Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(123)

Somehow I manage to find a staircase that takes me out into the courtyard. I stop dead in my tracks.

The prince is in his armor, but it’s dented and torn up, the enamel scratched in long, jagged lines across the chest, the big shoulders dented in, and he’s limping, the armor quivering and seizing up as it moves. He lurches forward and stops.

The whole thing unfolds open. The helmet lifts up, the chest plate splits along a seam I couldn’t even see, and the the arms just…falls off. The prince struggles out of it, falling to the dirt almost at my feet, panting on all fours. He slowly stands up, swiping at blood from a split lip.

The look he gives me freezes the blood in my veins. I feel like a rabbit staring down a hungry fox, hoping if I stay stone still he’ll pass me by and not eat me up.

“Get it inside,” he roars in Kosztylan, his voice so loud it shocks me out of my stupefied stillness.

“Oh my God, what happened to you?”

“It’s nothing.”

As two men struggle to lift one of the armor’s arms onto a steel cart, I lean over and my eyes go wide.

“Are those bullet holes?”

“Not bullets. Twenty-millimeter shells.”

I turn back to him, staring.

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.”

He touches his forehead and his fingers come away red. He rubs them together and flicks them contemptuously.

“It’s nothing, I’m not injured. Just a scratch.”

Before I even think I rush over to him, grab his chin in my hands, and turn his head to look for myself. I can feel everyone in the courtyard sucking in a silent breath, waiting.

He isn’t wearing one of those uniforms, I realize. He must have to wear some kind of special suit inside that armor. It’s like a wetsuit, only thinner, and it clings to every sweeping line of his body. I can see veins through it, even. He’s even more ripped than I realized, solid muscle from head to toe. He smells like sweat and leather and blood.

He pushes me back, gently, and swipes at his mouth with his hand, leaving a red streak on the sleeve of his bodysuit.

“Go back to your room. Dinner is at seven. It’s five thirty.”

“What happened to you?”

“That is not your concern.”

“Are you alright?”

He sounds almost confused that I would ask. “I am fine. Do as you are told. Now.”

I flinch and, almost without thinking, bolt from the courtyard. Somehow I find the way back to the right corridor and follow it around to my room, head inside, and almost collapse onto the bench at the foot of the bed, my heart pounding a fluttery rhythm in my chest.

It hits me hard when I realize, yeah, I’m worried about him. Last night on the goat trail, it was like he didn’t even notice that those resistance men were shooting at him. No, shooting him, they were hitting the armor, I remember it. What were those big marks on the chest and arms of the armor?

Matters of state? Matters of state? He could have been killed!

I sit back and stare at nothing.

What the hell do you care, Penny? You just want to go home.

Questions swirl around in my mind, like leaves caught in a dust devil. I lean over my knees and hold my head in my hands. Who was that girl? What’s up with those books? They looked like… I don’t want to say what they looked like.

I…need to change. I need to shower first, I feel sweaty and grubby. I make it a quick one and peer out from the bathroom to make sure the prince didn’t decide to just barge into my room again. After I dry off I clothe myself, and not in the cream-colored dress, but a powder-blue one that laces up the sides.

I look as stupid in this princess dress and matching slippers as I did the other one. I don’t know why I picked this one. It has a plunging neckline and the sleeves are low on my shoulders. I do almost like the way it looks, though. It suits my frame, I guess. My mom always told me I should show off my shoulders, don’t ask me why.

I pace around the room, going in circles until it feels like I must have worn holes in the soles of my slippers. I almost jump when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in?”

The prince opens the door and takes a single step inside, then stops, openly staring at me. I feel a flush creeping up my neck and realize I’m blushing.

Oh for God’s sake, Penny.

It hits me hard when I realize that I’m actually, straight-up relieved to see him.

A deep breath and then I walk up to him.

“You’re not hurt?”

“Why do you care?”

The coldness in his voice stings me a little.

“You may not be my favorite person, but you’re still a person. I wouldn’t wish any harm on you.”

He blinks a few times. “That was rude of me. Forgive me.”

He offers his arm and I take it.

“I want you to speak with the cooks.”

“Why?”

“I want them to prepare something you’d like. I didn’t want to presume. Some sort of American cuisine. Forgive me, but I thought it would be somewhat patronizing to have them make cheeseburgers.”

“I could go for a cheeseburger,” I admit. “A double. No, a triple. With Velveeta, ketchup, and mayonnaise, fries on the side, and a large chocolate milkshake. A real glutton monster burger that I couldn’t even finish.”