Page 66 of The Princess's Chosen

"I…"

"Do you often question orders from your superiors?" Cosmo asked, nudging me with his hip as he pushed the door open and waggled his eyebrows at Cresswell.

"Stanley—"

"I'll be fine out here, sir," Stanley said, bowing.

"See, he'll be fine," I said, tugging Cresswell into the sitting room with me.

"I…" Cresswell stalled again, his eyes wide with something almost like panic, twisting as Thao closed the door behind us.

"Did you doubt the rest of us to keep you safe?" Thao asked me, smiling and moving for the window seat, Wendell following him so they could restart their paused game of chess.

"Of course not, but Cresswell calms me," I said.

Owen and Cosmo exchanged a quick smile before Cosmo moved to the desk, where he'd left a sketchbook open.

"I'll just…go and have a nap in the other room," Owen said, heading for the bed, flashing a smile at me over his shoulder.

"Close the door, I can't concentrate with your trumpeting," Thao muttered.

"Har har," Owen answered, passing Thao and ruffling the other man's hair. "Maybe I want Wendell to win."

"Thank you, O," Wendell said, the two of them beaming with conspiracy at Thao's teasing scowl.

"I calm you?" Cresswell asked, following almost obediently as I moved to sit on the couch, placing myself in the middle and nodding my head for him to sit at my side.

"Of course you do," I said.

It was true. Cresswell was becoming a bit of a rock for me to cling to when the winds began to buffer and blow around me, whether it was my sister or Daniel, or now this with Emory. And I did lean as Cresswell sat down at my side, fitting into the narrow space I'd given him.

"I take it I don't calm you," I said softly as I found him rigid and frozen at my side. He eased a fraction at the joke, his left arm stretching over the back of the couch, gripping the frame like he was afraid he might touch me.

"Your Highness—"

"Bryony!"

He sucked in a deep breath, brow furrowing, and I twisted to face him. It gave him a little more room away from me but my left my knees pressed to his thigh, his extraordinary warmth seeping through our clothes into me.

Cresswell shifted, leaning toward me, head lowered and gaze holding to mine. "Princess, I am at your disposal, of course, but…"

"But you're exempt from being Chosen," I said, echoing the words he'd said to Camellia.

Cresswell's eyebrows jumped. "I—yes. Yes, and I'm a shifter."

I nodded and shrugged, glancing toward the window. "Thao and Wendell are shifters too, of course. Are you registered?"

"I am. I was a ward of Kimmery. There was no…there was no hiding it," he said.

Our voices were growing softer, and it hadn't escaped me that the rest of my Chosen had given us this space, busying themselves elsewhere. If Owen were really falling asleep, we'd all have heard it by now.

"I want to do away with the registration of shifters," I said, and realized I only mentioned it to try and appeal to Cresswell.

This had been coming on slowly since the festival, hadn't it, this slow-simmering attraction to my guard? Cresswell had been at my side since I'd arrived in the north, making a road for me on untraveled ground, glaring over my shoulder at every threat.

His head turned to the door, a puzzled frown digging over his forehead like he was trying to sort out why he was inside the room rather guarding from the hall. I reached for his hand, marveling at the size of his palm, turning it over in mine and studying the strength of his fingers as they twitched at my exploration.

"I would give my life for you, Bryony."

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