Page 62 of Glow of the Everflame

I tried, and failed, to suppress my victorious grin. At least now I knew Remis could be trusted to deliver a message.

“Well imagine my surprise at hearing from your father that I’m to spend the next three weeks meeting with the Twenty Houses. All this after learning of the ball from Aemonn.” I tutted in disapproval. “If this is your candidacy to be my advisor, Prince, you’re going to have to do much better.”

“I never intended to keep those things from you. I only wanted to give you some time to adjust rather than overwhelm you.”

“Overwhelm me?” I sat up straighter. “So you thought I couldn’t handle it?”

His knuckles whitened where he gripped his armrests. “That’s not what I meant.”

I snapped the book in my lap closed with a loud thump. Through the glass panes, Sorae’s watery outline paused from her rain bath to cast a watchful amber eye our way.

“It sounds like you believed I was too fragile to be informed of my own schedule,” I said testily.

“I, more than anyone, know hownotfragileyou are,” he growled, his calm slipping. “But it is my sworn duty to protect you in whatever ways I can.”

“Protect me from what, myself?” I narrowed my eyes, expecting him to back down, but his gaze danced with a stubborn fire that matched my own. “I’m not a child, Luther, I am a grown woman.”

“Believe me, Your Majesty, I am well aware.”

His voice was low and rough, heavy with implication. My body flushed, tightening deep in my core. Thewantin his tone felt nothing like Aemonn’s empty flattery, and all at once I was too hot, too sensitive, too breathless.

I shoved the quilt from my lap, intending to storm off, but the fabric tangled with my skirts and lifted them away, exposing my bare skin from ankle to thigh. Luther’s eyes lingered there, branding my flesh, until he caught himself. His back straightened as his gaze jumped back to mine.

It shouldn’t have bothered me. He’d seen nearly all of me already, thanks to my habit of answering doors in various states of undress. But something about the recent secrets we’d shared made these interactions between us now feel dangerously intimate.

Luther always seemed to have the upper hand, some higher ground from which to toss me off my resolve to dislike him. For once, I wanted him to be the one squirming under my stare and questioning everything he thought he knew about me.

I lounged back against the divan and crossed my legs so the fabric of my dress slid even further, baring my thigh where it curved up into my hip. I arched my back and raised my chin in a silent dare.

Luther’s pupils dilated as he watched me, a predator on the hunt. I could see him fighting against his desire to take another look—or perhaps do more thanlook.

I was playing with fire, but the thrill of the game had me in its claws. Luther drew me in in a way I’d never experienced with anyone else. Fighting with him, teasing him—it was like lighting a fuse and closing my eyes, never knowing just how close I was to destruction.

Knowing he was watching me, I allowed my eyes to wander. I gazed far longer than appropriate at the sharp rise of his cheekbones, the swell of his lips, the square angle of his jaw. I took in the taut stretch of fabric in all the places where his body showed its power—his wide shoulders, his muscled limbs. I studied the large, strong hands resting on his knees—hands that had held me against him, hands that had explored my hips and thighs.

I wondered if he remembered those moments at inopportune times like I did. If they turned his mouth dry and set his heart racing like they were currently doing to mine.

To his credit, he didn’t wither an inch. He remained preternaturally still. Even his breathing seemed to lie in wait. His only reaction was the spark of a question in his eyes, daring me to give my assessment.

Though I’d made a habit of mentally reciting all the reasons I was supposed to hate Luther whenever I was in his presence, the events of yesterday had me questioning each one. As I scrutinized him now, I came to a sudden, alarming realization.

I didn’t hate Luther. Against my better judgment, I had begun to genuinely trust him. I was even—Everflame forgive me—enjoying his company. I liked the way he unsettled me, the way he challenged me. I liked that he was a riddle I couldn’t quite solve.

I liked...him.

Oh, gods. Ilikedhim.

Instantly, I needed distance. I shot to my feet and across to one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the room, their alcoves packed with rows of colorful spines. I trailed a finger along their edges as I strolled away.

“I have enough people in my life who tried to protect me by keeping things from me, Luther. I have no need for any more of them. Especially now.”

His intense aura of power infused the air as he rose and fell into step behind me. When he was this close, his magic felt like a tangible thing, caressing me like fingers against my skin.

“Understood, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again.”

I glanced over my shoulder, and he met my gaze. Chin down, eyebrows up.

Deference. An unspoken apology.

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