The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(59)
What kind of business could you possibly have asking all these questions? Nessa stared Dinah down, but the older woman never looked her way.
“Important royal business.” Kellan was using his I’m-the-prince-don’t-you-dare-argue tone of voice. Once upon a time, Blue had found that tone insufferable. Now she cheerfully wished Dinah luck in getting around Kellan when he’d made up his mind.
Dinah gave Blue another look, one that promised retribution, and then curtsied to the prince and stalked out of the shop. Kellan immediately turned to Nessa and said, “I’ll have the guards bring you back to the castle.”
What about you?
His eyes met Blue’s, and that traitorous heat danced through her veins as he said, “Like I said, I have business with Blue.”
TWENTY-FIVE
KELLAN PROWLED THE storeroom, looking at the shelves, the stove, the potion books . . . anything but Blue. His restless energy filled the space, humming through the air like a chord Blue was just beginning to understand. Nessa had left several minutes earlier with her guards. A pair still waited outside to escort their prince home. Dinah was long since gone.
The silence expanded between them, a bubble that pressed against Blue until she itched to just pop it and be done with the strange tension that filled her body like lightning skimming over her skin.
“Are you just going to examine my storeroom all night?” she asked.
“Maybe.” He stared resolutely at a row of empty jars.
Why wouldn’t he look at her? And why did the thought of what might be in his eyes make her cheeks feel like she’d been hovering above a hot stove?
“Why are you here?” she asked before she could think better of it.
He moved away from the shelf and tapped his long fingers against the potion books that still lay on the worktable. “I came because Nessa said you might need help with Dinah.”
She folded her arms across her chest and said, “I know why you came. I want to know why you’re still here.”
“I don’t know.” He flung the words at her and then cradled his head in his hands and whispered, “I don’t know.”
His shoulders bowed as if carrying a burden he could no longer bear, and she hurried to his side. Laying her hand on his arm, she asked quietly, “Are you all right?”
“Do you know how I spent my last few days?”
Her cheeks warmed at the memory of hiding in the maid’s closet with him, feeling the weight of his body pressing against hers while he whispered in her ear, sending shivers of delicious heat through her. Ordering her voice not to betray her thoughts, she said, “Tell me.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and then let it come to rest on top of hers. “I met with the Marcels to discuss what benefits their family could bring to the throne. I had lunch with the Gaillards and their extended family, all of whom made sure to make their family’s wealth and influence perfectly clear, and then I met with the royal magistrate to discuss the rule of law regarding the transfer of power from my mother to myself and to organize the search for the witch who cast those terrible spells across the city.”
His fingers slowly twined with hers, and he turned her hand over so that her palm was pressed against his. She sucked in a little breath at the sudden jolt of fire that sizzled through her veins. He raised his head and looked her in the eyes for the first time since Nessa’s departure.
“I held royal council meetings, revoked a council member’s representative privileges, and attended an afternoon tea where I charmed the Roches, the Gaillards, the Evrards, the Perrins, and even Dinah Chauveau. I tiptoed through questions designed to trap me into an early commitment, steered conversations away from anything that might inflame more tensions between the head families, and danced with every girl in the room, all while fielding baited questions about my handling of interkingdom trade agreements, the hunt for the witch, and of course which families would get future royal contracts.”
His thumb traced a circle over the back of her hand, and her stomach danced in slow, lazy circles. “I even nearly kissed my friend in a maid’s closet.”
She tried to smile, though there was a question in his eyes she wasn’t sure how to answer. “I’m sure that wasn’t a first for you.”
“Oh, it was. First time I wanted a kiss for reasons that were real.” He gave her a ghost of his charming smile, then let it die. “Blue, I don’t know what to do.”
She swallowed hard. Trying for a steady, calm voice, she said, “What do you want to do?”
His gaze met hers and held. His brown eyes were full of longing, and her foolish heart leaped because apparently she didn’t care that he was a prince and she was a commoner. That he was set to be betrothed to someone else and she was set to live a quiet life with her alchemy, her farmhouse, and her one-eyed cat. That it was impossible.
Quietly, he said, “I don’t get to do what I want. I have to do what the kingdom needs.”
What did that mean? That he wanted her too? Or was he still talking through his problems with his friend?
She frowned. “So then you’re here because . . . ?”
He was silent for so long, she didn’t think he’d answer, and then he finally said, “Because while I was meeting with the Marcels, I was wondering if you liked picnics. And while I was lunching with the Gaillards, I kept overhearing things I wanted to share with you. And while I was dancing with every girl in the room, I kept wishing the only girl in the room was you.”