“It’s quite rude of you to continue doing so when I’ve made it clear that I would like for you to move.”
“It’s quite rude of you to barge into my room dressed as—”
“Your lover?”
I stared at her for a moment. “I wouldn’t call her that.”
“What would you call her?”
Hell, how was I supposed to answer that? “A…good friend.”
She returned my stare. “I didn’t know friends behaved this way.”
“I’m willing to wager you don’t know much about these sorts of things.”
“And you wager all of this on just one kiss?”
“Just one kiss? Princess, you can learn a wealth of things from just one kiss.”
She quieted, and I…needed to know why she was here, at the Red Pearl, in this room, wearing a maid’s cloak. And where were her guards? I seriously doubted they’d allow her to come here. If so, I needed to know which one did so I could make sure that wasn’t the one who found themselves dead.
But I started with the most pressing question. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
As I waited for an answer, my eyes tracked over her mask and then lower, to where the cloak had parted…
It felt like a punch to the chest when I saw what she wore.
Or what she wasn’t wearing to be more exact.
The neckline was low, exposing the surprising swells of her breasts, and the gown, whatever silky material it was made of, was now my favorite. It was nearly transparent and thin enough that I thought for a moment the gods had woken from their slumber to bless me.
Or curse me.
But if this was the idea of a curse, then being damned wasn’t all that bad.
However, none of that answered why the untouched, pure Maiden would be at the Red Pearl, a notorious pleasure house in Masadonia, by herself. In a room with a man she believed thought her to be someone else, no less. Someone who had kissed her without one word of protest falling from her lips. Hell, she’d kissed me back. Started to, at least. And she was dressed…
She was dressed for utter debauchery.
It suddenly seemed hard to breathe as my gaze lifted to hers. A sense of understanding swept over me, quickly followed by disbelief. There was only one reason she would be here.
And I was more interested in all the reasons why than I had been interested in anything in…forever. I shouldn’t be. I had just been handed the golden goose. This was the perfect chance for me to take her. I could slip out of the city right now.
There’d be no need to continue the ruse of being a dutiful and loyal Rise Guard. No need to get close to her. Hell, I couldn’t get any closer than I was right now.
Well, yeah…I could.
I could get way closer.
But if I took her now, I’d never hear from her lips why she was here. And I needed to know that. If I made my move, I would lose the strange pounding in my chest. The warmth. The enjoyment. And I was a selfish son of a bitch when it came to something I wanted.
Besides, it wasn’t me who’d found her. She had found me. And in an instant, I was more than willing to let this play out for as long as possible.
Because it would all be over soon enough.
“I think I’m beginning to understand,” I told her.
“Does that mean you’re going to get up so I can move?”
I shook my head. “I have a theory.”
“I’m waiting with bated breath for this.”
The Maiden…she had a mouth on her.
I liked that.
A lot.
“I think you came to this very room with a purpose in mind,” I said. “It’s why you didn’t speak or attempt to correct my assumption of who you were. Perhaps the cloak you borrowed was also a very calculated decision. You came here because you want something from me.”
She dragged that lip between her teeth again.
I shifted once more, lifting my hand to her right cheek. The simple touch sent a shudder through her. “I’m right, aren’t I, Princess?”
“Maybe…maybe I came here for…for conversation.”
“To talk?” I almost laughed again. “About what?”
“Lots of things.”
Fighting a smile, I said, “Like?”
Her throat worked on a delicate swallow. “Why did you choose to work on the Rise?”
“You came here tonight to ask that?” I asked more dryly than anything Kieran could’ve said, but it was clear by her stare alone that she expected an answer. So, I gave her the same one I gave anyone who asked. “I joined the Rise for the same reason most do.”
“And what is that?” she asked.
The lie came all too easily. “My father was a farmer, and that was not the life for me. There aren’t many other opportunities offered than joining the Royal Army and protecting the Rise, Princess.”
“You’re right.”
Surprise flickered through me. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, there aren’t many chances for children to become something other than what their parents were.”
“You mean there aren’t many chances for children to improve their stations in life, to do better than those who came before them?”
She gave a short nod. “The…the natural order of things doesn’t exactly allow that. A farmer’s son is a farmer or they—”
The natural order of things? For Solis, perhaps. “They choose to become a guard, where they risk their lives for stable pay that they most likely won’t live long enough to enjoy. Doesn’t sound much like an option, does it?”
“No,” she said, sending yet another ripple of surprise through me. I hadn’t, even for one moment, considered that the Maiden spent a second thinking about those who guarded the city. None of those close to the Blood Crown did. “There may not be many choices, but I still think—no, I know—that joining the guard requires a certain level of innate strength and courage.”
“You think that of all the guards? That they are courageous?”
“I do.”
“Not all guards are good men, Princess,” I said, meaning the words.
Her eyes narrowed. “I know that. Bravery and strength do not equal goodness.”
“We can agree on that.” My gaze lowered to her mouth.
“You said your father was a farmer. Is he…has he gone to the gods?”
My father was a god among men to many. “No. He is alive and well. Yours?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“My father—both of my parents are gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, knowing that her parents had died many years ago. “The loss of a parent or a family member lingers long after they’re gone, the pain lessening but never fading. Years later, you’ll still find yourself thinking that you’d do anything to get them back.”
Her gaze flicked over my face. “You sound like you know firsthand.”
“I do,” I said, refusing to think about any of that.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for whoever it is that you’ve lost. Death is…”
I tilted my head. “Death is like an old friend who pays a visit, sometimes when it’s least expected and other times when you’re waiting for her. It’s neither the first nor the last time she’ll pay a visit, but that doesn’t make any death less harsh or unforgiving.”