Page 102 of Falling Princess

His bewilderment, and my despair, deepened.

“Is there a difference?” he asked.

Auralia save me.

My father drifted back to sleep when I showed no interest in further discussion, and awoke when we clattered over the cobblestone streets of the Walled City.

“Once you are dressed for the feast, come and find me in my chambers. We dine with the Grasslands district this evening.”

I bowed and headed for my rooms. Lorcan peeled out of the shadows and fell silently into step behind me. We passed the portrait of my family, painted when I was a toddler, continued past the entrance to the throne room, up the stairway that leads to the library and archives and the Treasury, into the smaller hallways that lead to my tower.

An electric awareness lit me as soon as I realized we were alone.

“Princess. Wait.”

My pulse surged as Lorcan drew me into the shadows of a heavily-curtained window. I didn’t move, couldn’t breathe, trying to blend in with the velvet at my back. The deep sill offered little concealment beyond the darkness of early winter evening outside the casement windows. I pressed as close to him as I dared.

“Shh.”

A door opened. My father and one of his Councilors make their way down the hall, heads bent in conversation.

“—seems rather attached to her appointed knight.”

My father replied, “What makes you say that? As I understand the situation, my daughter barely tolerates his presence as a concession to her studies...”

Lorcan’s arm tightened around my waist. Laughing, silently. “Barely tolerate me, huh?”

I swatted his shoulder. He kissed me. It was all the reassurance I needed.

“Cutting it a bit close, weren’t you?”

“I’m amazed you noticed, considering how I am barely tolerable to you—”

I cut him off with another kiss. “You’re terrible.”

“I know.”

“Unrepentant, too.” What an impertinent little shit he is. “I missed you.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you arrogant?” I couldn’t help giggling, though, which undermined the effect. I traced the edge of his jaw with my fingertips.

Lorcan smoothed my long hair, carefully working avoiding the twist of gold at my crown. It’s so soothing, being petted like that.

“I’m here now.” His brows knit together. “What’s with all the nobles hanging around?”

“Father has...” I swallowed, grateful for the dim lighting in our curtained windowsill. “Invited prospective suitors to court me. I am to be wed by my next birthday.”

Lorcan’s gaze narrowed icily.

“It seems he’s feeling the pressure to secure Auralia’s succession, in the event of an invasion. I’m fortunate to have had as much freedom as I have already been granted.”

I perched on the window ledge, framed by heavy velvet curtains held back with large gold tassels, and traced a shape onto the frosty glass with my bare finger. An apple. How far we’ve come since that day I found him spying on me from the parapet; how much distance yet remains.

“Nineteen is too young,” he complained.

“I’ll be twenty by then. My mother wed my father at the same age.” He was more than a decade older. I blew more steam on the window and traced another design. A heart. “I’m the only living princess. It’s a matrilineal succession. You know that.” I tried to be calm about the situation, but inside, I was quaking. “I don’t want this, either, yet I can’t put off marriage indefinitely.”

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