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“We need to get another chair in here.”
Chevalier chuckled and turned the page of his book, his arm flexing against my waist as he did so. When I told him the day was his, I didn’t think he’d insist on me sitting on his lap while we read our respective books. He didn’t want me to sit on the floor, he wouldn’t sit on the floor, and he didn’t want to go out to the main library. So, there I was, on his lap with his arm around my waist, losing my focus every time he turned a page. And he was a fast reader.
“You don’t like this arrangement?” he asked, amused.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” I replied, keeping my eyes on my book and ignoring the warmth in my cheeks. “I just can’t concentrate, and I’m a little worried about someone walking in and seeing us like this.”
He marked his place and snapped his book shut, and then he took mine and did the same. I bit my lip nervously and stared at my empty hands, wondering if he was about to destroy me with kisses again. Not that I would mind, but what he did earlier was really intense, and now that my head was clearer, I realized he’d still been holding back. He’d followed all the unspoken rules about where was safe for him to kiss and touch me, and he’d transitioned abruptly from fiery passion to soft tenderness before I had to tell him to stop. The thought of what he would be like unrestrained was almost frightening.
He caught my chin with his fingers and coaxed me into looking at his searching blue eyes. “Did I scare you?”
And I still couldn’t hide anything from him.
“No. Well, not exactly. I guess it’s the idea of what you could do if you wanted to that scares me,” I confessed.
He brushed his thumb across my chin, just under my bottom lip. “What I want is for you to feel safe with me.”
“I do, it’s just…you know,” I said, my eyes wandering guiltily away from him. It wasn’t fair for him to have to prove himself again and again when my negative experiences got in the way, but I couldn’t forget the past, no matter how much I wanted to.
He leaned in for a soft kiss. “I know,” he murmured against my lips, pressing another kiss to them before he leaned back and loosened his hold on my waist. “We’re going outside.”
I took the cue to stand up and smooth my skirts, grateful for the change in subject. “Even though the guests are looking for me?”
“You forget how unapproachable I am to others,” he replied, picking up our books and heading for the door. “Nobody will bother us.”
He held the door open for me, as always, and I walked through it into the main library. A couple of people I didn’t recognize turned quickly away to the shelves, as if they were only browsing, but they kept glancing back over their shoulders at me. It was almost humorous, and a little uncomfortable, too. I raised my chin and took Chevalier’s arm, determined to hold my head high and play the part of a princess to perfection. He led me to the exit with a small smile of approval.
“Sariel has reviewed the schedule for tomorrow with you, correct?”
“Yes, he has,” I said, taking his cue to engage in a conversation that would hopefully distract me from the curious onlookers. “I have the entire morning to get ready, although I don’t know why I would need that much time, and - oh! I forgot to thank you for the dress!” I interrupted myself, beaming up at him. “It’s beautiful! When did you design it?”
“At the beginning of the goodwill gala,” he replied, his crystal blue eyes warm as he held the next door open for us.
“How did you know this would happen? That I’d be with you at your coronation ceremony? Did you already know I was a princess then?” I asked, the questions tumbling out of me too quickly for me to stop them.
“I didn’t, and no,” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
A handful of nobility stood frozen in place further down the hallway, some of them still mid-step, none of them even trying to hide their stares. Chevalier turned us away from them without so much as a glance in their direction. How he maintained his warm expression with me while still radiating a glacial chill to others was beyond me.
“I knew you were at least of noble blood,” he continued. “But my motivation for designing the dress was simple. I wanted to see you in a ball gown.”
I resisted the urge to drop my gaze to the floor as my cheeks warmed. Princesses didn’t get embarrassed, or didn’t let it show, anyway. There wasn’t really much I could do about the blush.
“Well, you’ll get to see me in it tomorrow,” I said. “And Yves is doing my hair, too. He and Theresa spent an hour yesterday morning trying different styles on me.”
“And you wonder why you’ll need the entire morning to prepare,” Chevalier said, the hint of a smirk playing across his lips.
“I won’t if everybody descends on me all at once like they did yesterday,” I replied. “Yves nearly walked in on me changing. Thank goodness Theresa got him out before he saw anything.”
“You didn’t tell me about that,” Chevalier said, frowning.
“I forgot about it until now. It’s fine,” I reassured him. “If Yves saw anything, he wouldn’t have been able to face me afterwards. He gets embarrassed as easily as I do.”
“True,” Chevalier said, the smirk returning.
“Anyway, while you’re in the throne room for the ceremony, I’ll be in the entrance hall with most of the guests,” I said, returning to my review of tomorrow’s schedule. “The only people allowed into the throne room are the royal family, the visiting monarchs, the court ministers, and the elite royal guard.” I counted the groups off on my fingers as I listed them, and then I looked back up at Chevalier. “Did I miss anybody?”
“No, but there is one detail you wouldn’t know. The king of Obsidian is not coming, so Gilbert will stand in his stead.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that an insult to you?”
“Yes, it is,” Chevalier said flatly.
His narrowed pale blue eyes and very slight furrow in his brow told me he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and I didn’t want to push him. The thought of seeing Gilbert again had my stomach in knots. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about him during the ceremony, since he would be in the throne room.
Which was probably why Chevalier told me that. He was always so considerate to me.
“I wish I could see the ceremony,” I said, putting my free hand on his arm and moving closer to his side. “It’s probably all boring rituals and symbolism, but it’s your ceremony. Could you tell me about it?”
“Sariel has explained it to you already.”
“Yes, but I’d like to hear it from you,” I said, hugging his arm and giving him my best imploring look. He glanced down at me and chuckled.
“You would be an intolerable distraction during the ceremony,” he scoffed, but he was smiling again, and that’s what I wanted. “Unlike you, my preparations are brief. I have only to put on ceremonial attire passed down from king to king through the generations. The ceremony begins when I enter the throne room, after the rest have taken their places along the red carpet. I take my seat on the throne, and Sariel, as the last king’s regent, officiates. There are a series of questions and statements for the various witnesses and me to recite before he places the crown on my head. Then everybody bows, and I lead a procession of my brothers, the court ministers, and the royal guard out of the throne room to the front gate, where we mount our horses and continue the parade down to the city and then back again.”
We left the palace and stepped into the warmth and beauty of the gardens while he was speaking. At least one person was around every bend in the cobblestone paths. I hadn’t realized that this many guests had already arrived, and more would trickle in throughout the afternoon and on into the evening, maybe even during the night, with the last arrivals coming the next morning. Facing all of them alone while Chevalier was in the throne room and then gone leading the parade was a daunting prospect.
“Your entire guard detail will be on duty tomorrow,” Chevalier said, reading my mind yet again.
“All twelve of them?” I asked, surprised.
“Julius will stay by your side, with Byron within a few feet of you. It is unlikely that you will see the remaining ten unless you look for them, but I’ve instructed them to maintain constant visual contact with you.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“The entire royal family will be out of the palace, leaving you vulnerable. I’ll take no chances with your safety,” he said sternly.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, if it makes you feel better about leaving me, then I guess I don’t mind. Especially since Gilbert will be here.”
Chevalier pulled his arm free from mine and slipped it around my waist. I leaned into him, happy to forget everything else and just enjoy our leisurely stroll. The warmth of spring hadn’t yet become the heat of summer, and the non-seasonal roses were in full bloom alongside Rhodolite’s unique year-round blooms. Shades of reds, pinks, and greens lined every walkway, climbed every arch, and sweetened the air with their fragrance. Splashes of white scattered throughout brightened the other colors. The central fountain’s constant flow of burbling water curved up from the spout at the top, cascading down through each consecutive bowl in rivulets to join the smooth surface of the pool at the bottom in gentle ripples, reminding me of the quiet chatter of the river beside my old house.
“Why did you think I had noble blood?” I asked after a while.
“Your speech, posture, and etiquette were all too proper for a commoner. A former prostitute wouldn’t teach her daughter how to comport herself as a noblewoman.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I remember you asked me about my speech when you asked about my mother. So, you already knew all of that then?”
“Yes. And I knew you came from northwestern Obsidian, in and around what was formerly Garnet. I was simply gauging what you knew.”
“Now, how could you possibly know that?” I asked, smiling because I knew he wasn’t lying. Anybody else would be, but not him. He knew.
“Your name. Ivetta isn’t a Rhodolitian name, nor is Evelyn, but both are common in that region of Obsidian.”
“I didn’t even know you knew my name back then,” I teased.
“Clavis told me,” he replied, smirking. “But he didn’t know your age, and he assumed, as did I, that you must be older than you looked based on your level of maturity.”
“How old did you think I was?” I asked, intrigued. He had seemed genuinely surprised when the incident with Jack forced me to tell him I was only eighteen.
“Early to mid-twenties. Based on that overestimation, I determined you and your mother came to Rhodolite after Obsidian’s invasion of Garnet, when you were too young to remember. I knew the queen of Garnet bore the name of Evelyn, and she vanished during the invasion, but she had no children, so I discarded the theory that she was your mother, thinking it more likely your mother came from disgraced Obsidianite nobility or Garnetian refugees. The revelation of your age made me reevaluate my assumptions regarding your background, but I knew of no reason for a queen to resign herself to a life of anonymity and poverty when she could have easily come to the palace for aid, so I deemed it highly unlikely that you were a Garnetian princess.”
“Until the gala, when Gilbert wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Chevalier nodded. “I realized then that you had to be a Garnetian princess, but I couldn’t understand why your mother would have gone into hiding and kept that information from you, or why Gilbert persisted in harassing you, until you told me of his claim of ownership over you. He could only make such a claim if there was a marriage agreement or some form of indentured servitude I knew nothing about, with a marriage agreement being the more humiliating of the two options for your mother and the more relevant option for a prince who has no dearth of servants. Once I fully understood the situation, I tasked Sariel with devising a method to nullify that agreement without inciting a war with Obsidian.”
“You did that?” I asked, a pleasant warmth wrapping around my heart.
Chevalier just smiled and pulled me into shadows. I hadn’t been paying much attention to where we were going, and I realized now that he’d led me to the gazebo at the very back of the gardens, the same gazebo Gilbert brought me to during the gala. This wasn’t a coincidence. Chevalier had a reason for bringing me here, and the thrill of anticipation I felt was impatient to know what it was. He set our books on the stone bench and straightened up again, wrapping both arms around me and pulling me close.
“I told you that you belonged to me, Ivetta, and I meant it,” he murmured, his beautiful blue eyes coming closer to mine. “If I had to fight a war to keep you with me, I’d do it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to,” I replied, smiling as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I’m not,” he said, nudging my nose with his. “A war would have been preferable to what happened to you.”
“You know I think the opposite, don’t you?”
He laughed softly, his breath touching my lips and heating my cheeks. “Yes, I do,” he said, brushing my lips with his. “That is something I’ll never understand.”
His lips pressed into mine, soft and warm but wanting more. I parted my lips and savored the deepening kiss, the feel of his hands on my back, the tickle of his blonde hair across my skin.
“You taste the way you are, Ivetta,” he breathed against my lips, sliding a hand up my back to cradle my head for his next kiss. “Too sweet.”
I smiled and let him drown me in his affection, surrounded by the heavy scent of roses and nothing else in the world. Maybe he didn’t realize it, but he was sweet, too.
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