Page 28 of The Rejected King
Emree puckered her lips. The king was a professional like her—someone who put on a front for the sake of the job.
The music stopped, and the horns sounded. On the balcony above, the herald boomed out. “Introducing His Majesty, King Davin Parkins, King of Enderlin.”
At the center of the grand hall, two large arched doors that were at least twelve feet high opened simultaneously. King Davin stood behind them in all his confident glory. An audible gasp mixed with excited giggles fluttered through the crowd of women.
Emree took one look at the king, and her heart literally stopped. She imagined her death certificate, the lines detailing her demise reading that she had been killed by handsomeness.
The first thing she noticed was how perfectly his hair curled out from under his gold crown as if he had purposely tousled it before placing the crown on his head. The crown wasn’t even straight; it sat back and was slightly tilted, adding to King Davin’s whole I’m-so-good-looking-and-I-don’t-know-it persona. He wore a fitted black suit with a bright red tie. Emree’s eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and the way his suit jacket pulled across them.
“Well, someone looks handsome,” she said under her breath.
“What?” Millar leaned in.
How had he heard that? She quickly tried to recover. “I said we should sing theanthem. You know...of Enderlin.”
Millar frowned, and Emree looked away.
Nice recovery.
She shouldn’t be distracted by the king’s good looks. She had Portlend, and she wasn't the type of girl that only cared about how people looked. But then again, she was emotionally attracted to the king as well, making everything about his physical appearance stand out even more.
King Davin looked at her. He glanced up and down her dress, then his eyes met hers, his look of appreciation sending a rush of butterflies through her stomach. Slowly, he made his way to the dais. The crowd of women parted, clearing a path. He smiled at Emree as he approached, and it took every ounce of her self-control to mask her expression. She raised her chin, refusing to let his charming smile affect her. But itwasaffecting her. It affected her breath, her mind, and her heart.
“Davin.” A tall, long-legged, blonde girl in a low-cut blue dress reached out from the crowd, stopping him.
Davin? We’re on a first-name basis here?
“If it isn’t Pat Rice,” King Davin said with a smile that seemed to light up his eyes, a smile he had given Emree only moments ago.
The crowd gasped as the beautiful girl moved closer. Her blue dress shimmered against the light in the grand hall, making her sparkle and shine and putting every other girl, including Emree, in her shadow. A murmur rippled through the hall as everyone watched their exchange.
“It’s good to see you,” the blonde said, throwing her arms around the king’s neck.
Ouch.
Something tight like a cramp punched at Emree’s stomach, killing every butterfly. She rubbed her fingers in a circular motion against her abdomen.Definitelyindigestion.
“That’s Barry Kenson’s daughter, Patrice,” Millar said.
Emree nodded. Patrice wasPat Rice.
How clever.
“Her family has been friends with the Parkins ever since the king was little,” Millar explained.
Emree nodded again, adding a smile. “I know who she is.”
She tried to act unphased, but the smug look on Millar’s face suggested he saw right through her act.
Davin
Davin stood onthe dais in the grand hall finishing the formal introductions with each Promenade participant. Sixty women. Ten from each province. He’d had to steady his breath when he’d seen how long the line had been.
He peeked at Emree who stood just to his right. She wore a new dress—a colored dress. Davin had never seen her in anything besides working-class gray. This dress was a deep purple that made her dark hair and brows stand out. He had wondered so many times over the past two weeks what she would look like in color. Well, she looked amazing. And the best part, her hair was finally down, wisping away from her face in loose waves like it had at the Morreck Inn. Not that Davin didn’t enjoy her orderly buns, because he did. Her updos gave him the perfect view of her sleek neck. Who knew necks could be so attractive? Davin hadn’t. At least not until he’d met Emree.
He rolled his eyes. He sounded like a creepy guy with a neck fetish, pining over the one girl he couldn’t have.
He needed to focus.
