Page 62 of Wrath of the Never Queen

He pauses and waits for me. After a moment, I nod again.

This time, his fingers slide to the buttons on his trousers, making my breath catch. The room is silent except the sound of my racing heart in my ears. He undoes each button slowly, watching me all the while, waiting for me to stop him. But I do not.

The last of his buttons come apart, and he hooks his thumbs under the band of his trousers. Slowly, he pushes down before stepping out of them. The only thing left is his drawers—loose white fabric which narrows and ends at his knees. His hands hover on the band of them where they are tied low around his hips, showing the cut of his muscle before disappearing under the fabric. I never knew how the bottom of aman’s stomach could be so attractive. Again, his eyes find mine and ask the question.

“Stop,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

As soon as I say it, Theo moves his hands away. My gaze travels from his kind eyes to his strong jaw and further still until I am staring at his bare torso. I am aware I am being lustful, but I cannot bring myself to care, and Theo stands patiently by the bed. The corner of his mouth upticks, a hint of a pleased smile.

“Just like last time,” I tell him before reaching for the corner of the covers nearest to him and throwing it back.

He accepts the invitation, sliding into bed next to me.

“I am not expecting anything more from you than you are willing to give,” he says and stretches his arm onto my pillow. I shuffle closer and rest my head on his chest. He is warm and firm beneath my cheek, and I find myself relaxing almost immediately. Hesitantly, I place my hand on his stomach, and he responds by placing his hand on top of mine. I lace my fingers between his, and he curls his other arm over, pulling me closer. I am overly aware all that lies between us is the flimsy fabric of my nightgown and his drawers. I try to steady my breathing.

“You are sure I am not…” I struggle to find the right word. “Teasing you?”

He chuckles softly.

“I could lay here with you for the rest of my life and be happier than I have ever been, Shivani,” he says and rubs his thumb against my hand.

Pleased, I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat. It is racing faster than I thought it would be. I slide my leg over his until his thigh is nestled between mine, and his pulse speeds up even further. I wonder if he is as nervous as I am.

Safe, warm and comfortable, I drift off in the middle of my thoughts.

Chapter 25

Saint’s Day arrives in a flurry of colour and cheer.

The entire castle staff are invited into the throne room to hear the king’s speech before the celebrations can begin. When Inez takes my hand, leading me into the stream of servants as everyone makes their way to the throne room, I am surprised.

“But I do not worship the Saints,” I whisper to her.

“It does not matter.” She shakes her head, smiling. “Everyone is welcome on Saint’s Day.”

She links her arm with mine, and we follow the rush of people, the atmosphere buzzing around us. People are dressed in their usual staff uniforms—a bleak grey—but for today, the king has allowed them to pin fabric flowers to their clothes and paint their faces and arms with vibrant ink. They beam at us, singing and laughing, as we allow ourselves to be pulledtowards the throne room.

I hope there are enough people around me for me to blend in, especially with the flourish of colour around me, but the king lays eyes on me straight away. I stand in the crowd, and we stare at each other while he lazes leisurely on his garish throne. There is the slightest curl to his lips.

And then Theo steps into the room, dressed in his usual jewel-toned royal clothes, but there is a small flower pinned to his chest. A new wave of excitement ripples throughout the crowd as he stands next to his father, hands clasped behind his back. He sees the king watching me and bends to whisper something in his ear. Whatever it is, the king finally breaks his eye contact, and I release a pent-up breath.

“Good people,” the king calls out, voice echoing through the room. The crowd immediately falls silent, their obedience overriding their joy for the day. “Please take this day as a token of my generosity to celebrate the Saints in all their glory.”

I begin to tune him out, not interested in him turning a religious day into something he has “gifted” his staff. I glance at Theo instead, who has his eyes firmly fixed on a distant point. It hurts, but I understand why.

“What a load of tripe,” Inez mutters to me, close enough so only I can hear her. I smother a smirk.

The king eventually concludes his self-gratifying speech and exits with a sweep of his cloak, not bothering to look at me this time. I expect Theo to do the same, but instead, he makes his way into the crowd, weaving through the clamour. I realise he is walking towards us, squeezing past people apologetically.

“Your Highness,” Inez and I greet him in tandem. A few of the servants look at us quizzically, but most are too intent on following the festivities.

“Miss Shivani, Miss Inez.” He nods at us both.

“It is good to see you again, Your Highness,” Inez tells him, her voice earnest. Theo’s face softens.

“And you, Miss Inez,” he replies. I blink, surprised at the friendship between them, but there is something sad there as well. Neither of them says anything more so I decide not to pry.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, jerking my chin at the king’s doorway. “I thought you would be leaving with him.”

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