Page 49 of Ruby & Onyx

But now that he’s standing in front of me, taunting me with that beautiful smile, I feel myself sinking back into that trap. There’s beauty baked into his every feature from the chiseled lines of his jaw to the fullness of his lips. Hell, even the arrogant swagger that drives me mad also makes me want him. I want to touch the bulge of those muscled arms that strain against his sleeves. I want to press my chest against his…

No, snap out of it.

“To answer your question, I was called to the border to meet with the royal guard stationed there. The Mad King is planning something, and we need to be prepared,” he says, seemingly unaffected by the carnal pull that’s distracting me.

Thinking about the Mad King’s plans is one way to pull me out of that lust-struck fever. “What do you think he’s planning?”

His smile fades as he lets out a labored breath. Exhaustion and frustration etch on his face as if he’s spent long days endlessly discussing this exact subject. “I don’t know the specifics, but our scouts and informants reported that they’re doubling their weaponry production and are recruiting able-bodied men into their armies. Not to mention,” his voice lowers, “one of our scouts had their head returned to us on a pike.”

The image makes my stomach squeeze.

“What do we do if they attack?”

“We fight.”

“But I don’t know how to fight.”

“You won’t need to. There are over a thousand miles between Somne and the western border and over a hundred thousand bodies armed and ready to prevent them from getting even remotely close to you. You are the last person in Mendacia that needs to worry about an attack.”

I notice a slight twitch in his eye.

I should know how to fight whether or not others will defend me. I need to know how to defend myself. “And what if I want to learn?”

“War is for men. You’ll be much safer and happier here, far away from the action. Worrying doesn’t suit you, Radya.”

“That’s not fair. You’ve said it before - King Caelis has an interest in me, which makes me a target. If even one invader, or even a traitor within our ranks, makes his way close to me, I’d be as good as gone. And, have you forgotten that the praecian warriors are all women?” I’ll have to thank Liliana for sharing that tidbit of information.

“The praecian warriors are women with exceptional magic, mind you.” He pauses, surveying my determination. “Do you think that I can’t defend you?”

“Why is it that men always think they are the only defense a woman needs? If I can do it myself, then I’d like to. And besides, if you’re away at the border, fighting your manly war, then you won’t be here to defend me. I need to learn to do it myself.”

He crosses his arms across his chest as his gaze runs up and down my body, scrutinizing. “Okay, Princess. If you’d like to learn to fight, then meet me on the rooftop at first light tomorrow. We’ll see if you have what it takes.”

“You don’t think I’m serious, do you?”

“I didn’t say that.” He didn’t need to. That single eyebrow curves high with doubt, telling me everything he refuses to say.

“I can tell. You don’t think that I have what it takes to defend myself.”

“We’ll find out how true that statement is when you show up tomorrow.”

“Fine, see you then.” I will be there, and I will learn. If an attack comes tomorrow, then at least I can die knowing that I tried.

Chapter 22

The air is crisp with the tidings of fall. And as the sun begins its descent below the earth, a golden aura casts over the bridge and glistens atop the water’s surface like dancing water flies. The young couple walking across the stony slope spies me and releases their entwined hands to wave. I don’t recognize them, but my hand naturally lifts to return the gesture.

From this spot on the balcony, it’s easy to attract attention. That’s why we chose to live here. It’s at the very center of the city’s core, right along the river. We are surrounded by the people, and we are one with them. How can one know their will or understand their needs while hidden away in the towers of a distant home?

Though I may be used to being seen, noticed, acknowledged, still my heart lacks the familiarity of being known. Only one person in this realm may ever truly know me, my heart, my soul.

Perhaps it’s better that way.

I pull the shawl draped over my shoulders in closer, readjusting the broach that holds it together, and then take a sip of wine from the ivory goblet.

“Ahem,” a man clears his throat behind me. His arms wrap around my waist and squeeze into a tight hug. The warmth of his body presses against my backside as his lips graze my neck, sending a shiver of lightning to dance on my skin, tickling and tantalizing. Our bodies meld together like two pieces of a puzzle cut solely to fit each other. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but I couldn’t resist,” he whispers before nipping at my ear.

I smile so hard that my cheeks hurt, but still, I manage to say, “By all means, please interrupt.”

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