by Cora Caraway
Toweling off, I pick out a turquoise dress. I’m not sure when Damon plans to announce our engagement, but I’d like to look presentable when he does. Taking one more breath in the privacy of the prince’s room, I steel myself for going back under the microscope.
As soon as I step outside, two maids pass with a cartful of towels. Is it my imagination, or are they hiding smiles behind their hands? Exhaling, I do my best to shake off the thought. I’m probably just being paranoid. There’s no way gossip could have already made the rounds.
I decide to get more exercise and take the long spiraling staircase to the main hall. A crowd has gathered outside the dining room, far larger than I would expect at this hour. I hear whispers, and someone points at me. They all turn to stare. My heartbeat speeds.
The crowd parts for me as I approach. I barely notice them anymore. I’m dreading what I’ll find beyond. Pushing through the double doors, I gasp.
“Oh, no. No, no, no.”
2
It’s worse than I feared. The ceiling is festooned with streamers of silver and turquoise. With rising horror, I look down at my dress. Somehow, I’m matching the decorations. It looks like I planned this nightmare. I wonder if it’s possible to sink into the floor, or if I should cut my losses and jump out a low window. What is Damon going to say when he sees all this?
I should have believed Nic when he said that word travels fast here.
A turquoise banner is draped over one end of the hall, an ivory lion rampant at its center. Turning, I find that it’s faced by a matching banner at the other end of the hall. This one shows a bird in flight. I blink, wondering what it’s doing there. There aren’t any birds on the Lion family crest. There are peacocks in the gardens, but this bird isn’t a peacock.
That’s when it hits me. It’s a sparrow.
My eyes well at the realization. Someone went through the trouble to make this, just for me. The palace has felt so foreign at times, and some of its inhabitants were far from welcoming. But I do have champions here. This banner is proof of that. I’m shocked by how good it feels to see that proud little bird, evidence that some here accept me for who I am.
I frown, wondering who could have made such a thing so quickly. I’m sure the Lions don’t keep animal banners in their basement.
There’s a tap on my shoulder. I find Eris behind me, grinning.
“I should have known.” I shake my head.
“Don’t lie. You like it.”
I let my smile speak for itself. Eris was assigned to be my maid, but she’s much better at making dresses. And banners, apparently.
“I’m going to have to take a nap soon,” she says, gesturing toward the banners. “I was up all night working on them.”
“Who could have possibly tipped you off last night?”
Rashad appears at my elbow. “I suspect a certain driver, one who has never seen his clients happier.”
My face heats, and I bury it in my hands.
“I’ve also never seen you wear a ring before,” he continues. “Especially not on your ring finger. The way you kept touching it, it was rather obvious.”
Eris steps in. “Don’t blame Rashad. We have to stay one step ahead of our employers. Now can I see the ring?”
I hold out my hand, and she gazes at it.
“Is it true it’s from a shipwreck? And the prince proposed underwater?”
Looking at Rashad, I narrow my eyes. “Is there any part you haven’t told?”
“Just to Eris.” At least he has the decency to look embarrassed. “You try keeping the juicy details from her.”
Silence descends. I turn to see what’s made everyone so quiet. Damon sweeps into the room, his suit immaculate as always. He takes in the decorations, his face expressionless. I twist my ring around my finger, wondering just how angry he is that our news got out in such an extravagant way.
His eyes meet mine across the room, and his mouth twitches. As he closes the gap between us, a smile forms across his face. It seems that he can’t help it. I laugh with relief as he takes me in his arms. Why did I think the worst of him?
Damon kisses me soundly. “I should have warned you, Grace. News doesn’t stay private for long around here.”
“So I’ve realized.” I think I need to sit down. It’s been a rather exhausting morning.
As if he senses my thoughts, Damon guides me to a chair. “I would have liked to tell Father in person, but it looks like that can’t be helped.”
Rashad clears his throat, looking pointedly at the doorway. The king stands there, frowning as he surveys the new décor.
Beckoning me, Damon strides toward his father. Though I would rather hide under a table, I follow. We stand before the king, Damon clutching my hand.
“Good morning, Father. I’d like to inform you that I’ve asked Grace to marry me.”
Silver confetti rains from the ceiling. The king’s frown only deepens. I have to stifle laughter. In the corner, Eris has her hands on a lever. She looks pleased with herself.
Darius brushes confetti off his shoulder. “So I heard.”
I can’t tell if he’s upset because Damon wasn’t the first to tell him, or because his son has chosen me. Probably both. I try not to sigh. I’m never going to please him. The most I can hope for is that he doesn’t start lecturing us until after breakfast.
“Is there anything you have to say?” Damon asks, a hint of challenge in his voice. It almost sounds like he’s daring his father to question his choice. I wonder if Damon has already thought out various rebuttals. That seems like something he would do. I squeeze his hand, silently telling him that I’m here for him.
The king’s forehead creases. “Sarina spent hours convincing Marc to come back to court. Please don’t mention the crown or other unpleasantness to him.”
I bristle at his words. This is more important than our engagement? Why should I care about Marc’s feelings when he tried to ruin a royal ball?
Before I can say anything, Damon puts a hand on my waist. Darius walks past us, taking his place at the table. The queen glides in his wake, completely ignoring us.
“It’s all right,” Damon murmurs. “We’ll take care of this later.”
I feel a sharp stab of shame. Damon shouldn’t have to reassure me. Why am I so concerned with how I feel? I’m sure Darius’s disdain hurts Damon more than it could ever hurt me. I lay my cheek against his shoulder. I’ll have to comfort him somehow, in a more private place.
We sit at the long table, and I prepare myself for an awkward breakfast. I can only hope that it’s mercifully short. At least our friends are happy for us. A server winks as she sets a plate in front of me, turning so that the king can’t see her smile.
I poke at my poached eggs. It’s not fair that one person’s lack of enthusiasm can sour everything. He shouldn’t have that much power, even if he is a king. I wish he had lectured us instead. At least that way it would have seemed like he cared.
A group of maids bustles into the hall to sweep up the confetti. Two giggle at each other, and the rest hum an upbeat song as they push their brooms. There seems to be an undercurrent of happiness in the palace that the stormy expression on the king’s face can’t stem. I’ll have to be content with that.
The double doors fly open with a bang, making me jump. Ceasing their humming mid-beat, the maids scurry aside. Natalia floats into the room, Marc on her arm. She glances at the decorations, but hides her disgust well. I’m sure she’s imagining setting my banner ablaze. Marc stares straight ahead, as if he’s blind to the colors and strewn confetti.
“Brother!” Breaking free of Natalia’s hold, Marc runs for Damon.
Nic steps forward to block his path, and I silently thank the bodyguard. I wouldn’t put it past Marc to have a knife in his hand.
“It’s okay,” Damon says softly in his bodyguard’s ear. Scowling, Nic stands down in time for Marc to wrap Damon in a tight hug.
“I’m so happy for you, big brother! Congratulations
, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”
“Thanks, Marc. That means a lot to me.”
I blink at my soon-to-be brother-in-law, stunned. This was the reception I had hoped for, but I never thought words like that would come out of Marc’s mouth. I wonder if they burned on the way out.
“And Grace!” He turns to me. “Welcome to the family. Can I get a hug from you, too?”
I remain seated, paralyzed with confusion. It was only two days ago that I foiled Marc’s plan to steal a crown that didn’t belong to him, and he told me that he would make me regret it. I have no reason to believe that he’s changed at all since then.
Marc laughs, taking a seat next to Damon. “You have the right idea. No use celebrating on an empty stomach!”
I’m utterly perplexed. Marc could have easily stirred his parents’ rage by pretending to be hurt by my rudeness. Instead, he brushed it off and covered for me. This isn’t the Marc I know at all, and I think I preferred the old one. This charming version seems like it could lull me into a false sense of security.
Natalia perches on the edge of Marc’s chair, throwing her arm around him. “Congratulations, you two. You look very happy together.”
I nod my thanks, trying to focus on my breakfast. Natalia is more cold-blooded than most snakes. I know she’s seething at our engagement, especially since she once tried to marry Damon in a surprise wedding ceremony. Trying to ignore how Marc is feeding Natalia bits of bacon, I turn to my grapefruit. Maybe those two aren’t as bad as I feared. They are royal, after all. If nothing else, they should have learned to be civilized by now.
“You know what I’m going to do for you, Brother?” Marc asks.
I pray that the answer doesn’t involve concealed weapons.
Damon inclines his head, the picture of polite interest.
Marc slaps the table. “I’m going to throw an engagement party! For both of you.”
The prince looks at me, a question in his eyes. The very thought of attending a party thrown by Marc makes my skin crawl. There are so many ways that could go horribly wrong.
“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Damon says. “We’ll have to discuss it in private.”
Relief spreads through me. What an elegant solution. Damon can decline in private as well, without the audience of the monarchs.
“What’s there to discuss?” Marc asks. “I’m your brother! Who’ll throw it if I don’t?”
Nic clears his throat, earning a glare from Marc.
Damon reaches under the table to squeeze my hand. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I can tell he’s going to accept. I want to shout at him not to, but my traitorous mouth can’t form the words.
He leans close to whisper in my ear. “Let’s give him a chance.”
I look at him helplessly. I don’t want to wreck their brotherly bond, though Marc’s already done a fine job of that on his own. But if Damon wants this, I won’t deny him.
“All right,” I whisper back.
“Marc,” Damon says, “we’re pleased to accept your offer.”
“That’s just fantastic.” He flashes a wide grin around the room. “Isn’t that great, Dad?”
Across the table, the king nods gravely. “A father is always pleased when his children get along.”
I have to bite back a laugh. Maybe that’s why the king is constantly dour.
“What a wonderful idea,” Natalia says. “You’re such a clever man.” She plants a kiss on Marc’s cheek. Is she intentionally trying to ruin my appetite?
Natalia runs her fingers through Marc’s hair. “I’ll help too. We want to give the happy couple a night they’ll never forget.”
I push my plate aside, my appetite officially dead. What have I agreed to?
By the time everyone has finished eating, my stomach roils so much that I can’t concentrate on the polite banter. As soon as the king sets his knife and fork across his plate, signaling that the meal is over, I stumble up from my chair.
“Are you all right?” Damon asks.
I nod. “I just need some fresh air.”
“Meet me on the roof. I’ll only be a moment.” He gives me a reassuring smile.
As safe as he makes me feel, I can’t stand to be in this room a moment longer. Walking slightly faster than is proper, I make my escape.
Outside the double doors, the tightness in my lungs finally dissipates. There’s a light touch on my arm.
I should have started running.
Natalia stands beside me, batting her eyelashes. “Can I ask you something, Grace?”
Does she want the number for a hit man? “What is it?”
“Are we okay? I don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us.”
I gape at her, not quite sure what to say. She’s spent almost every second I’ve known her trying to lure Damon away from me.
“Um … of course we’re okay.” What other polite response is there?
“Good.” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I do want us to be friends. And I want Damon to be happy. Do try to keep him satisfied. He moves on otherwise. There will always be women waiting to snap him up.”
“Thanks for the advice.” I can’t tell if she actually thinks she’s being helpful, or subtly trying to tear me apart. Who am I kidding, it’s definitely the latter.
“I’m glad we had this talk.” She squeezes my arm, a little harder than necessary. “Let me know if Damon ever needs anything. I’ll always be here for him.”
“I’ll let him know.” Inclining my head slightly, I take my leave, heading for the spiral stair. I wonder if Natalia provides tutoring in verbal cut downs. Resisting the urge to look back to make sure she’s not coming after me, I climb the stairs. She doesn’t follow, but my skin prickles as I feel her eyes on me until I reach the top. By the time I spare her a glance from the highest landing, she’s gone.
I’m greeted by a rush of air as I step onto the roof. The City of Lions is still clutched in the grip of summer, and the wind blows hot. Gazing over the red clay roofs of the city, my stomach clenches. The worst part is that Natalia may be right. What is Damon supposed to do if I can’t satisfy him? And I can’t, if last night is any indication.
I suppress a cry of hysterical laughter. I couldn’t even bear to let him touch me last night. I doubt any woman has done that to him before. Most of his partners have probably begged for his touch, and far more. And he’s been with so many, most vastly more experienced than me. How can I compete with that?
The door to the roof swings open. Damon stands there, his arms outstretched. He runs toward me, and I try to smile as he holds me close. My heart drums against my chest. This man is the source of my happiness. I don’t want to be the source of his sorrow.
The prince guides me to a bench. “We’re all alone here. Honestly, what is it?”
“You should run.” I bury my face in his shoulder so I don’t have to face him. “Before I cause you too much pain.”
Damon puts a hand on my back, rubbing in small circles. “Are you referring to last night?”
I look down, unable to help the tears that escape.
“Grace, losing you is the most painful thing I can imagine. Do you trust me on that?”
Letting out a shuddering breath, I nestle closer. “You’re the only one I trust.”
He stiffens. “I saw Natalia follow you out of the dining room. Did she say something to you?”
“She didn’t have to.”
Damon frowns at the roof, as if he can see Natalia far below. “Don’t worry about her. Or Marc. I have you, and you have me. That’s all that matters.”
“But what about … last night?”
“It’ll happen.” He kisses my temple. “I’ll be patient. I want the time to be right for both of us.”
I lean against him, grateful for his calming presence. The heat magnifies his masculine scent, and the result is heady. Who could resist such a man? Besides me, that is. I glance around the rooftop. The helipad sits empty. We’r
e alone except for a sleek white jet in the far corner.
Testing myself, I press a hand against Damon’s thigh. Beneath silky fabric, I can feel hard muscle. Closing my eyes, I imagine grazing one finger up his leg, blazing a trail to his zipper. I’m sure he couldn’t resist me. He would let me unbuckle his belt and slide off his pants. I’d hook my thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, dragging them to the ground. He’d kick them aside, standing half-bare before me. I’d reach for him, and feel him throb against my palm. Our eyes would lock, and he would lay me on the bench…
“Grace?” Damon shifts, moving his thigh out from under me.
There’s an ache deep within me as my hand loses contact. Worse, a steady pulse runs through me, beating out the rhythm of an unknown need. Everything was right in my vision. This reality before me is wrong.
The prince puts a cool hand to my forehead. “Is the heat getting to you? You seemed out of it for a minute.”
“I’m fine.” Nothing could be further from the truth.
“All right. Let me know if you need water or anything. Anyway, as I was saying, I have something for you.”
Sliding from the bench, he gets down on one knee and pulls out a velvet box.
I wrinkle my brow, perplexed. “Haven’t we done this already?”
“Not like this.” He opens the box, revealing a ring. This one is diamond, a huge solitaire that sparkles in the sun. In my old line of work, I had to know a thing or two about them for … resale purposes. I’ve never seen one this large, or this clear and colorless. If I had the chance in my prime, I definitely would have relieved it of its owner.
Damon looks up at me, like he’s waiting for a reaction. “Do you like it?”
“Is it really for me?”
He laughs, wrapping me in a hug. “Of course it’s for you.” He slips the ring onto my finger, where it rests snuggly against the lion.
I hold my hand away from my face to admire them both. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I already loved the first ring.”
“Keep them both. They’re yours, so do what you want with them. I thought you might like a diamond as well, so you can choose which one you’d like to wear.”
