The Wild Heir(43)

“Hammering out the details, huh? So that’s what this is.”

“More or less.”

“Definitely less hammering than I’m used to.”

She shakes her head at that and a piece of golden hair falls in front of her eyes. She blows it off her face.

She does a really good job of not looking at me most of the time. Which spurs my first question. “Okay. Question tiiime.”

She swallows uneasily but sits up straighter. “What?” she asks, staring at the fire.

I rub my lips together, trying to figure out the best way to get an answer. “Ella—oh, yes, that’s the other thing, we have to use each other’s names. Nicknames will suffice too. Okay, Ella…do I make you uncomfortable?”

She balks at that. “What?”

“You heard me. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” she says. Her answer is weak.

“Ella…be truthful. Don’t make me call you Princess Lying Pants.” I lean forward with my elbows on my thighs, watching her try not to twitch.

She exhales sharply through her nose, taking a moment, her dark eyes seeming to wrestle with the truth. Finally she says, “Okay, a little.” She glances at me and for once seems apologetic. “I’m just…you’re very different from me. You’re older. You’re, well, a bloody prince. You’re…look, I don’t have a lot of experience with men like you.”

“Or men in general?”

“Is that an official question?”

“No.” I have to save my questions. I have a lot.

“Anyway, yeah. I guess. I guess I’m just socially awkward or something.” At that she finishes the rest of her drink and doesn’t even wince.

I’m impressed.

“You didn’t seem awkward at dinner with my family,” I tell her honestly. “And that wasn’t your average dinner with your average family either.”

She shrugs and glances at me. There’s a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It’s fucking beautiful. “I don’t know. I guess I just felt comfortable with them. Like they wanted me there, and no matter what I said or how weird I got about some things, they didn’t seem to judge me.” She pauses, looking away. “At least I hope they didn’t. They might be excellent actors. I guess you would have to be to be a royal.”

“That’s not true,” I tell her. “I’m a horrible actor.”

She tilts her head and glances at me thoughtfully. “I don’t know about that. I saw your public apology and I almost believed it.”

“See?” I point my glass at her. “Almost.”

“Well anyway, you were believable.”

“I’ll have you know that I was being honest in that apology.”

“Right.”

“It’s true,” I tell her, my blood getting hot over that remark. “I am sorry it happened. I’m sorry for the people it embarrassed, especially my family. How the fuck was I to know something I did in private would be shared with the world?”

“Is that a question?” she asks wryly.

“No.” I take in a deep breath. “No. It’s just…I didn’t mean for that to happen. And I care what you think about me.”

She laughs. “Are you serious?” Her eyes are wide and shining. “You don’t seem to care about anything.”

I consider that. “Maybe I should care more about certain things. But you don’t know what goes on in my head. It’s a fucked up place to be. I care deeply about a lot of things.”

“Like what?” she asks, tucking her leg under and facing me head on, suddenly interested.

“Is that an official question?”

She shakes her head. “No. Like you were before, I’m just curious.”

“I don’t know.” I mean, how do you explain what you care about? Where do you start? Where do you stop? “I care a lot about my family. My father. My mother. My sisters. They mean the world to me.”

“That I gathered,” she says. “Considering you’re getting married because of them.” She seems to think about that. “Can I ask you a question? Officially?”

“You have to sing it.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s the rules. For the first question of the bunch, you have to sing it. It’s like the official announcement. Or battle cry, depending on how things go.”

She’s not impressed but she takes in a deep breath and goes, “Question time.”

“No, no, no.” I raise my finger high in the air. “You have to sing it…question tiiime. Like in this high voice at the end, really drag it out. And you have to raise your finger in the air.”

“This is ridiculous. You sound like Nic Cage.”

“That’s exactly who you need to emulate.”

“Fine.” She raises her finger in the air, brows raised expectantly. “Question tiiime.”

“Perfect.” But inside I am laughing my ass off because she just did a pretty damn good impression of Nic Cage.

“My question, Magnus,” she says, her face going serious, “do you want to be king?”

Obviously I’ve been asked that question a lot, always by my family. This is the first time an outsider has asked me and I’m not sure how truthful I should be. What if I do end up marrying Ella and I am the king?