Page 54 of Unbetrothed

“No, we won’t!” I wrenched away from him. “The journey took too long. We won’t come back tomorrow, and you need to get home. Or would you prefer to lie about needing to go home?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “How forthright have you been? You won’t tell me your real name, yet you callmea liar.” He shook his head, a wry smirk forming on his lips. “I am risking my friends’ lives for you. I am risking my brothers’ wrath for you. Please be reasonable.”

I patted down the tunic that pouched out of my pants. How I had lowered myself on this quest, and no one was here. And for what? A hoax. Tears burned my eyes before cascading down my cheeks.

I let out a shaky breath. “My name is Princess Beatriz of Giddel. You assessed well.” I met his unflinching gaze. “I am not a merchant’s daughter. All my life, I dreamed of coming here. The little boy said he’d be waiting.” I sank my face into my hands. My chest trembled, and I sobbed.

Zichri pulled me into his arms. A pool of tears and snot soaked into his tunic. I didn’t care. What did any of this matter?

I sucked in a breath and continued, “I’m sorry for lying to you. You were so kind. Papá would never have let me come here. Mamá would never have spoken against Papá.” This sent a fresh wave of tears gushing out.

“Beatriz, do you really need this gift? You are beautiful and brave. You’re important to me.”

I looked up at him. “Do you mean that?”

“I—I don’t know how to tell you what I feel for you. Something about you struck me from the moment I saw you.”

“I was in distress and needed saving.” I tilted my head down to wipe my nose with my hand—where’s a handkerchief when you need it? This is not how I pictured a man professing his love for me. I could at least try to hold myself together.

“Don’t—”

“Do what?” I was caught. He must have seen the streak of muck I wiped all over my pants that really were his.

“You diminish what I saw. Where I come from, ladies throw themselves at me in an attemptto get my attention.”

He ruined a perfectly good moment by bringing other ladies into this. I rolled my eyes.

“Please understand.” He caressed my arm, sending a tingle through it. “I say this because I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’m … how do I say this?” He took a minute, eyes looking up and around. “I am the third son of Himzo.”

“What do you mean?” My stomach squeezed. I perceived what he was about to say, but I didn’t want to believe it.

“My father is the Himzo king, and I’m third in line for the throne.”

My arms fell to my side. “You said you were a soldier.”

“I am. That’s not a lie.” A muscle flinched on his cheek. “I get sent out all the time. My brothers, most likely, wish me dead. And I rather enjoy being away.”

That small headache that pinched between my brows stabbed. “You didn’t think telling me might have been in our best interest?”

His gaze locked on mine. “There’s more.”

I shook my head. How could I have been such a fool? Biting on the inside of my cheeks, I lifted my chin, remembering how a princess should act. “You may continue.”

“The first time I saw you was not that day at the well. I’d heard rumors about the Princess of Giddel and wanted to meet you after we finished our mission.” He ran a hand through his hair. “My men and I procured invites to your ball. Pity filled my heart for this beautiful but gift-less princess. It reminded me of how I felt among my brothers. When I saw you walking in that bright red dress, the color of a rose, I knew I had to meet you. You had that expression on your face, the same one you have now.” He traced a finger down my jawline, and I flinched. “I’d been advised not to dance at the ball by my contact. But Blas dared a dance with you.”

I gasped, unable to believe my ears.

“Blas said you were even more beautiful up close, but you didn’t speak to him. That morning when you ran away, we saw you pass by dressed like a servant. So we followed as best we could. We meant no harm.”

My lower lip trembled with fury. “You knew the whole time?” To think, I had enjoyed his embrace and company when all the time, he laughed at me. “Go away!”

“Let me explain.”

“You’ve said enough.” I pointed out toward the bridge. “Go!”

“Beatriz, please understand—”

“Princess Beatriz of Giddel,” I corrected him.

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