Page 43 of A True King

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Cain wanders off again. I’m beginning to think that Mia is more upset than I previously thought. We’d never even fought up until she disappeared a month ago. Now, it’s like we can’t see eye to eye on anything. I had long thought she might be the one. Father suspects we are more than boss and employee, and he’s warned me not to get involved with staff. But he doesn’t understand, it may have started as a forbidden romance between a prince and his personal secretary, but it is no longer like that. She’s my equal in so many ways.

I stare out the window, remembering her first day on the job.

I press the intercom on my phone. “Ms. Edgewater? Can you please come in here?”

I don’t need her in here. But I want her in here. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I interviewed her two weeks ago. The way she smelled of orange blossoms. The way her hips swayed as she walked. The perfect shape of her breasts as she leaned forward to pick up a letter. She’s beautiful. And then she spoke, and that changed everything. I had met my fair share of beauties, but it was seldom that I met someone who could match me intellectually. And I had never had both in one package before, combined with humility and kindness. My last two girlfriends were princesses. They were beautiful, but also vain, and arrogant, and demanding. Mia was nothing of the sort. She had an air of innocence to her and yet she seemed perfectly in control and strong all at the same time. She was a collage of dichotomies. And somehow, she was perfect.

I watch as she enters. Today’s outfit is a simple black dress. The neckline isn’t inappropriate at all, but nonetheless, as she leans down to take her seat, I’m gifted with a glimpse of her chest. I clear my throat and try to remember the ridiculous reason I called her in here. Ah, yes.

“Ms. Edgewater—”

“Your Highness, really, please call me Mia,” she says as she bites her lip nervously. She’d asked to be called Mia on her first day of work. It’s not typical of us to call our staff by their first names. But I secretly loved that she wanted to skip the formalities, because so did I.

“Well, then, Mia,” I say, dragging out her name, “call me Christian.”

Her eyes widen. No one calls me this except my family and Tessa, but only because she was my nanny for so many years.

“A-alright, C-Christian,” she stammers. Her cheeks turn pink. I love how she squirms in her seat. I’ve ruffled her feathers and I quite enjoyed it.

“Let’s discuss your work after hours this week.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, and I can see my innuendo has unnerved her.

“My…after work hours?”

“Yes.” I pause, drawing out my torture a bit longer. “We have an evening meeting and a gala event this week, do we not?”

I can see her visibly relax as she opens a tablet to a calendar.

“Yes, of course, sir.”

Sir? Now, that I can live with. I grin and watch as her pink cheeks turn a delicious shade of red.

“I mean, Christian,” she quickly tries to recover.

I steeple my fingers in front of me on my desk. “I’ll need a date to the gala event.”

If she was flustered before, she is beside herself now. Her right leg bounces nervously as she chews on her bottom lip. Her blush has crept down her neck.

“I…uh, do you want me to call someone?” she asks.

Oh, I can’t even resist this.

“Call who?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“I…mean, did you want to invite someone in particular?”

Time to go in for the kill. “No. It’s too much of a hassle. Are you free? It would just make things easier if you accompanied me,” I state.

Her entire body stills. “Me?”

I nod. “You.”

“But…I…don’t have anything to wear?” she states, her face contorting in confusion.

I press a line on my phone that goes to the royal outfitter and put it on speaker. “Ms. Turner?”

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