Page 52 of Ruby & Onyx

“Everything seems to come so naturally to you.” When I look at him, I don’t see inner turmoil. I see confidence and strength. Does he get nervous like I do?

“Benefit of being raised as a prince,” he shrugs and tries to lift a smile to his lips, but a hint of something sad and darkened by shadows prevents it.

We sit there for a moment, staring into each other’s souls, neither of us daring to speak. In the past, I might have walked away from this conversation, too afraid to press deeper, but I’m tired of being alone. It may be a mistake, and it may hurt, but I want to keep the door open. “Why don’t we forget about that night and choose to move forward? We can get to know each other not as a prince and his chosen bride, but as friends. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Friends that kiss?” He jests playfully, the arrogant smirk returning to his face.

“Olly!” I exclaim, trying to conceal my laughter. As much as I push against his ruthless flirtation, I can’t deny that I also relish it.

“Sorry, it’s a habit.” He shrugs like a child caught stealing a treat, and we both burst into a fit of laughter. His head cocks back in the thralls of it. And when he finally regains composure, he says, “We can take as much time as you need, Radya.”

The way that he says my name sends a delicious shiver down my spine. Maybe we could be more than friends, after all.

Chapter 23

The sun seems to shine brighter as I wind through the hallways, returning to my room. I’m starting to learn the layout, so long as I stay on known paths. Olly and I agreed to continue training every other day, despite the desperate pleas of my throbbing muscles. The guarantee of seeing him sweaty and shirtless on a regular cadence ignites a thrill in my bones that circulates from head to toe.

The moment I open the door, a frantic Gemma rushes toward me. “There you are! I was worried sick when you weren’t in bed this morning!” Gemma sighs with seemingly equal parts exasperation and relief.

“I’m sorry! I should have told you that I was with Olly.” She must know where I am and to ensure my safety, I suppose.

Her look turns cheeky and suggestive, not too dissimilar from the face that Tana would make when suggesting something untoward happening with Lord Myles. Only, this look doesn’t provoke quite the same revolting effect.

In fact, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up in his bed.

“Not like that!” I say adamantly. “We’re training together.”

Her eyebrows remain lifted as she murmurs, “Uh huh, sure.”

I don’t need to explain myself. But at the same time, I don’t want her to get the wrong idea and start rumors. The last thing I need is for Olly to hear that I’ve been talking about him, especially when the rumor is more salacious than reality. “Seriously, we agreed to meet every other morning to train. I want to be prepared in case the day comes when I need to defend myself. That’s all.”

“Whatever you say,” she replies in a way that suggests very little confidence.

“Where is Viola?” I ask to change the subject. Though, this might be the first time I’ve seen the two of them apart.

“She’s not feeling well, but she should be back on her feet tomorrow.” Gemma flashes an assuring smile, quickly returning to her regular perky demeanor. “Would you like a bath?”

“Oh, yes,” I say, and a flash of embarrassment pulses through me as I realize how badly I smell. The workout left a sheen of dried sweat over my skin and a lingering smell to match.

Gemma saunters toward the bathroom.

And suddenly, like a whisper in the wind, the prophecy rattles through my mind. Having almost forgotten about it after such an eventful morning, the words now bring a familiar and distinctive sense of unease. The last time I broached the subject with the twins, Viola was hesitant to offer too much information. Gemma, on the other hand, seemed much more inclined to help.

“Are you excited for the ball this weekend?” Gemma shouts over the sound of running water, snapping my attention back to the present.

“A ball? Like a dance?” Nobody mentioned a ball to me. If they had, I would have declined the invitation immediately. The list of things I’d rather do than attend a ball – and dance in public – would stretch from coast to coast.

“Yes, a dance! His Royal Highness is hosting a masked ball in your honor this Saturday evening. All of Somne is invited! There will be all sorts of decadent food and dancing and bubbly!” Her voice is brimming with excitement as if she’s looking forward to it. And though she is out of sight, I can hear her footsteps shuffling around, dancing and twirling to the beat of a silent melody.

A bundle of tightly wound nerves unspools within my core, bringing a wave of nausea with it. If the ball is to be held in my honor, then all eyes will be on me. I haven’t danced in years! Even then, I was secluded in the confines of my home with no fear of being overseen. And if I refuse to dance, sticking to the sidelines for the duration, then I would have to talk to strangers, surely.

Either way, I will be a disappointment to all in attendance, and they will see right through me. This whole sham – the ludicrous idea that I could be queen – might finally come to an end.

“Will you be there?” If I must embarrass myself publicly, then having at least one friendly face in the crowd might be a saving grace.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A light hum now accompanies her rhythmic steps.

“Good, I’m glad.” I am. I don’t think I could do this without her.

---