Page 92 of A Game of Veils

I grimace at the reminder of my injuries, and the image floats up of a recent time when he took several wounds of his own. “Why do you fight in the exhibitions? Doesn’t that just serve Emperor Tarquin’s purposes?”

He shrugs with another stroke of the brush. “It serves my purposes just as much. I’m not sure I’d have been able to survive as long as I have without hurling myself at him and his heir if I didn’t have other avenues to vent a little aggression.”

“You couldn’t find avenues that didn’t require facing off against murderous warriors and savage beasts?”

The corner of his mouth kicks upward again. “I like a challenge. As I’d think should be obvious by now, Princess.”

I suppose I walked into that one.

He moves to stand by my other shoulder, his fingertips gliding over my cheek as he gathers the hair there. More heat blooms in their wake.

“You’ve got a twig snagged in here. Maybe you do need more maids.”

I glower at him in the mirror. “There wasn’t really time for a thorough job this morning. I’d appreciate you removing it now.”

Somehow he manages to detangle the scrap of wood without any painful tugs. As he resumes his brushing, he studies me in the mirror. “You asked about my battles, but you’re at least as much of a fighter as I am, even if you hide it. How did one of Elox’s lambs end up tough enough to withstand a near-poisoning and a brutal beating in the course of a few days?”

How am I supposed to answer that? I tuck my hands together on my lap, my thumb running over my ring. “Elox doesn’t reward weakness. There’s a different sort of strength in being able to endure, to hold steady through chaos.”

“Somehow I doubt most of even his clerics could have handled this situation with as much grace as you have. You’d put them to shame.”

My mouth twists with a bittersweet smile. “I’m also the second princess of a conquered country. I’ve known from the start that my purpose will mean submitting to someone else’s needs. And I had many years to prepare for that future, even if I didn’t know exactly who or what it would entail until recently.”

Unlike four seven-year-old boys who were thrown into this life before they’d had much chance to understand anything at all.

Raul’s hand stills for a moment. “It shouldn’t have to be like that. It’s your life as much as your kingdom’s.”

“No, it’s not.”

I thought that once. For a short, glimmering stretch of time, I imagined a different kind of future.

I imagined, and the gods reminded me just how futile it was. Just how tragic those hopes could be.

It’s better that I learned the costs of selfishness before I strayed down that path too far to recover.

Raul makes a rough sound. “You deserve better. In every way. You’re so much more than a pawn.”

“Sometimes a pawn is needed to make the winning move,” I say softly. “It’s not a role without any rewards.”

He scowls and runs the brush through my hair once more. Despite his obvious frustration, the stroke is no less gentle than those before.

Even though he scoffed at my request, he’s handled me so tenderly my entire body has lit up. He hasn’t made a move beyond what I asked for.

This time, I can’t tamp down on the swell of desire. As he sets the brush back on the table and straightens again, I look up at him.

His cool eyes meet mine, gleaming with a matching hunger. “What now, Princess?”

Would it be so horrible for me to claim one small reward right now?

I lift my hand toward him. “Lean closer.”

He bends down, ducking farther at my beckoning gesture. When his chin is level with my temple, I ignore the twinge in my ribs and reach up to tease my fingers into his own hair.

The cocoa-brown strands are unexpectedly silky to my touch, pulling loose from his ponytail at my careful tug. As I unfurl my fingers against his scalp, Raul exhales over me in a heated rush.

His head dips even lower. His voice comes out strained. “Aurelia…”

Heat courses straight to the meeting of my thighs. All I can manage is a whisper.

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