Like he might care a lot about how I answered it.
I reached over and picked up the bottle of liqueur, draining the dregs of it to give me the type of courage I normally never had. I could feel my heartbeat in every inch of my body.
I was actually going to do something. For once in my life. No matter how terrifying it was.
I leaned forward and closed the distance between me and Henry, pausing for a millisecond with my lips just in front of his. I hung in the moment, like I was waiting for some sort of signal. I could smell cocoa and orange liqueur.
And then I felt it: his hand at the side of my face, gently cupping my cheek. It was all the signal I needed.
I let out a small sigh as I pressed my lips to his.
My heart skipped a beat as I felt the rush of warmth of his lips on mine. He was always warmer than me; of course his lips were no different. Having his mouth on mine activated something inside me, like a small glowing light finally flickering on for the first time.
And I realized I should have started kissing him a long time ago.
Kissing Henry didn’t feel scary. It didn’t feel like something forbidden or wrong or like breaking a rule.
It felt right, actually. Deep in my bones.
Like kissing my best friend. Kissing the one person I knew cared about me. The real me.
I was so turned on it almost ached, but that wasn’t even the most important thing. All I could think, over and over again, was that this was where I belonged.
He kissed me back, slow and sweet, then kept his lips soft as he pulled away.
“Sebastian…” he said, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it. “You never told me you…”
He trailed off, his eyes searching mine again. We were still so close, and I realized I was holding the top of his forearm gently, like if I let go he might fade away like a dream.
“I love you,” I said. My throat was tight again, but I didn’t feel like I was going to cry. More like I might explode. I wanted to stay right here forever, huddled in the snow with the one person who made me feel like I was someone, someone more than just a series of titles and a means to a legacy.
Someone who was always happy to see me. Who was always waiting for me when I came back from my trips to the castle. Who I knew would be there forever. No matter what happened.
“You know I love you, too,” Henry whispered, his eyes half-lidded as he reached out, still holding the side of my face with warm fingers.
He pulled me in close again like he needed me. His lips were on mine again, but he didn’t hold back his hunger this time, opening his mouth to me. His tongue was a flash of heat that caught me off guard, sending blood to places of my body I usually tried to ignore.
I felt the slow, hot slickness of his tongue teasing against my lower lip and I let out a groan. I wasn’t in control of my own body anymore. I was fueled by alcohol and years of built up desire, pushing Henry back onto the ground and straddling him, never letting my lips leave his.
“I want you so badly,” I murmured against his lips, threading my fingers into his stupidly soft hair.
“Jesus, Sebastian,” he breathed. “Wow. I’m… wow—I had no idea—”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “This is…”
“It’s okay, right?”
“Oh, it’s a whole lot better than okay,” he said. “Holy hell. You couldn’t have told me this before you’re set to leave for three weeks? I’m going to be crazy without you.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulling me closer again.
“Me too.”
“Let’s go to my house,” he said. “It’s freezing as fuck out here, come warm up in my bed with me.”
The idea of it alone sent my brain into a spiral of deep lust. Henry clearly had no clue how badly I wanted that, how much I had fantasized about sharing his bed for any reason other than a chaste sleepover.
I was drunk on everything. I really did want to run away with Henry. I didn’t care if I lived in a shack and never inherited any of the legacy I was promised.
I only wanted him. Needed him.
When I heard a tight gasp I barely registered it. I was lost in Henry until I heard the sharp, piercing voice from behind us.
“Sebastian?” she said, her tone cold as ice.
My heart shattered as soon as I caught up to reality. I froze in place like a deer caught in light, pushing myself up to a sitting position and staring down at Henry with wide eyes.
“No,” Henry whispered, his eyes slowly closing as he realized what was going on.
“Sebastian Ambrose,” my mother’s voice came from behind me. “It is you.”
Suddenly I was being ripped upward by the back of my coat. My mother’s grip had always been preternaturally strong, despite her thin frame.
There was no use fighting. I stumbled as I came to a standing position, unable to look Henry in the eyes as he got up.
My mom’s cold fingers were underneath my chin, then, tossing my head up like I was a broken wooden puppet.
Her eyes were like spikes going straight through me as she glared at me. Her white-blonde hair whipped around her in the wind, her face twisted into a cruel frown.
“So this is why you like this godforsaken village so much,” she said. She glanced down at the nearly empty bottle of liqueur, giving it a kick with the pointed toe of her boot.
“Mrs. Ambrose, it wasn’t his fault,” Henry protested from behind me.
“That is Queen Charlotte Ambrose to you, boy,” she spat at Henry.
“Stop,” I said, the word coming out more like a meager gasp.
“You have to believe me,” he said, not backing down.
“Not a word from you,” she told Henry, her eyes pinned on me again. “You are drunk. You’re out late at night alone. You’re on top of another boy, your tongue in his mouth—”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Henry repeated, steadfast this time. “The bottle was mine. I started everything. Don’t blame him.”
She didn’t even acknowledge Henry. His words flew right past her.
“This is not how the King of Frostmonte behaves,” my mother said, pulling her handkerchief out of her coat pocket and harshly brushing dirt off the side of my face.
“I’m not the King,” I said.
“But you are a prince,” she said, her voice sharp. “A prince that will one day be king. And no matter how much you deny it, Sebastian, it is your destiny.”
The cloth was rough and dry as she scrubbed at my face more than she needed to. It was like she was trying to rub a stain out of a dress. “Unacceptable in every way. What if someone saw you?”
“See you tomorrow, Sebastian,” Henry said, leaning to whisper in my ear as he squeezed the small of my back where my mother wouldn’t notice.
“Don’t go—”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Henry repeated to my mother before he took off across the street. My heart felt empty without him nearby, already.
“Why are you even here?” I finally managed to muster.
She froze, her eyes boring into me like twin icicles. “You’re coming home with me to the castle.”
“I’m going back tomorrow,” I said.
“Tonight,” she said, her voice final. “Right now. And you will stay in the castle. No more of this village nonsense. You’re a prince, and it’s finally time to act like one.”