Page 62 of Desperately Yours

My lungs burned, reminding me I hadn’t taken a breath since he started talking. It was all too eerie. No lock that couldn’t be opened. No door that could be barred. My thoughts about security slithered through my mind, but this time I didn’t snicker. Not internally or otherwise.

Chills ran over my skin. Kabir had been supportive of Michaela and Leonidas from the start, but could it be an act? A way to stay close to the prince and monitor his movements? What better way to know the inner workings of the prince’s mind than to be in the inner circle of his life. And, in a sense, history was repeating itself, or at least trying to. Michaela was an outsider bound for the throne. Some would see it as a threat. But would they go so far as to kill her?

As we exited yet another empty room, I thought of all the time we were wasting searching this way. “I could break off, you know? Head to the tower or something. No one ever frequents that side of the palace; it would be a great place to—”

“No,” his sharp command cut me off, “protocol dictates we stay together. We only have three more rooms on this level, and then we’ll move to the next.”

I nodded slowly. “Of course. Protocol.”

There was another explanation for how someone could have transported Michaela and it had nothing to do with secret tunnels. If the head of the prince’s security had transported the unconscious maiden, no one would have batted an eye at him. If they were all under orders to eliminate her, they could carry it out, hide any evidence, and no one would ever know. Then asthey were commanded to search, they could burn time, knowing full well that a search would prove fruitless.

“Are you coming?” Kabir asked, likely noting my slowed steps and hesitation.

“Yes.” I fell in line behind him. Last thing I needed was to tip off the one who might hold Michaela’s life in his hands. At the first opportunity, I would pull away.

When those we once relied on for safety betrayed us, everyone became vulnerable.

No one was safe anymore.

Fitz

Ihated myself for the warmth that filled my chest as I took Sadira in my arms on the dance floor. If my love for Michaela were true, shouldn’t I feel nothing when I held another woman?

But I brought myself into check. This wasn’t about connection or love, simply biology. Sadira was a beautiful woman, even more so in the slender fit of her gown and the way it clung to her frame. Was it Michaela’s design? My fingers traced the silky satin at the back, as if I could reach her through her creation.

“Do you know this dance?” I kept my voice low so as not to embarrass her if she did not. The royal waltz sported a different count than the traditional waltz. Mother acted as though Sadira would be a better match, but coming from Eshein, perhaps therewas never instruction like in other provinces.

“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s not common in Eshein, but your mother sent someone to instruct me.”

Of course she did. Just another layer of her well-orchestrated plan. Over Sadira’s shoulder, I spied Mother watching us. Other nobles surrounded her, parliament members and longstanding families, it reminded me of the popular kids in the American high school I’d attended. A queen bee and her willing followers. They would do anything to stay in her good graces. I didn’t miss the way some leaned close to congratulate her on my supposed happiness. I looked away before I tipped my hand too far.

The instructor had done great work. Sadira followed like a dream. I couldn’t help but think of how badly Michaela would have flubbed the whole thing, but it wouldn’t have bothered me because along with stepping on my toes, tripping over her own feet, and possibly knocking into at least three other couples, she would have laughed through all of it. And her laughter was a gift I’d learned to treasure.

On the other side of the coin, Sadira remained rigid, guarded, and… distant. Her steps never faltered. She displayed nothing but grace in every movement, but her eyes always stared as though she was a million miles away. In fact, everything about her had become cold. I reflected on some of the other competitors whom I’d sent home.

Chantal came to one ball with me in the past. She burbled on about the clothes, the décor, the food, and when we danced, she shone brighter than the jewels in Mother’s crown. Gwen would be nervous but she loved to dance and I imagined she would have insisted we never sit, not once. Blair, Fallon, Dagny… oh, Dagny, I had to think every single one would be living for the moment and loving it. But Sadira, she wasn’t mentally in the ballroom with me. Maybe not even in the country. Not what Iwould expect from a woman with high probability of becoming queen before sunrise.

Using pressure against her back, I took us in a tight circle, forcing her attention back to the present. As we settled into the rhythm again, I chanced a question. “Did you ever think it would come to this? You and me, here at the finish line?”

In the brief second that her eyes met mine, I expected to find excitement or bashfulness like she’d shown in the past, but what I never would have predicted was the sadness that weighed her features. With a short shake of her head, she confirmed what I’d suspected. “No, Your Highness, I can honestly say this was nevermyplan.”

A weird way to emphasize her words. What was her plan if not this?

“Apologies for my bluntness, but is that regret I hear?”

“What is life without some regret, Your Highness?”

I had the distinct impression Sadira was dodging my question. I went at it from another direction. “Some is understandable, but considering the commitment looming before us, your melancholy is giving me some pause.”

I shortened the steps of our pattern, turning us into a tighter turn. Her attention was elsewhere, eyes focused on the perimeter of the room as if she were searching for someone.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I was preoccupied with my thoughts. Of course, it’s a great honor to—"

Pressure at her back, I turned us once more, stealing her focus completely as I halted us in the center of the dance floor. “I’m not asking you to shelve your feelings.” I searched her eyes, eager to see some spark, anything that would make me believe we could forge a life together. “Rather, I beg you to share them before it’s too late.”

The gaze of hundreds burned into us. The rest of the guests still danced, a swirling motion that surrounded our still figuresat the center. We stood out, unable to hide. Sadira’s eyes darted around the room, all too aware of how we were being observed. “Your Highness, I…” She couldn’t finish. Panic took hold. Fear flooded her features as her muscles tensed and tightened.

“Please,” I tried once more to draw her back to me, “no titles. Just talk to me.”

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