Page 31 of Revert
His expression flickered, the faintest edge of offense cutting across his features. “I don’t deny that underhanded tactics are one of my specialties,” he said coolly. “But this isn’t one of them. It appears you’ve already forgotten thatyou’rethe one who corneredme.”
My breath hitched. “Corneredyou?—?”
His brow arched slightly. “Is that not what led to this cozy chat? Might I remind you that it wasyourmischievousness that led to this. If you wanted to be alone with me so desperately, all you needed do was ask.”
The words might have sounded flirtatious coming from anyone else, but from the man who had killed me, they landed like a blow. “You’re the last man I want to be alone with.”
“And yet that is the situation in which we find ourselves now. You’re more bold than I gave you credit for. I knew you meant to test me, but trapping the crown prince…” His mouth tilted upwards slightly. “That’s quite the ambitious feat.”
His tone was so flat, so carefully stripped of emotion I couldn’t tell whether he was serious or actually teasing. Surely the former—the Thorndale monarchy didn’t trade in jest, but in threats and power.
I opened my mouth to retort, but he suddenly lifted a finger, a command of silence. Naturally, it only made me want to do the very opposite; terror had emboldened me. As before, I had no weapon of my own—only my dangerous defiance.
A sudden sound from beyond the door made his head snap up. Before I could even attempt to speak, his hand was there, two fingers pressing lightly to my lips.
“Please,” he murmured, barely above a breath. “Don’t speak.”
His warning wasn’t what silenced me, but his touch. Every reckless impulse flickered out at the light pressure of his fingertips, every hint of rebellion weak in the face of the searing heat against my mouth, a kiss without a kiss.
He withdrew slowly, as if aware of the tension he left behind. My lips tingled where his fingers had been, a phantom of his touch that extended towards my heart without quite reaching it.
Without a word, he swept the room with a cautious glance, then moved to the door and pressed his ear to the wood, quiet and controlled. His brows drew together, the crease betweenthem deepening. When he turned back, he crossed to me and leaned in near my ear, his breath stirring the stray wisps of hair against my cheek. Close, much too close. I had to fight the shiver that ran through me at the nearness.
A muscle in his jaw tensed. “As you know, appearances within the Thorndale court can be deceiving. Though we appear to be alone, it seems too much to hope for. Speak in a whisper and watch what you say.”
The warmth of his breath caressed my temple as he pulled away. I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to remain still. I would not let him see the shiver that rippled through me, or allow him to witness the effect his presence had on me.
But the silence he left in his wake was unbearable.
“I hoped this chamber would be safe, but nowhere within these walls is outside the king’s reach.” Frustration darkened his voice, though I couldn’t tell if it was aimed at me or himself. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had exercised caution. You’re feisty and clever, Princess, but you don’t know when to stop for your own good.”
Anger surged, curling through the vulnerability his nearness had left behind. “Remaining passive doesn’t cause the ripples that lead to change.”
He exhaled, a sound between a sigh and a quiet, breathless laugh that made my chest tighten too sharply. “An admirable trait…if it wasn’t such a dangerous one. There is a time and place for ripples, and that is not now. Why are you being so foolish?”
His eyes caught mine with sudden intensity, looking at me not as a pawn, threat, or even an obligation, but as something far more precarious.
For a moment, I had no answer…at least not one I dared give voice to—wondering why he had reason to care when he himself had been the one to quell my rebellion in the future. Caution hadfailed me; if I had already died once, what more was there left to lose?
Something stirred in my chest, a flicker of feeling I couldn’t afford. The shield I’d so carefully erected around my heart warned me I’d wagered something without even realizing it. I swallowed hard, struggling to let it go. I could risk my life, but I wasn’t sure I could survive losingthat.
The silence that had once felt intimidating now felt laden with feelings I didn’t dare examine, pressing on me so fiercely I thought I might drown in it. I couldn’t stand the weight of his nearness, welcome and unwelcome at once.
Desperate for a distraction, I looked around the cramped chamber. “What is this room?” I didn’t care about the location compared to who I was in forced proximity with; I just needed to hear something other than my own frantic heartbeat, to think of something besides the enigma that shared the room with me.
He didn’t answer right away, but not because he chose to ignore me. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something beyond the walls, his attention sharpened in a way that left me unsettled. Was he listening for potential eavesdroppers? I wasn’t sure what alarmed me more: the possibility we were being spied on, or the fact that evenheseemed wary.
“This is the remnants of a warded room,” he said at last, his tone flat, factual. “Enchanted to seal behind intruders.” He paused a single breath, a rare show of hesitation; but as he spoke again, something shifted. “Possibly a leftover of?—”
He cut himself off abruptly, jaw tightening. I waited, but he offered no more. “You said it seals against intruders,” I said. “Wouldn’t the royal family be an exception?”
“Anyone is an intruder to the king,” he murmured dryly. “I am no exception. Essentially, we’re trapped for the foreseeable future. Unless the activation triggered some kind of alarm, in which case we won’t be trapped much longer.”
I drew in a horrified breath and he shook his head.
“If that was the case, I suspect we’d already have been discovered. No, I think this is old magic, possibly older than my father’s reign. We’re simply stuck.”
I let out a slow breath, fighting down the prickling anxiety clawing up my throat. “I thought being the crown prince would be…more useful.”
