Page 33 of Princess of Death

I wouldn’t share my thoughts and feelings with a man only I could see. If anyone watched me through the window, they would think I’d gone insane. “I said come back tomorrow.”

“I will, but I still want to know your sorrow.”

I finally turned to look at him directly.

He showed no hint of anger or resentment. Just a distant hint of concern.

“Why?”

He pivoted his body toward me, casting a shadow over me as he blocked the fire. It was the closest he’d been to me since we’d met in his lands, far to the west. He didn’t touch me, but he was so close that it felt like his hands were all over me. “The same reason I saved you.”

My breathing was different when he was near. It was either the potential danger…or the fact that he was the single most breathtaking man I’d ever seen. It made sense he was so beautiful since he was an immortal god with powers that I didn’t understand. And he took pity upon me—a mortal.

I was the first one to look away. “I got into an argument with my best friend. He said some things I didn’t want to hear.”

He remained right beside me, his presence formidable and comforting at the same time. Instead of smelling like most men, pine and the outdoors with a hint of sweat, he smelled like smoke from a fire, ash that still burned hot. It was subtle and delicate but made me think of the outdoor fires I’d built with my father when we explored the wilderness for a week. “And what were those things?”

I pulled my wineglass closer to me across the counter before I stepped away, walking around the statue of a man to the dining table. I took a seat, still smelling the soup that I’d whipped up from what I found in the garden.

When I looked over, expecting to see Wrath across the room in the kitchen, he was already seated in front of me, as if he’d left and reappeared before I noticed. With elbows on the table, his arms big like melons that matured in the summer season, he looked at me, his knuckles distinct, his hands big.

“Would you like some wine?”

“I don’t care for it.”

“Because you drink the souls of innocents?” I teased…somewhat.

His stare didn’t change, rock hard like the rest of him. “What were those things?” he repeated, maintaining his interest as if he actually cared.

Maybe he did. “Since I’m the firstborn, my father raised me to be his successor as Queen of the Southern Isles. Ever since I could walk, he had been teaching me how to survive, how to fight, and how to navigate by the stars. Six years ago, I told him I didn’t want it. That I wanted to sail the world and see distant places.”

He listened more intently than any man had ever listened to me, with razor-sharp focus, hanging on every word as if it was as important as the previous one. As if I was about to reveal the details of a hidden treasure that had been lost to humankind for centuries.

“But Zehemoth thinks I’m just running away from my responsibility.”

He didn’t ask who Zehemoth was. Perhaps he already knew. “Are you?”

“I—I don’t know. I guess…”

His sharply intelligent eyes watched me with the colored tones of the earth, rich and dark in their hue. His joined hands came together against his chin and bottom lip. “I felt your presence on my shores. Felt the Rothschild blood in your veins. I also felt your power and your mystique. When I first came upon you, I assumed I would face Talon Rothschild’s son—but I met his daughter instead. In the armor of a king and with a sword a woman so petite shouldn’t be able to carry.” He stopped, eyes locked on mine like he was remembering our encounter with great detail. “Carrying a powerful confidence as a shield and eyes so ruthlessly intelligent it made me second-guess my own prowess. Every man who crosses my path cowers in fear—except you.”

My fingers rested on the top of my wineglass. I wanted to drop my gaze and look at the surface of the table, but there was a magnetism to his stare that locked me in place.

“I watched you command the galleon as a captain. I watched you evade a fleet of warships with every intention of sinking you to the ocean floor. In the shadows that none alive can pierce, I watched you slaughter men like a farmer slaughters sheep. I watched you destroy a man thrice your size. I knew Talon Rothschild had trained his daughter to take his place, and he trained her well. I didn’t meet a woman who lost her way—but a queen on her path to greatness.”

I felt a flush of heat up my neck, a coldness down my spine. The weight of responsibility that I thought I shed had returned to my shoulders, and it was heavier than before. I suddenly feltbreathless when I hadn’t moved in minutes. My eyes dropped to the wineglass where my fingers rested, needing a break from the confidence of a god.

“You insult the crown by not taking it.”

My fingers traced the rim, remembering the night I’d told my father I didn’t want the responsibility he carried so effortlessly. He’d smiled and supported me, but I’d seen the disappointment deep behind his eyes.

“Lily Rothschild.”

My eyes flicked back up to his at the command in his voice.

“Why do you deny your birthright? Why do you deny what you’ve rightfully earned?”

We’d barely exchanged a few words, but he had been there with me when I’d survived my greatest challenge, and that created a sense of closeness I couldn’t explain. But even so, I didn’t know why I shared so much with him when I rejected Zehemoth’s concern. “You may think I’ve earned it, but I’m not sure I agree.”

---