Page 26 of The War Queen's Daughter

The room that greets me is a stark contrast to the opulence of the main palace, yet another space filled with stacks and books. It’s a private library, no doubt, though far less tidy than the previous one, filled with the comforting, earthy scent of old paper and ink. Scrolls are piled high on every surface, maps are tacked to the walls, and books, their leather bindings worn smooth, overflow from shelves.

None of which has my attention like the tall, handsome blond who looks up in surprise from the book he’s reading and meets my eyes with his blue ones.

“Overhighness,” I say.

“Princess,” he nods, frowning a little, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. A plate sits next to his elbow, half-eaten food cold and congealed, a goblet of wine beside it. “Thanks for coming. Please.” He gestures for me to join him, rising to free the seat of a stool to match his from the stack of parchment that fills it.

I’m caught off guard, I admit it. He’s acting rather offhand with me, comfortable, and makes no attempt at formality aside from his address. With Amber’s suggestion firmly in mind, I do as I would normally and sit as instructed, leaning forward across his desk and turning the book he’s reading toward me.

“Battle Strategies of the First Kingdoms,” I say, reading the title aloud. “The Rise and Fall of Thirteen Thrones.” I page flip through the contents while he sits again and watches. When I reach the end, I carefully open it again to the exact page he’dstopped on, turning it back toward him before meeting his eyes. “Am I here to educate you on matters of war, Overhighness?”

The oil lanterns that light his room offer solid, unwavering light, as much as his quiet expression is still and calm. He’s dressed in simple, unadorned clothing, though the fabrics are clearly of fine weave. He’s been running his hands through his hair, the artful waves I’ve noted now disheveled, falling across his forehead and brushing his open collar. Gone is the pampered Overprince I met in the hall when I first tried to leave, the bored and restless groom-to-be from dinner last night.

He's as much a scholar as I am a soldier, and his steady gaze holds no animosity. There are faint shadows beneath his deep, blue eyes, and a faint smile touches his lips at my suggestion.

“We can have that talk, if you like,” he says, his voice a low, clear tone. “I’d be happy to learn from your experience all that I know I’m missing just by reading about it.” He gestures at the book in front of him, a faint frown replacing his smile. “There’s much that’s missing, I know, but it’s all I have access to without actually going to war.”

How can I be so disarmed by his honesty? This encounter has taken a turn that has me suddenly wary as much as it has me wondering. My mind says,not safe.I’d be smart to listen to it. Except my gut, the part of me that has saved my life more times than I can count, thinks otherwise.

It whispers,friend. And maybe more than friend.

I lean away, purposely, and survey the room, letting him see that I’m checking for hidden dangers, for the knife that I’m waiting to parry. Except, as he sighs softly, I accept that he’s entered into this meeting without guile, at least as far as I can tell.

We are alone.

“I know I shouldn’t be offended,” he says.

“Are you?” I watch him the way he watches me, openly curious, matching his energy. “Offended?”

Altar hesitates before he shrugs. “A little. Silly, but true.”

“I’moffended,” I say. That has his eyes widening until I release a slow smile that smolders. This is a seduction, after all, and while perhaps it’s meant to be a trap, he really is very handsome, and I haven’t managed to find anyone to bed yet. He’ll do if it comes to that. “I’m offended that you think I have any idea why I’m really here.”

Altar relaxes slightly, reaching for the wine decanter, offering me a glass with a gesture toward an empty cup. I nod and accept it as he pours with ink-stained fingers. I’m fascinated by now, and I find that I am drawn in by his voice as he speaks.

“You’re wondering if it’s poisoned, no doubt.” He takes a full swallow, watching me over the rim as I wait to help myself. “I can assure you, it’s quite safe.” He tops up his glass, nodding when I sip. “You’re here,” he says, “for a few reasons. First, I wanted to apologize. About yesterday. I understand you had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into.”

“Truth,” I say, saluting him with my wine. It’s excellent and I’m already halfway through the glass, though I know better than to lose my wits to it, forcing myself to set it down for the time being. “Nice of you to care.”

“Since no one else does.” He says it like it’s common knowledge, so I just nod. “For the record, I loved the dress.” Altar laughs a little, blue eyes sparkling. “I about fell over when I saw you sitting there at dinner. They planned that, I take it. The others?” Another nod satisfies him. “You’re not like them.”

“What gave me away?” I circle the rim of my glass with one fingertip.

His gaze falls to the motion and watches for a moment before he meets mine again. “Why areyouhere?”

“My mother lied to me,” I tell him that utter truth without emotion. “She said I was meant to marry the Overprince, to become Overqueen someday, for the glory and power of Heald. I followed her orders because she gave them to me.”

“Do you always do as you’re told?” He’s watching my finger again. I dip it into the wine, bring it to my mouth. When I suck the liquid from my skin, catching a droplet with my tongue, I see his pulse speed up at the base of his throat, his cheeks flush.

“Yes,” I say, letting my hand fall as a fist to thud on the desk. He jumps a little, catches himself, eyes returning to mine. “Like it or not, I’m a soldier, Overhighness. It’s my job to obey my queen in all things.”

That has him frowning, looking down at the book in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“You keep apologizing to me,” I say, lighter in tone now, teasing. “That’s unbecoming of an Overprince, isn’t it?”

His rueful smile flashes, Altar looking up at me through his blond hair. Adorable, sexy in his way. Yes, I can live with this, make it work for me. And let him see that in my face as he clears his throat, takes a sip of wine.

With lips that I’m now anticipating on my own.

---