Page 52 of The Prince's Curse

A faint blush colored his cheeks. Clearly, Lady Galax had her own ideas about what would happen next. And she approved.

Haldric struggled to tamp down his growing nerves as he followed Katalin to an unfamiliar part of the estate that he assumed housed the family’s private chambers. Sure enough, Katalin stopped before a door with a rose carved into it and led him inside.

The sitting room within was more austere than he’d expected, the shelves and chairs chosen for comfort rather than appearance. He grinned when he spied a shelf containing clay figures of dragons, hippogriffs, and other magical creatures. It fit the adventurous, inquisitive spirit he’d seen her display today.

He settled onto a two-person seat beside Katalin. Her hip pressed against his, and his smile faded, the fluttering nerves in his gut multiplying.

Desperately searching the room for anything to focus on other than the beautiful woman beside him, his gaze settled on a decanter of golden liquid on a nearby table.

Katalin reached for him, resting a hand on his arm, and he jerked to his feet, striding over to the table. His heart pounded as he picked up the decanter.

“Perhaps a toast,” he said with forced cheer. “To…to celebrate our fledging union.”

He unstopped the container and grabbed a glass from beside it. The amber liquid smelled sweet, of honey and other herbs. A hand rested on his back, and he jumped, sloshing a bit of it. He spun to find Katalin standing there.

“Perhaps I was too brazen to suggest we come here,” she said gently. “We don’t have to do anything tonight you’re not comfortable with.”

His grip on the decanter tightened. “I assure you, Lady Katalin, I am committed to this alliance.”

A slight furrow marred her brow. “As am I. But we’ve only just met. No matter what Mother intends,wedecide the pace of our engagement, not her, your father, or anyone else.” She gestured at the bottle in his hands, her grin resurfacing. “So, why don’t you set that golden clove tea down and relax?”

His face flushed as he looked down at the bottle. That explained the smell. So much for alcohol to numb his senses—not that that had been a particularly good plan to begin with.

Sighing, he returned the bottle to the table. “Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to ruin your night.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She gripped his hand. “Today is only our first meeting. No doubt we’ll have plenty more over the coming months as proper arrangements are made.” She raised an eyebrow, her blue eyes twinkling. “After all, I’ve heard royal weddings are no small affair.”

He managed a weak chuckle. “Indeed, they are not. Still, you deserve better than a hesitant groom.Hey!”

He stared at her in shock as she withdrew the hand she’d just yanked from his grip and used to swat him. Her eyes narrowed on him playfully.

“Why don’t you letmebe the judge of what I deserve? Trust me, I have no illusions about why either of us are doing this. Your family desires funds and a closer connection with Khordan while my family yearns for increased legitimacy to bolster our standing among the other noble houses. Neither love nor romance need factor into it…at least, not yet. We’ll have plenty of time forthatover the coming years. After all, we’ll have a lifetime to learn to like one another.”

Her coy grin made it clear she’d intended that last part as a joke. Nevertheless, the notion stole Haldric’s breath.

A lifetime…

The crown had seemed a heavy burden ever since he was named heir, but suddenly, it felt like a prison sentence, stretching out infinitely ahead of him.

Sketching a hasty bow, he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. “Excuse me, my lady, but I think it best I retire to my own chambers.”

Her smile faltered a fraction even as she nodded. “Of course. It’s been a pleasure spending today with you, Haldric. I’ll see you tomorrow ere you depart.”

Jerking a nod, he strode to the door with the most dignity he could muster and, with one final muttered apology, fled into the night.

nineteen

Benjin

Benjin propped his chinon his folded arms and stared at the parcel that Percival had packed for the Grand Magus. Whatever lay inside had been masked from prying eyes. The only way to learn more would be to open it.

While he knew he should leave well enough alone, part of him was sorely tempted to check out its contents.

Anything to take my mind off that terrible dinner.

The food somehow managed to be both too bland and overly styled for his tastes. He’d never felt as awkward as he had crammed in there with Marshal Fendrel on one side and those Order paladins on the other. And Haldric…

A flush crept up his neck while his fingers squeezed the edge of the table. Well, the Void-cursed prince was free to do whatever he liked, wasn’t he? It’s not as if it was any of Benjin’s business. He was a glorified courier and bodyguard on this mission—nothing more.

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