Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)(61)

“Indeed,” I said coolly. “You’ve been trying to pass similar legislation for years, have you not, Mr. Speaker? It does seem it could benefit from new ideas.”

Erhall’s mouth tightened, but his voice was deceptively light when he responded. “I hope you enjoyed the ball, Your Highness. Husband hunting is surely a top priority for a princess.”

Everyone knew the true purpose of the ball, but no one was stupid or untactful enough to voice it out aloud…except for Erhall, who wielded enough power he could get away with insulting the crown princess at her own party. There were even rumors he might be the next Prime Minister when he inevitably ran for the office.

I resisted the urge to slap him. That would play right into his game. No one would be happier than Erhall if my public image took a hit, which it would if I was caught attacking the Speaker of Parliament on my birthday.

“Let me be frank, Your Highness.” Erhall smoothed his tie. “You are a lovely young woman, but being the monarch of Eldorra requires more than a pretty face. You have to understand the politics, the dynamics, the serious issues at hand. Your brother was trained for it, but you haven’t even lived in Eldorra for the past few years. Don’t you think it would be best if you handed the responsibilities of the crown to someone more suited to the role?”

“Who might that be?” My voice dripped poisonous honey. “Someone male, I presume.”

It was unbelievable we were having this conversation, but no one had ever accused Parliament of moving forward with the times.

Erhall smiled, wise enough not to give a direct answer. “Whoever you think best, Your Highness.”

“Let me be clear, Mr. Speaker.” My face was hot and blotchy from humiliation, but I pushed past it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing he’d gotten under my skin. “I have no intention of abdicating, stepping aside, or handing my responsibilities to anyone else.” No matter how much I want to. “One day, I’ll sit on the throne, and you’ll have to answer to me—if you are still in power then.” Erhall’s face darkened at my not-so-subtle dig. “Therefore, it’s best for everyone involved if we have a civil relationship.” I paused, then added, “On that note, I suggest monitoring your tone when speaking with me or any member of the royal family. You are a guest here. That’s it.”

“You—” Erhall took a step toward me, then blanched and quickly stepped back.

Rhys came up beside me, his face expressionless but his eyes darker than a thundercloud. “Is he bothering you, Your Highness?”

Erhall glared at him but wisely kept his mouth shut.

“No. The Speaker was just leaving.” I flashed a polite smile. “Weren’t you, Mr. Speaker?”

The Speaker’s lips thinned. He gave me a tight nod and a curt “Your Highness” before spinning on his heel and marching away.

“What did he say to you?” Menace rolled off Rhys in palpable waves, and I was certain he would hunt Erhall down and snap his neck if I gave the okay.

“Nothing worth repeating. Really,” I repeated when Rhys continued glaring at the spot where Erhall had stood. “Forget about him.”

“He was about to grab you.”

“He wouldn’t have.” I wasn’t sure what Erhall had planned to do before Rhys showed up, but he was too savvy to lose his cool in public. “Please, drop it. I just want to sleep. It’s been a long night.”

I didn’t want to waste more energy on Erhall. He wasn’t worth it.

Rhys complied, though he didn’t look happy about it. Then again, he rarely looked happy.

He escorted me to my room, and when we arrived at my door, he pulled something out of his suit pocket.

“Your birthday present,” he said gruffly, handing me a rolled-up sheet of paper tied with a ribbon. “Nothing fancy, but I had it and thought you might like it.”

My breath caught. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

We never bought each other birthday presents. The most we did was buy each other a meal, and even then, we pretended it was for something other than the other’s birthday.

“It’s not a big deal.” Rhys watched, shoulders tense, while I carefully untied the ribbon and unrolled the paper.

Once I saw what was on it, I gasped.

It was me.

A drawing of me, to be exact, in a pool surrounded by hills with the ocean in the distance. Head tipped back, smile on my face, looking freer and happier than I ever remembered feeling. The curve of my lips, the sparkle in my eyes, even the tiny mole beneath my ear…

He’d captured it all in exquisite, painstaking detail, and looking at me through his eyes, I believed I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

“It’s not jewelry or anything like that,” Rhys said. “Keep it if you want or toss it. I don’t care.”

“Toss it?” I clutched the drawing to my chest. “Are you kidding? Rhys, this is beautiful.”

My words hung in the air, and we realized at the same time I’d called him by his name again. My first time doing so since Costa Rica.

But it felt right because, at that moment, he wasn’t Mr. Larsen. He was Rhys.

And Rhys had given me the best gift I’d ever received. He was right—it wasn’t a fancy purse or diamond jewelry, but I would much rather have one sketch from him than a hundred Tiffany diamonds.