Page 34 of Rise of a Fallen Man

Aware of the effect her words had on me, Gem squeezed my knee. “Everything I have done for him would be for nothing. If you don’t care about me or your own promises, Ari, at least think about him. If you keep him in the spotlight of your attention, he’ll be the one you’ll hurt the most.”

BECAUSE OF THE LINGERINGmist in the air after the earlier shower, the dinner at the palace was served indoors that night. All glass patio doors of the formal dining room were closed, and the air inside quickly turned hot and sticky.

I’d long learned not to display my feelings in public. I ate my food, smiled, talked to people whom I had little in common with on topics I didn’t care about. However, the turmoil inside me proved especially hard to contain today.

After Salas had barged back into my life—or more accurately, after I had barged into the gladiators’ quarters, tormented by worries and longing for him—he was all I could think about.

I had no doubt he held some feelings for me too. I had little experience with men, but I knew enough to realize that an indifferent man wouldn’t look at a woman the way Salas looked at me. He wouldn’t kiss me or hold me the way Salas did, if he didn’t feel at least a fraction of the affection I held for him.

A part of me wished to daydream about all the “what ifs.”

What if we could give these budding feelings a chance somehow?

What if I could whisk him away to my summer house in the countryside? Or to Father’s hunting lodge that he never visited?Or to Mother’s lake house that she used as a retreat from the city once every few years?

What if we could run away for good, leaving everything behind—his past and my responsibilities?

The direction that my thoughts had taken proved I must be losing my mind, and with it, any control of the situation. Spontaneity often bordered irresponsibility. I couldn’t afford that kind of behavior. Actions of the crown princess had far-reaching consequences with the potential to affect millions of people, not just Salas and me.

Gem was right, too. I was putting his life in danger by clinging on to him. The only sane thing was to let go. No matter how much it hurt.

As the dinner ended and everyone moved into the ballroom, I spotted Prince Leafar in the crowd. He was wearing a powder blue evening suit with his golden curls reaching the high embroidered collar.

Despite Prince Leafar’s grand claims and pledges of devotion, I knew the prince didn’t love me. He likely wouldn’t fall in love with me for a long time still, if ever. But if I were to marry him, he had every right to my respect.

I wasn’t born as the crown princess, but I had accepted that role with the best intentions to make the queen and the queendom proud of me and my choices. As such, I had to behave accordingly.

As the music played and the first couples entered onto the dance floor. I crossed the room toward Prince Leafar.

A hushed silence fell over the ballroom as I approached. The prince’s cheeks flushed violently as all attention turned to us. His handlers—the high-standing ladies of his court and his gentlemen-in-waiting—stepped back, like a tide receding.

“May I have a minute of your time, my prince?” I extended a hand to him.

“Of course, Your Highness,” he replied, somewhat breathlessly.

As soon as people realized this wasn’t an invitation to dance, they inched closer, eager to find out the reason for me singling the prince out. I couldn’t completely escape their attention, of course, but I could at least get us a few moments of relative privacy.

“Would you care to join me for a walk in the gardens?” I asked Prince Leafar.

“A walk?” He blinked, then glanced over his shoulder at his entourage for guidance.

My request clearly didn’t fit into the script he’d been fed, and now he was confused about how to proceed.

“Right there.” I gestured at the stone patio behind the doors that led into the palace gardens. “I promise we’ll stay in the plain sight of everyone in this room. There is no need to bring a chaperone.”

“Of course.” He nodded politely, tossing a furtive glance at the grand duchess, his aunt, who stood just a half-step back to our right.

The grand duchess inclined her head in approval, and the prince finally took my hand.

I led him to the closest set of ornate crystal doors. Not waiting for the servants to get to us, I flicked the heavy bronze locks myself, then pushed the two doors wide open.

A warm, humid air rushed in from the outside, banishing the heavy fumes of wine and sweets served inside and the musky cocktail of the gentlemen’s cologne.

“The rain has long gone,” I said, stepping out onto the patio. “I thought you might enjoy getting some fresh air with me.”

“Every minute spent with Your Highness is an honor and a pleasure.” Leafar gallantly offered me his arm.

Resting my hand in the crook of his elbow, I led him off the patio.

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