Page 82 of Falling Princess

“And I to you. It’s the circumstances we’re stuck with. There’s no use pouting about it.”

He glanced at me sidelong. “You’re very practical.”

It’s easy to be pragmatic when the one keeping you from hooking up with other people is the person you’d like to hook up with, and you’re a similar impediment. I didn’t say this, of course. I licked my spoon, then set about washing the dishes with canteen water and a rag.

We lay next to one another and looked up at the stars. Pointing out constellations. Auralia’s bow. The Hero’s sword. The mordecam and the Great Dragon.

At some point during the night, I inched my bedroll closer to Lorcan’s and curled up against his back with my face tucked against the nape of his neck. His hair tickled my forehead. He smelled comfortingly of campfire smoke and pine and wind and warmth. Wild. Free. All the things I will never have a chance to be.

BURN

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

For reasons unknown to me, we were to leave Auralia by boat this time, instead of private aircraft.

I wonder what they think would happen if they were to share this vital piece of security information with me in advance. Would I accidentally blab it to an outsider while in my cups? Joke’s on them—I don’t associate with anyone outside of our tiny clique, and I rarely get drunk.

Considering my princess fail with the Sentinel legs this summer, and my lapse at the party last winter, I’m hardly in a position to press the point.

“You’ll study hard,” my father said half-imploring, half-admonishing. He was pleased with Lorcan’s report of my so-called success at the Sky Shrine. I suspect my knight embellished my supposed achievements. Kind of him, until next summer, when I’ll fail to live up to the standard set this year, and likely kill myself trying.

At least this miserable existence will be over.

A pang in my heart reminds me that I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to live under a glass jar. I’d give anything to have a life like the few days I spent with Lorcan traveling to Mount Astra.

“I have signed off on your botany course conditional on your earning continued good grades,” Rohan continued.

When he unexpectedly enfolded me in a hug, tears prickled my eyes. I can’t recall the last time he embraced me instead of patting my hand. Apart from The Naked Incident on Mount Astra, my entire summer passed with virtually no human contact. Only the whisper of my maids’ fingers on my clothes and hair, or one of the grooms helping me down from my horse.

No wonder my head is such a mess where Lorcan’s concerned.

Intellectually, I know he only did it to keep me alive. He doesn’t have much choice other than to put up with me. Lorcan stands to lose everything—his scholarship, his job, even his life, if I can’t control my stupid, inappropriate emotions, which edged further toward the romantic with each passing day.

I feel it too.

I squeezed my eyes closed against the memory. If he truly wanted me, there couldn’t have been a better time to make a move than when we were on the road together for an entire week. He didn’t. I would never pretend that I’m some siren, but I doubt there are many heterosexual twenty-one-year-old men who could lie next to a naked woman for hours without some kind of physical reaction, even if she was a human popsicle at the time. He doesn’t want me, and that’s that.

I read too much into what he said last spring.

Meeting up with Raina, Bashir and Kenton on the journey through the pass was a welcome relief. Kenton announced, out of nowhere, that he’d given up eating meat, and was considering going full vegan. As if to make Lorcan’s life as our unofficial chef as difficult as possible, Bashir promptly announced that he was on a paleo diet. Raina scolded them for chasing ridiculous fads and said that if they wanted to eat healthily, they should adopt a Mediterranean diet while away from home. Neither man was persuaded, although Bashir questioned her about it for the next quarter-hour.

Kenton and Lorcan’s dislike of one another hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

We settled into our private cabins on the boat. With armed pirates roaming this part of the ocean, I can’t fathom why we took this risk. I supposed getting shot out of the air wasn’t any safer.

I watched my country’s skyline disappear into the distance from the enclosed upper deck. I took out the list of books that are coming with the six of us on this journey. My gift to Royals University, and to the world.

It felt insignificant.

“What’s this?”

Lorcan slid into the bench seat across from me. His sleeves were pushed up to the elbow. His skin was a warm brown from the summer sun, the hairs bleached pale blond. Veins stood out on his hand and wrist. His hair, streaked almost as light as mine in places, had been trimmed, though it still flopped over his left eye.

“A ledger of artifacts.” I explained the contents of the collection we were transporting. No one else was in the cabin with us. Waves kicked up. The captain’s voice came over a loudspeaker, announcing that there would be choppy weather for a bit.

A large swell sent my book sliding across the table. I grabbed for it. My hand landed on Lorcan’s, the contact jolting through me. He didn’t move away.

Lorcan’s callused thumb traced the back of mine. Sparks singed through my veins. The ship lurched and rolled. He neither met my gaze nor removed his hand, so I opened my fingers a little, pushing into the spaces between. Exquisitely aware of the contact.

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