Page 67 of Realm of Thieves

He blinks. “Perhaps,” he allows. “But even if you do bring her back onboard with her aunt, even if she keeps working for House Kolbeck…what are you going to do about the woman you’re betrothed to?”

I close my eyes, resentment bubbling up inside me like acid.

“I am not betrothed to anyone,” I tell him adamantly. “That is just a dream of my father’s. I haven’t agreed to it.”

“That’s because you don’t need to,” he says. “Because it’s the only thing your father has ever asked of you that you’re able to give.”

Fuck.

“The princess and I don’t even know each other,” I tell him. “We’ve never met.”

“You know that doesn’t matter when it comes to the houses. That’s why I’m grateful as the blazes that I’m not rich. I can marry whomever I please and turn down as many ladies as I like,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Vidar is the true heir,” I say. “He’s the one who will be married off. My father thinks an alliance between us and Altus Dugrell is the way forward, but let the royal houses figure this one out. We’re not royals; why should the pressure fall on us?”

He just gives me a steady look. We’ve discussed this many times. The thing is, even though my father has some idea that I’ll get married to Princess Frida of Altus Dugrell, there’s never been any commitment on either side. I don’t think about her, I don’t think about the marriage. It’s not going to happen no matter how much pressure my father puts on me.

Though I guess at one point I might have been more likely to follow through.

All of that has changed since I met Brynla.

I stare at her as she stands at the bow, her lavender hair blowing in the breeze of her homeland, Lemi at her side. I don’t want a princess. I want a thief.

“Your happiness is my happiness, boy,” Toombs says, putting his hand back on the wheel. “I hope beyond hope you get exactly what you want. You deserve it.”

I give him a grateful smile, though it’s hard to ignore the tension in my chest now. So much at fucking stake.

“I’ll go wake up the crew,” I tell him.

Chapter 19

Brynla

I don’t get embarrassed veryoften, but the two most mortifying times have both involved Andor—him seeing me naked after the bath, and learning that I kissed him while I was drunk.

I could crawl under a rock. The moment he told me what I did last night, some memories came back. I remember the strange pull I felt toward him, the urge to be incredibly shameless, to use the alcohol as fuel to test the waters. I didn’t even know those were waters I truly wanted tested, and yet I was pulling out all my cards and he was doing his best to hold back.

He acted like a gentleman when that wasn’t what I wanted from him at all. I can’t be all that upset about it—perhaps I would have felt used and vulnerable otherwise.

I do remember the kiss, though.

I remember the low moan he gave, the slight tremble of his lips against mine, the easy yet hungry slide of his tongue. I believe he was joking when he told me it was the best kiss of his life, but even half-remembered, it was the best kiss of mine.

And then I remember the very hard, thick, and daunting feel ofhis cock when he pressed my palm against it, the fire that burned in his eyes when he asked if this felt like he didn’t want me, and I immediately feel my pulse quicken, the heat flashing between my legs.

Fuck.

I splash cold water over my face again and lean over the washbasin for a moment, trying to compose myself. My physical wants and desires are going to have to go ignored for now. I have to stay focused on the task at hand. We’re going to the Dark City today. We’re going home. And I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’ll need to prepare for each and every scenario.

There’s a knock at the latrine’s door. “Brynla?”

It’s Andor.

I give myself one last look in the rusted, cloudy mirror hanging above the washbasin, glad that I can’t see my face all that well, and then take in a deep breath, opening the door.

His brows are furrowed, wrinkling his forehead and giving him a puppy-dog look. What a rotten time to start being so sexually attracted to him. “Are you all right?”

I nod. “Just getting nervous.”

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