“Princess, I know every man who even thinks about touching you. Much less one who you danced with. Twice,” Rhys added, the word lethally soft.
It should’ve frightened me, but instead, my skin tingled and my thighs clenched.
What is wrong with me?
“That’s quite a talent.” I’d only danced with Edwin twice because he’d insisted, and I was too tired to argue.
Rhys’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So. The Earl of Falser. Is he the one?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not unless I want to spend the rest of my life hearing about his clothes and gym equipment.”
Rhys pressed his thumb against my pounding pulse. “Good.”
The way he said it made it sound like the earl had escaped death by a hair’s breadth.
“I should return to the dance,” I said, even though that was the last thing I wanted. “Elin must be going crazy.”
“Going?”
I laughed my first real laugh of the night. “You’re terrible.”
“But not wrong.”
This was the Rhys I’d missed. The dry humor, the glimpses of his hidden softness. This was the real Rhys.
“How does twenty-four feel?” he asked as we walked back to the ballroom.
“Like twenty-three, except hungrier and more tired. How does thirty-four feel?” He’d turned thirty-four during the weeks we’d been apart. I’d thought about calling him on his birthday but chickened out at the last minute.
“Like thirty-three, except stronger and smarter.”
A grin touched his mouth at my half-amused, half-annoyed huff.
When we returned to the ball, we found Elin waiting for us at the entrance with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Good. You found her,” she said without looking at Rhys. “Your Highness, where have you been?”
“I had to use the ladies’ room.” It was only half a lie.
“For forty minutes? You missed your dance with Prince Demetrios, who just left.” Elin sighed. “Never mind. There are more potential suitors here. Go, quickly. The night is almost over.”
Thank God for that.
I resumed my dances. Elin watched me like a hawk, and I was too terrified to look in Rhys’s direction lest something show on my face that I didn’t want her to see.
“Am I that boring?”
“I’m sorry?” I dragged my attention back to my current partner Steffan, the son of the Duke of Holstein.
“You keep looking over my shoulder. Either there’s something fascinating happening behind me, or my in-depth analysis of the palace’s architectural style isn’t as scintillating as I thought.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. “My apologies.” None of my previous dance partners had picked up on my wandering attention, and I’d assumed he wouldn’t either. “That was terribly rude of me.”
“No apologies necessary, Your Highness.” Steffan’s eyes crinkled in a good-natured smile. “I must admit, I could’ve come up with a better conversation topic than the history of neoclassicism. That’s what happens when I’m nervous. I spout all sorts of useless facts.”
I laughed. “There are worse ways to deal with nerves, I suppose.”
My skin suddenly burned, and I stumbled for a second before I caught myself.
“Are you all right?” Steffan asked, looking concerned.
I nodded, forcing myself not to look at Rhys, but I could feel the heat of his stare on my back.
Focus on Steffan. He was the most enjoyable dance partner I’d had all night, and he checked every box for an eligible Prince Consort: funny, charming, and handsome, not to mention the bluest of blue bloods.
I liked him. I just didn’t like him romantically.
“It seems our time has come to an end,” Steffan said when the music wound down. The night was finally over. “But perhaps we could go out sometime, just the two of us? The new skating rink on Nyhausen is quite nice, and they serve the best hot chocolate in the city.”
A date.
I wanted to say no because I didn’t want to lead him on, but that was the whole point of the ball—to find a husband, and I couldn’t get a husband without dating first.
“That sounds lovely,” I said.
Steffan grinned. “Excellent. I’ll call you later and we’ll set up the details.”
“It’s a plan.”
I left to give my closing speech thanking everyone for attending, and after the guests filtered out one by one, I hurried out of the ballroom, eager to leave before Elin could get a hold of me.
I made it halfway to the exit before someone blocked my path.
“Your Highness.”
I stifled a groan. “Lord Erhall.”
The Speaker of Parliament stared down his nose at me. He was a tall, spindly man with graying hair and eyes like a reptile’s, cold and predatory. He was also one of the most powerful people in the country, hence why he received an invite despite not being in the eligible bachelor age range.
“His Majesty and I missed you at yesterday’s meeting,” he said. “We discussed the new proposed tax reform legislation, which I’m sure you would have contributed greatly to.”
I didn’t miss the mocking undertone. I sometimes attended the weekly meetings my grandfather had with the Speaker, and Erhall had insinuated multiple times he thought I had no business being there.
He was one of the Parliament members Edvard had referred to when he’d said there were people who didn’t want to see a woman on the throne.
“Indeed,” I said coolly. “You’ve been trying to pass similar legislation for years, have you not, Mr. Speaker? It does seem it could benefit from new ideas.”
Erhall’s mouth tightened, but his voice was deceptively light when he responded. “I hope you enjoyed the ball, Your Highness. Husband hunting is surely a top priority for a princess.”
Everyone knew the true purpose of the ball, but no one was stupid or untactful enough to voice it out aloud…except for Erhall, who wielded enough power he could get away with insulting the crown princess at her own party. There were even rumors he might be the next Prime Minister when he inevitably ran for the office.
I resisted the urge to slap him. That would play right into his game. No one would be happier than Erhall if my public image took a hit, which it would if I was caught attacking the Speaker of Parliament on my birthday.
“Let me be frank, Your Highness.” Erhall smoothed his tie. “You are a lovely young woman, but being the monarch of Eldorra requires more than a pretty face. You have to understand the politics, the dynamics, the serious issues at hand. Your brother was trained for it, but you haven’t even lived in Eldorra for the past few years. Don’t you think it would be best if you handed the responsibilities of the crown to someone more suited to the role?”
“Who might that be?” My voice dripped poisonous honey. “Someone male, I presume.”
It was unbelievable we were having this conversation, but no one had ever accused Parliament of moving forward with the times.
Erhall smiled, wise enough not to give a direct answer. “Whoever you think best, Your Highness.”
“Let me be clear, Mr. Speaker.” My face was hot and blotchy from humiliation, but I pushed past it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing he’d gotten under my skin. “I have no intention of abdicating, stepping aside, or handing my responsibilities to anyone else.” No matter how much I want to. “One day, I’ll sit on the throne, and you’ll have to answer to me—if you are still in power then.” Erhall’s face darkened at my not-so-subtle dig. “Therefore, it’s best for everyone involved if we have a civil relationship.” I paused, then added, “On that note, I suggest monitoring your tone when speaking with me or any member of the royal family. You are a guest here. That’s it.”
“You—” Erhall took a step toward me, then blanched and quickly stepped back.
Rhys came up beside me, his face expressionless but his eyes darker than a thundercloud. “Is he bothering you, Your Highness?”
Erhall glared at him but wisely kept his mouth shut.
“No. The Speaker was just leaving.” I flashed a polite smile. “Weren’t you, Mr. Speaker?”
The Speaker’s lips thinned. He gave me a tight nod and a curt “Your Highness” before spinning on his heel and marching away.
“What did he say to you?” Menace rolled off Rhys in palpable waves, and I was certain he would hunt Erhall down and snap his neck if I gave the okay.
“Nothing worth repeating. Really,” I repeated when Rhys continued glaring at the spot where Erhall had stood. “Forget about him.”
“He was about to grab you.”
“He wouldn’t have.” I wasn’t sure what Erhall had planned to do before Rhys showed up, but he was too savvy to lose his cool in public. “Please, drop it. I just want to sleep. It’s been a long night.”
I didn’t want to waste more energy on Erhall. He wasn’t worth it.
Rhys complied, though he didn’t look happy about it. Then again, he rarely looked happy.
He escorted me to my room, and when we arrived at my door, he pulled something out of his suit pocket.
“Your birthday present,” he said gruffly, handing me a rolled-up sheet of paper tied with a ribbon. “Nothing fancy, but I had it and thought you might like it.”
My breath caught. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
We never bought each other birthday presents. The most we did was buy each other a meal, and even then, we pretended it was for something other than the other’s birthday.
“It’s not a big deal.” Rhys watched, shoulders tense, while I carefully untied the ribbon and unrolled the paper.
Once I saw what was on it, I gasped.
It was me.
A drawing of me, to be exact, in a pool surrounded by hills with the ocean in the distance. Head tipped back, smile on my face, looking freer and happier than I ever remembered feeling. The curve of my lips, the sparkle in my eyes, even the tiny mole beneath my ear…
He’d captured it all in exquisite, painstaking detail, and looking at me through his eyes, I believed I was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“It’s not jewelry or anything like that,” Rhys said. “Keep it if you want or toss it. I don’t care.”
“Toss it?” I clutched the drawing to my chest. “Are you kidding? Rhys, this is beautiful.”