Page 59 of Falling Princess
Another fruitless attempt to curry favor with outsiders. I don’t understand my father’s desire to impress these people.
“What’s Auralia’s GDP again?” one incredulous economist asked before raking his gaze down my body. A tiresome reminder that men like him see me as nothing but a pretty figurehead, not a leader with ideas, to be treated with respect.
“Less than a hundred million, in dollars, annually,” I answered, frowning. “In our own monetary terms, Auralia does very well. Our dael fares poorly on international currency exchanges.” We rank at the bottom of global countries by GDP. “But we have a high standard of living and rank highly in terms of gender equality, economic equality and maternal health. Our ethnic divisions are minimal. Education is free to all children through the age of sixteen. We’re a good investment.”
The man snorted. “You should think long and hard about who you marry, Princess. An oil oligarch, or maybe a tech billionaire. That’s Auralia’s best chance. If you want loans, you have to have some means of repaying them. As of now, your country has no trade agreements, no diplomatic relationships, and no strategic military value to anyone. Hell, you can’t even put down the threat from a band of rogue sea pirates.”
Neither have any of the larger countries they often attack.I didn’t translate that part of the conversation for my father.
Lorcan’s presence was a comforting warmth at my side. He doesn’t need my translations. He knows what I omitted.
“Auralia doesn’t need help from assholes like him,” he murmured when the belittling man moved on to talk with someone more important. “We’re fine on our own.”
“I wish you were right,” I replied quietly. “But all we have are a fleet of semi-functional ancient robots that might shoot an energy blast, if Saskaya and Raghnall can ever get them working, and a small army better trained in the use of spears than rocket launchers. We’re the underdog. I understand why my father’s keen to secure financing. He might not want to buy guns or tanks or fighter planes, but we might not have a choice.”
Lorcan started to say something, then closed his mouth. I’d prefer it if he spoke his mind. That requires trust, however, and while we now have a truce, I know my actions have stomped, blowtorched and otherwise destroyed any potential foundation for real friendship. He is dedicated to my survival and the Auralian cause, but all that entitles me to is his assistance with warding off wandering hands from tipsy bankers—and killers lurking in the shadows.
On the flight back to Scotland, I finally found the courage to ask him a question that’s bothered me for weeks.
“How old were you, the first time?”
Lorcan slanted a look at me. “Are we talking about kissing, or...?”
My face flamed. “Killing. How old were you when you first took a life?”
“Oh.” He studied his hands, loosely curled on his thighs, until his gaze shifts slightly upward to meet mine. “Fifteen.”
I gasped.
“Shh. This isn’t the kind of thing you just chat about in first class,” he whispered. Our heads were bent close together. I inhaled his scent more greedily than I should, which turned my stomach all fluttery. How can a killer smell this good? Like forests and rain and spring air, without it being the least bit artificial—or either of us having been near the woods.
“Does it bother you?”
The same question I asked him, that day.
“That you were so young? Yes. I don’t like the idea that Auralia relies on child soldiers to fight its wars.”
He ducked his head, and for a moment I was alarmed to think he was crying, but of course, he’s not. He’s trying to cover the fact that he’s laughing. “It doesn’t. I’m a special case. Cata had been training me for years, we were ambushed by Skía, and we took out the attackers. I’m fond of my head. I don’t lay awake regretting the loss of people who try to take it off.”
I’m a special case.I’m starting to believe it, too.
“Does my killing bother you?” he asked.
“I thought we didn’t discuss this in first class,” I whispered, because I’m not sure there’s an acceptable answer I can give him. Lorcan snorted quietly.
“Yet, here we are. So, tell me.”
I have the oddest desire to touch him. There remains an invisible barrier between us. Princess. Knight. We’re two people from two very different stations, thrown together by circumstance. Mindful that my father is his boss, I kept my hands to myself.
“I feel as though I ought to be bothered by it, but I’m not. I’m only grateful that I don’t have to deliver the killing blow myself. I don’t think I’m capable of it.” IknowI’m not. But I’m destined to be queen, and therefore, I must be able to command soldiers to kill on my behalf. Perhaps that’s why I can’t fault him. Ultimately, he’s doing it for me.
Lorcan’s fingertips brushed along my jaw, gently turning my face to his. “Princess. You’ll never have to kill anyone. That’s my role. It’s why you have me.”
He held me there a beat too long. In my mind, I kissed the center of his palm. Part of me wanted to lean forward and find out if his mouth tastes like freedom.It’s why you have me.But I don’t. He’s assigned to guard me. That’s all. It would be wrong to take advantage of him that way.
I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, until Lorcan released me.
With a rushed exhale and my pulse wild in my throat, I quickly changed the subject.
