Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(24)

“In love?” Aron finished for her.

She blinked and nodded, casting her eyes to the ornately tiled marble floor. “I don’t know what to say.”

She waited for Aron to say something, to take the pressure off and ease her anxiety, but he stayed quiet. Finally she braved a glance at him.

He studied her, his brow furrowed. “You want to ask your father not to make the announcement, don’t you?”

She swallowed hard. “If we’re both in agreement, then it’ll be simpler to convince him that this isn’t the right time.”

“This has to do with what happened in Paelsia, doesn’t it?”

She flicked her gaze to his. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you do. You’re upset about what happened to someone of no consequence to your life. Do you cry over felled deer as well? Do you sob into your plate every night when you’re served dinner from a hunt?”

Her cheeks flushed. “It’s hardly the same thing, Aron.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Killing a deer, killing that boy—felt as if it had about as much significance to me, one to the other. I think you simply lack the right perspective. You’re too young.”

She bristled. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“It’s enough for me to be able to see the world a bit more clearly.” He closed the distance between them and grasped her chin. His skin smelled of smoke. “I won’t agree to tell the king I don’t want this. Because I do want this.”

“You want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Are you in love with me?”

Aron’s lips curved. “Oh, Cleo. You’re lucky you’re beautiful. It absolves you of many shortcomings.”

She glared at him and pushed back, but he just dug his fingers in harder—almost, but not quite, hard enough to hurt. His intentions were clear—he didn’t want her to move.

“I remember that night, Cleo. It’s crystal clear in my mind.”

She gasped. “Don’t speak of it.”

“We’re alone. Nobody’s here to listen in.” His gaze fell on her lips. “You wanted that to happen between us. Don’t try to deny it.”

Her cheeks flamed. “I’d had too much wine. I wasn’t thinking straight. I regret it.”

“So you say. But it happened. You and me, Cleo. We were meant to be together. That was only a taste.” He raised an eyebrow. “Had your father picked anyone but me as your betrothed, I might have had to say something. I know you wouldn’t have liked that. You don’t want the king to know that his perfect princess had tarnished herself in the bed of someone who was not to become her husband.”

She barely remembered that night six months ago, only that there was wine—too much of it. And lips that tasted like smoke. A fumbling of hands, of clothes, of lies whispered in the darkness.

A proper girl—a princess—was meant to remain pure and untouched until her wedding night—her virginity a gift to her husband. That Cleo had made such a mistake with someone like Aron, whom she could barely tolerate while sober, shamed her like nothing else. No one could ever know about this.

She pushed his hand away, her cheeks flaming. “I must go.”

“Not yet.” Aron closed the distance between them and pulled her tight against his chest, digging his hand into her long hair to pull it from its loose twist so it hung freely to her waist. “I’ve missed you, Cleo. And I am glad you came to see me in private this morning. I think about you often.”

“Let me leave,” she whispered. “And say nothing about this.”

He caressed the side of her throat, his gaze darkening. “Once we’re engaged, I’ll ensure moments of privacy like this will be much more frequent. I look forward to that.”

Cleo tried to push against his chest, but he was strong. Stronger than he looked. She’d only succeeded in reminding him of the night she’d shamed herself and her family. He seemed to relish this secret they shared while she would rather purge it from her mind forever.

And, goddess, his breath smelled like he’d been drinking and smoking since sunrise.

There was a sharp knock on the partially open door. Aron’s fingers dug into her sides, and he cast a dark look over his shoulder as the door creaked open.

“There you are, princess,” Theon said casually.

Aron let her go so abruptly that she had to struggle to keep her balance and not go sprawling to the floor.

Theon looked from her to Aron and his eyes narrowed. “Is everything well here?”

“Well. It’s well,” she replied, throat full. “Very well. Thank you.”

His fierce expression showed that he didn’t find any humor in the thought that she’d snuck off behind his back. In fact, his gaze was hot enough to burn.

Still, she was more than happy to leave with her angry bodyguard than stay here a moment longer with Aron.

“I want to go back to the palace,” she said firmly.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now.” She straightened her shoulders and glanced at Aron.

He looked bored. On the surface, anyway. Deep in his eyes was an unpleasant flicker—an unspoken promise that the drunken night she wanted to forget would only be the first of many between them. She shuddered.