Page 20 of To Catch a Prince

“You like her. You like her and you’re being an ass about it, like a boy of twelve rather than a man over three centuriesold.”

He signaled for another ale, after downing the one he had inhand.

Elza was glowering; a frightening sight. “Fine. Keep talking out of your ass if you wish, Vincent, but I tell you this: the womandidfreeze us all. If her intentions had been to harm us, shewould have.Treat her like an enemy and you could very well be the reason why she moves against us again. In your childish idiocy, you may doom us all, mark mywords.”

On that highly logical and infuriating note, the Princess turned on her heels. Hard to dismiss herwords.

Truth was, he was quite literally playing with fire, and he knewit.

On one hand, needing to control a murderous dragon slowly waking, on the other, having to displease an Enchantress. What choice did hehave?

Nochoice.

Oh, would the damn beast just shut up? He was trying to get drunk inpeace.

* * *

Weddings occurred in the morrow,then passed the hours of the groom; it was no secret to anyone within hearing range of the palace that the King hadn’t waited until the vows were said to bed his bride, but still, the poor man needed some time alone with his newwife.

Meanwhile, the celebrations continued throughout the land. Ale flowed like water from a fountain and musicians played at every corner of Telenar. By dusk, when the clarion resounded atop the roof to announce the start of the ball, there were perhaps ten sober men and women of age in the capital; those who’d picked the short straw and were made to keep watch over thechildren.

Incredibly, given the amount he’d drunk, Vincent was amongst them. His breath might reek of spirits, but his mind had never beenclearer.

He knew why. His fondness for books, particularly those he wasn’t meant to read, made him quite well schooled for a man ofwar.

His beast was burning the alcohol through their body. Curse the damn monster and his desire to destroy what wasn’t his toburn.

Rhey and Xandrie made an appearance, both glowing; Vincent went to greet the happy couple and wished themwell.

“Now that you’re married,” said he, “you’ll want me back at Norda soon, I’dwager.”

Please, cousin, say yes,part of him wanted to beg, while another part called him a coward. He couldn’t leave and he knew it. Not with that witch around. What if she took the Kingdom in hisabsence?

But reason and logic had tempered his ideas over the last few hours. The more he thought of it, the less he considered the witch to be a threat to anyone else. The womancouldhave killed them all. She hadn’t. End of story. The only one who had a problem with her was him. Because… well, because no had ever had such an impact on him. Not even Clarya. And for hisbeastto first wake up, and now, observe her soattentively?

It all meant something, he could tell. And fleeing now, without answers, was nothing short ofcowardice.

Yes,stay.

His dragon’s agreement made him wonder if heading to Norda immediately wasn’t in his bestinterest.

“Nonsense. There’s nine hundred men on that wall now; three hundred of them, dragons. If anything happens, we’ll leave together. For now, cousin, I want you at my side. This is the best day of my life, and you shall rejoice withme.”

So said the King, and a King must beobeyed.

Vincent considered pleading his case further, when his sense of smell caught something - a blend of spices and sweets that hit him hard. His head snapped to his right and he managed to swallow the groan that started in his entrails, fueled by all hisfire.

“Your sister is evil,” he proclaimed, talking to Xandrie, yet not detaching his gaze from the cruel creature who’d entered the room. He just couldn’t stop looking at her; if he’d tried, his beast wouldn’t have lethim.

He didn’t recognize the dress she wore, which meant that it was either a new thing of Demelza’s or one of Talia’s owndresses.

Red became her, and he hated her for it. The house of Vasili’s colors were red and gold. The King had claimed the gold as his, so Vincent had naturally started to adorn his house in red. Talia’s dress was his exact shade; his own habit was embroidered with threads of the same color. She’d look perfect next to him. She’d look perfectanywhere.

There was a slit along her thigh, revealing too much of her feminine leg; the neckline was high and gathered at her throat with a large golden jewel. Then she moved a little to her left, revealing that her back was entirely exposed. He bit his knuckle to bite back agroan.

“Aleria? Oh, she’d be just as beautiful in anythingelse.”

And, indeed, she was, now he paid attention to her. Next to Talia, her sister wore a blue dress with a plunging neckline, and Elza was in green patches of clothing that hid very little. He’d seen Demelza in that one, a few seasons past, without thinking much of it. It was, to be fair, one of his cousin’s most demure gowns. That wasn’t saying much. Demelza had a beautiful form, and didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t put it on display. His gaze ought to have stayed on Elza or Aleria. Talia, he knew, was demure, compared to the other two - compared to most females in the room. Shifters weren’t shy; everyone partied instyle.

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