by Lina Jubilee
The clinking behind me made me turn, and I located the restroom and the small kitchenette beside it. Rio stepped out, two black, square platters in his hands. Somehow, he’d gotten a small dash of white powder—flour, or perhaps powdered sugar, on closer inspection—on his nose.
Before I realized what I was doing, I brushed it off him. He froze, and tucking my clutch under my arm, I grabbed both platters from him, examining the array of noodles with sliced cucumbers and a hard-boiled egg, garnished with black dots I guessed to be dried seaweed, marinated in a sauce that smelled of soy and ginger. There wasn’t any steam coming off the platters, and I realized they were chilled.
“Cold udon,” said Rio, scrambling to get ahead of me to open the door. “With egg, cucumbers, and ginger.”
The newly night air caressed my face as I stepped out, the atmosphere hanging off the water. Despite its slight twinge of fishiness, the breeze was invigorating as I put the platters down, sliding my purse under one of the chairs and taking a seat.
Rio disappeared back inside the cabin for a bit and returned with two glasses of a pale green liquid I recognized immediately as green tea.
From a rolled-up set of two cloth napkins, he produced two sets of bamboo chopsticks as well as two bamboo forks.
“Do you have a preference?” he asked.
I grabbed for the chopsticks and beamed. Rio followed suit as he sat down. It was cute that he’d brought two forks, as if he’d intended to mirror whatever my choice had been.
It was hard to focus on my food with this handsome man across this very short table, the two of us alone here on this boat, the guards’ boat having stopped at least a half mile away behind us, giving us some space.
Perhaps the “chaperoned” dates weren’t really so chaperoned after all.
“You know, you surprise me,” I said, picking up my first few noodles in a small clump. “You can sail and cook…”
“Taste it before you tell me I can cook,” he said, his head slinking into his shoulders just slightly, but his lips tugged up in one corner.
I did as bidden and found the taste of such a deceptively simple-looking dish powerful, my senses seeming to come to life as the sauce worked its way through across my tongue.
“It’s delicious,” I said once I’d finished chewing.
“Your eyes popped,” he said, chuckling.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not delicious. What a strong flavor.” I took another bite, and Rio finally started enjoying his.
“It is a simple dish,” he finally said after a few bites. “I would hate to have you think this is the best Japanese cuisine has to offer.”
“It’s the first time a prince has cooked for me,” I said. “That makes it among the best anyone has to offer, in my opinion.” I felt like such a sycophant for saying it, but the way Rio’s eyes lit up, his stoic expression melting, it seemed the right thing to say.
I gazed around the deck for a moment as I sipped the tea. “Do you do this often?”
“Cook for princesses or sail, do you mean?”
I chuckled. “Either, I suppose.”
Rio studied the sky, the sparkling stars popping up against the darkness one by one as the sun faded entirely. “I often travel,” he said, and I tried to stuff down the sudden feeling of envy. “And the world can be a beautiful place, but when you are royalty, it is often a very crowded, hectic one.” He picked up his chopsticks and ate some more. “My father showed me how he dealt with it: A boat in every port, small enough to house just one or two. Out on the waters, the world seems distant, the noise far quieter.” He chewed for a bit and finished off his plate. The bottom of each platter was covered in a small bamboo mat. “I don’t want you to think we’re wasteful, a boat in every port we visit—”
“Please,” I said, finishing my own noodles. “One of my fathers may be Alarik, but I don’t police everyone I meet over how environmentally-friendly every little thing they do is.”
He studied me, his hands folded together, his elbows on the table in a very un-prince-like manner. The casualness of the gesture, though, the intimacy he conveyed so close to me, did something wild to the area between my thighs.
“I admire your father,” he said. “All of them.” The way he spoke that was without judgement and I appreciated it. “I just thought I should let you know that we share the boats with others, allow others to commune with nature out on the waters, make sure the boats are all properly cared for.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, sending him a smile. “I like knowing that Daddy Alarik’s word has reached more corners of the Earth than mine.”
“It would have to,” he said. “This is our world. All of ours. We had to work together to save it—and we are in danger of slipping back into dangerous habits at any time.”
Standing, he gathered our platters and chopsticks with all the graciousness of a professional butler, excusing himself for just a moment. I wanted to help him with the door at least, but he insisted I wait. When he returned, he came back with two small, round, and tall shortcakes, sprinkled with that powdered sugar I’d caught on his nose earlier, surrounded by strawberry halves and garnished with a small, double-leafed stalk of parsley. On closer inspection, I realized the shortcake was layered, cream and cake and strawberries lined up alternatively.
After picking up the fork, I dug in. “Oh, yummy,” I said, remembering to cover my mouth a beat too late. “And you made all this on a boat?”
“It is no-bake,” said Rio, more reservedly digging into his dessert. “I was not sure if you would have preferred a gourmet meal by a professional chef or—”
“This is perfect,” I said.
The clutch purse I’d forgotten about vibrated from under my chair. I didn’t want to seem rude, but we were all alone here and there’d been that news before we’d left. Unless it was Papa Zander, anyone needing to contact me in a pinch would have to text or call, considering I wasn’t wearing an in-the-field comm device on my wrist. “Excuse me,” I said, and he nodded, not a trace of annoyance on his face. I appreciated that, too.
I was hit with a tiny dose of annoyance and mostly relief when I saw it was just Rajani. How’s it going? Need a rescue yet?
Great, I wrote back quickly. I’ll give details later—in person.
I stuffed the phone back into the purse and under my seat again, finishing the dessert in awkward little bites. My senses seemed to grow stronger—the feel of the bamboo in my hand, inhaling the vibrant scent of the freshwater air with each breath. My heart seemed to be thudding more and more wildly as I looked across at Rio, as I could practically feel him sitting across from me, and a sudden thought occurred to me that perhaps strawberries were an aphrodisiac. Or was I just confusing that with the idea of strawberries and cream and sleek, slick bodies writhing together—
“Your abilities fascinate me,” said Rio, putting his fork down. “Though I’ve yet to see them in action, I’ve heard a lot about them. Protection.”
My ears and neck grew impossibly hot. “Well, I haven’t had a lot of cause to use it outside of class.”
“The benefit of living in an era of peace, one would say.” Rio pushed his plate aside slightly and peered at me, his elbows back at the table. “Though I have to admit that sometimes, I am envious of some of the older generations’ war stories.”
“You are?” I asked. There were a lot of things one could be envious about the previous generations, but fighting one another was not one of them, in my opinion.
Rio seemed to sense my disapproval, his chest caving slightly. “Not really, of course. I just…” He stared around at the deck, at the boat some yards behind us. “Sometimes I would really like to stretch my wings, so to speak.”
“Not a lot of room for super speed on a cramped boat?” I pushed aside my own dessert plate and leaned in closer, my forearms hugging the table, my throat growing dry as my body grew warmer, despite the nip in the air.
His eyes glistened. “No. But I would not trade this litt
le corner of the world for anything.” His fingers moved hesitantly toward my own, and when I didn’t flinch, they danced like feathers across the back of my hand.
“Princess Bryony,” he said in the softest of tones. I was going to melt into him. Despite my original plan that I would “sample” each one of Their Royal Highnesses, I was suddenly struck with the idea of making it happen somehow and as much as I felt a need to know, to understand what it was like to be in this prince’s arms, I was also second-guessing myself.
What if I screwed it all up? More than embarrassing myself, I could bungle relations between Nelia and a country on Earth. Maybe that was just the sudden panic talking, but I pulled my hand away gently.
“Bry,” I said, taking my napkin off my lap and dabbing my lips with it. “My friends just call me ‘Bry.’”
“Bry,” said Rio, as if trying out the name in his mouth. His hand retreated and he ran a finger along his collar, loosening the top button below his neck.
“You missed a display of my power,” I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Right before you came. A kid was getting teased on the playground at the Academy and I…” I stopped to see if he even wanted me to keep going. He was nodding, a relaxed smile forming on his face as he gazed at me.
I stumbled through the story of the kid and my protection bubble, feeling like an idiot when I mimed the movement of my arms held out in front of me in order to form and hold the sphere in place.
But he didn’t so much as chuckle. In fact, he seemed riveted. “And how does that work? That bubble of protection?”
“I don’t know. I just focus and it appears where I need it to be.” I mimed the gesture again.
“And could it be any size?”
“Well, the larger it is, the more it strains me, but…” Despite the jelly my thighs were turning into beneath the table, I worried for a moment, the slight suspicions that they seemed too convenient, these princes’ powers, too dangerous. Maybe he was asking because he needed to know—
I laughed internally. If the nation of Japan were a threat, surely, my parents would know.
“And what about smaller?” he asked. He gestured to the deck. “Could you make it small enough to encompass one or two people right here?”
He stood, and like the children and rats before the Pied Piper, I stood, too. I’d have thought he had been the prince with the ability to command others, but I gathered it was just some kind of animal magnetism.
He held a hand out to me, and I took it, marveling at how he managed the most princely of gestures without batting an eye. “Could you cover us both in it?”
Numbly, I nodded. “Of course.” The words caught in my throat.
He led us farther down the deck to the little bit of open space on the bow. The lights back on the shore twinkled, like a little bit of the starlit universe fallen to the Earth. “Would you hit the sides of the boat?” he asked, his voice breathy as we shuffled closer to one another, the bow barely wide enough to fit two people. “With this bubble?”
Despite myself, I chuckled. “It’s not like that. It… It adapts. Repels what I need it to. Or contains it.”
He bowed his head closer, his free hand brushing back the length of my hair. He didn’t flinch whatsoever as he revealed the pointed tip of my ear, his lips moving forward to brush the skin I knew he’d find a stranger texture than any Earthling’s. “Show me.”
So I did.
Chapter Nine
My entire body tingling, from my ear warmed by his hot breath to my toes, I focused on enfolding the two of us inside my bubble of protection. The energy radiated out from inside me, my hand slipping from Rio’s as I moved to shape the bubble with small, contained gestures. The air around us took on a pinkish haze, subtle but there if you looked for it, and Rio was keenly watching it, reaching a hand toward it.
“Is it safe?” he asked, pulling his hand instinctively closer to his chest.
I nodded. “If I want it to be for you.”
He clamped his lips together, watching it.
I smiled. “It is.”
Reaching his hand above his head, he touched it.
I almost lost my footing, and it wasn’t the gentle swaying of the boat beneath my feet. No one had ever really just… reached out and touched my protection bubble before. Blasted it during training, sure. Rammed against it during an episode in which they’d been losing control. But stroking it, fingers lightly dancing across its surface as if it were the gentlest of glass, the finest of jewels?
Never.
A moan escaped my lips and my knees buckled, the bubble fluttering slightly before I straightened my knees and dug in, determined not to let it fall.
Rio dropped his hand immediately and moved in almost to catch me, his hand landing on the small of my back before he realized I wasn’t about to fall after all.
The small of my back grew balmy in the dipping gap down the back of my dress as his hand rested on skin. I realized with a start that somehow, this was one and the same. Him touching me, him touching my bubble. He had pierced through to the core of my desires, had caressed a part of me as no one ever had, just by his curious touch.
“Sugoi. This is amazing.” His voice echoed around the space that muted all other noises, all other senses of being where we were. I flushed at the compliment, growing bolder, moving my hands in circles in an attempt to move the bubble closer, tighter.
Almost on instinct, his touch on my back turned into a grip as he shifted me toward him, away from the lowering pinkish haze around us.
My eyes were locked on his, his breath so near my skin, I could feel it.
With a start, the bubble vanished around us, all of my focus entirely elsewhere.
Well, that’s something I have to work on in training.
But Rio didn’t move to put more space between us even as the bubble lifted, as the quiet sounds of the bobbing tides returned to our ears, as the chilled breeze returned to ruffle our hair.
Without thinking, I moved a hand up to feel his black, wavy hair between my fingers, and the softness made my back arch, moving me more into him, my thigh grinding into his.
“Might I show you the rest of the cabin?” he asked quietly into my ear.
Flushing, I realized with a start that the other boat—the boat that could have Derek on it—was within the line of sight of where we were standing.
Nodding, I removed my fingers from his hair, but instead of being revolted by my invasion of his personal space, he took my hand in his and squeezed, leading me like just a normal person on a date with another normal person, none of the pageantry or royalty to think about.
The inside of the cabin was dimly lit, but the lighting was perfect to be able to make our way around while still being able to gaze out the long wall of windows at the sparkling water, which reflected the stars and the moon in the sky. Showing me to the couch, he asked, “Can I get you anything? Champagne? Wine? Sake?”
“Spritzer is fine,” I said, staring down at the hands I’d threaded on my lap. My heart was pounding, echoing in my head, and I worried if I started drinking, I’d lose all sense of control.
I was meant to be here, “trying” Prince Rio on for size, so to speak. But when it came down to it, it all felt rather embarrassing.
Rio returned with two identical glasses full of fizzy beverage, and some small part of me warmed to discover that he hadn’t chosen to drink himself, as if he were simply waiting for my lead.
“Tell me more about yourself,” he said as he sat two spaces away from me, resting a smooth, defined arm on the back of the couch. “Anything you feel comfortable sharing.”
“Such as?” I took a shaky drink. This close, it felt like I was breathing in his salty, fragrant air.
“Well, I told you about my sailing, those quiet moments of retreat.” He waited for me to speak, but I found myself simply stroking the glass in my hands, the condensation cool on my fingers. “Or you could start with… What is your major,
I believe it is called?”
“Political science,” I admitted. “With minors in history and geography.”
“A queen-to-be through and through.”
Smiling shakily, I downed the rest of the glass and searched for a coaster.
“More?” Rio asked, taking the glass from me instead.
“No, thanks,” I said, and my voice sounded shaky. Rio took the glasses away anyway, taking one last sip from his own and dropping them off somewhere in the kitchen.
“The thing is,” I said, my body growing heavy, “I didn’t pick my major. It’s not that I’m bad at those subjects or that I don’t find some enjoyment in them, but…”
When I didn’t finish my sentence, Rio returned and finished it for me. “It is what your parents expect of you.” There was more than just wisdom in his words; there was empathy.
“Yes!”
“So what would you study—if it were up to you?” Rio rested his chin on one palm, which he propped up against the top of the sofa behind him.
“Well, geography isn’t too far off,” I said. “But I want… I’d want to be out there, you know? Studying the world firsthand.”
Rio’s tightlipped smile was kind rather than condescending. “I am surprised the heir to the Nelian throne has never been seen accompanying her father on any diplomatic missions.”
“It was a deal,” I explained. “Between my parents—and with me, once I was older. They’d give me a ‘normal’ Earthling life, like my brother—as normal as life can be for the child of the founders of the nation’s most esteemed Natch academy.”
