine, then gasped, and I barely managed to conceal my own. She had gasped at the feel of my hand in hers, but I had nearly done so for a very different reason.

Fingerless lace gloves peeked artfully out from under her suit sleeves, lending a feminine edge to her attire. It took everything in me not to rip them off her.

They were perfect.

They erased almost all of my reason.

I could not rest until they weremine.

By the time she had covered her reaction to my touch, I had covered my savage desire to rip her gloves away.

“Agreed,” she announced.

My savage desire was hidden, but my body wished to betray me. I could not ruin this relationship before the beginning. If I remained, then I would.

Without replying, I left the conservatory, and her laughter rang in my ears.

I would get those lace gloves.

I would get them.

I would.

Chapter Twelve

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