Page 126 of The Throne Seeker
She simply nodded.
Rose was about to stand, but he scooped her into his arms again. Too easily. Too smoothly. And she was too weak to resist. She found herself needing his body—it was the only comfort she could get. Like a snake coiling onto a heated rock, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing her face into his shoulder so no one would see her tearstained cheeks.
Roman walked in large, brisk strides, taking the long way through the corridors to avoid the crowds.
She opened her eyes and she was in her room.
He set her gently onto the bed. “I’ll get you some new clothes.”
“What about the celebration?” she asked, masking her flinch.
“You don’t have to go. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t know why you even agreed to be in the ceremony.”
She smoothed out her dress. “At least the hard part is over.”
He looked like he disagreed but didn’t say it aloud. He went to her closet to pull out a new dress. It was one her mother would’ve never chosen unless they were in mourning. The black dress had long sleeves lined with swirls and gems, with a sweetheart neckline. She hadn’t worn it since her father’s—since he’d died.
“Do you… do you want help?” Roman asked, his smooth voice washing over her from above.
She gazed up at him with vulnerable eyes. She should refuse his offer. She could do it, after all. It wasn’t as though anything was wrong with her arms or legs, but she still said, “Yes.”
Roman stepped behind her, his hands finding the laces of her dress. With deft fingers, he loosened it. The fabric slid off her shoulders and pooled at her ankles, exposing her dress slip. Averting his gaze, he picked up the soiled fabric.
Without warning, he took the green dress and tossed it into the fire.
She blinked in surprise.
“Don’t think anyone will miss that,” was all the explanation he offered.
When he looked back at her, he froze, his eyes latching on to the sight of her exposed skin.
His gaze engulfed her like a black hole swallowed a star, like quicksand swallowed unsuspecting prey. Like a storm swallowed a sinking ship.
Her cheeks burned hotter than the roaring fireplace.
She wrapped her arms around herself, vainly curious if he thought she was pretty. But then she reminded herself that the queen had asked him to look after her today. He was followingorders—nothing more. Embarrassed for even thinking it, she brushed aside the ridiculous notion.
She stepped into the dress he held open, reaching for his shoulders to lean on. Once it was pulled up, she shifted her shoulders to him so he could tie the back.
He brushed her hair over her shoulder, his fingertips accidentally grazing her bare skin.
Her body shivered involuntarily at the touch.
His movements paused for a moment, but then he continued, tying the laces in smooth strokes.
Once he was finished, she faced the mirror. Her makeup had taken permanent damage. She sat at the vanity to fix it, grabbing a cool rag off the desk to rectify her puffy eyes. Next, she picked up a makeup brush, bringing it to her face. But as soon as she did, she couldn’t do anything with it. Her shaky hands made it impossible.
She let out a frustrated sigh, tears pricking at her eyes again.
Without warning, Roman’s large hand snaked around her wrist, stopping her. Gently, he lowered her hand, forcing her to put down the brush. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, gazing at her reflection in the mirror.
She couldn’t get over how different his voice was. Though low and rough, it was also warm and comforting.
A voice meant to rip you to shreds or carry you to the top of a high mountain.
He let go of her hand. “Come on.” He gestured to the door. “I want to show you something.”
Thrown by the sudden change of plans, Rose asked, “Where are we going?”
