Page 34 of The Cornish Princess
So he’d claimed: Her mother’s pursuits weren’t an accurate measure of Gwendolyn’s worth, but a testament to the Queen’s fears. After all, she’d come to Cornwall to bear the King an heir, and she’d given him, not only a girl child, but a girl child whose humanity was questioned. Alas, that it was questioned most oft by the Queen herself was the worst of it.
“And did you spend those tears alone?” he asked carefully.
Gwendolyn inhaled sharply. “Nay,” she said. “Always with an audience, but fortunately, he is sworn to secrecy.” She smiled sadly.
“Your Shadow?” he said now, reaching for her hand and drawing her close.
Gwendolyn’s heart leapt within her breast as he spun her about, only to walk her backward, following until she found her back pressed against the cavern’s wall.
“I give you my word, Princess, and vow to flay any man who dares make my queen weep.”
Gwendolyn blinked, her heart beating faster. A shadow entered the cavern—one that had nothing to do with the bright sun shining beyond the cave’s entrance.
“T-thank you,” she said, unnerved by the dark look that fell over his comely features. She peered at the cave’s entrance—not so much because she was afraid; she was not.
Wouldn’t that be silly? The Prince was her betrothed, bound by a promise that could not be broken. And didn’t he just say he would flay any man who dared to make her weep?
“Fortunately, I am not so maudlin these days,” she said, reassuring him. A smile found its way through the mask of uncertainty, her gaze drawn again in the entrance’s direction.
Gods.No matter his promise, his smile made her feel…nervous.
Gently, he touched a finger to her cheek, and the tenderness of the gesture sent an odd tremor down her spine. So much as she adored Bryn, she had never once felt such a fluttering in her belly whenever he’d gazed upon her—yet this must be a good thing?
His presence filled the entire cavern, demanding her full attention.
Eyes round and wide, Gwendolyn stared into his eyes so long she felt the tide creeping into the back of her boots. “Prince Locrinus,” she began.
“Please, Gwendolyn… call me Loc,” he suggested.
When Gwendolyn didn’t at once respond, he added, “As you and I are soon to be wed, I would have you address me more… intimately.”
Gwendolyn nodded. “Loc,” she said, testing the name on her lips.
The weight and feel of it made her lips burn hot, and once again, she turned to peer in the direction whence they’d come…searching for what?
They weren’t in danger, not really.
The tide never rose too swiftly, and even if it did, those rocks on the other side of the cave were accessible enough to allow them to climb easily to the safety of the alcove.
He smiled lazily, following her gaze. “And yet… I must wonder… doesn’t it bother you to keep an elf at your heels all day long?”
Gwendolyn blinked in surprise. “Elf?”
She was startled by his use of a name that most people wouldn’t consider polite—no matter that, of late, she sometimes thought it herself. “I—”
She closed her mouth again to better consider her answer.
Really, it didn’t bother her that Málik was half-Sidhe. She didn’t have a problem with anyone’srás. She was only nettled by oneSidhein particular—thatSidhe, the one she now spied loitering on the beach. “He is harmless,” she argued. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Indeed.”
“I have never met an elf who knew his place.”
Gwendolyn didn’t consider her actions—that it might offend her betrothed to correct his behavior. She pressed a finger to her lips to admonish him.
“Shhh… voices carry,” she apprised.
