Page 19 of Crown of Thorns
I roll my eyes at her indulgence and make my wayover to where she’s standing on the edge of the pier. I put my hand next to hers on the bottle and ask, “On three?”
“On three,” she agrees.”
“One…” I whisper.
“Two,” she winks.
“Three,” we say together and swing the bottle back before letting it sail into the stern, where it smashes, raining bubbles down the side of fresh gray paint.
“For king and country!” she shouts.
“For king and country!” we all repeat together.
Afterward, we take a tour of the ship and meet the bulk of the men and women who are responsible for it. Overall, it’s a good day even if the vice admiral keeps scowling at Dahlia. Things move along fairly well until the lieutenant asks if Dahlia’s seeing anyone. I’m not sure who’s going to lose their shit first: Gabe or the vice admiral. Both look incredibly pissed.What an interesting turn of events.
I want to lean over and tell Gabe that Dahlia can’t stand the vice admiral so there’s no reason to worry about him as competition, but I’m trying to be on my best behavior and that means we can’t be buddies in public.
The last thing Rhys needs hanging over his coronation is me in the center of a scandal. If anything, I’m trying to keep my head down and out of the picture completely, my thoughts and feelings are so complex and all over the place.
Chapter 7
In or Out
The ride back to the castle is quiet. Both Dahlia and I have our thoughts turned inward as we each stare out the windows at the passing landscape.
Gabe, I’m sure, is brooding in the other car. Although I still don’t fully understand the dynamic, I get why.
By the time we climb the hill and pull through the private drive, I’m exhausted. All I want is a hot bath and bed.
The car pulls to a stop and Leo climbs out, opening my door for me. “Thank you,” I say quietly, and he nods before Dahlia climbs out of the car behind me. She looks odd, there’s something off about her and I don’t know what. But when her eyes finally meet mine, I want to weep at the hurt I see on my friend’s face.
“I don’t think I’m feeling up to dinner tonight,” shesays quietly. “It was a good day.”
“It was,” I reply.
“Welcome back to the firm,” she says with a genuine smile before turning on her slim heel and walking into the building.
I close my eyes and pull in a deep breath.
“It’ll be all right,” Leo says from beside me. “These kinds of things have a way of working out.”
“Yeah,” I whisper even though I don’t believe it. And then I turn on my heel and walk into the castle, Leo trailing silently behind me until I make my way to my suite door.
He’s disappeared to whatever secretive lair he goes to when I turn around to close the main door behind me.
“Meow,” I hear as Leo the cat prances out from the bedroom, his tail swishing high in the air.
“Hello, my baby,” I coo as I scoop him up. He snuggles into my arms and purrs as I walk through the suite.
I kick off my heels as I pad through the sitting room and into my bedroom. I drop Leo onto the bed as I make my way into the bathroom and flip the taps to fill the massive antique tub. I could use the extra snuggles after the long and confusing day, but cats and water and all that.
Back in the bedroom, I carefully unbutton my coat dress, letting it slip from my shoulders before placing it over the back of a chair. I pull the pins from my hatand toss them all on the dresser along with the hat. I’m too tired tonight to pick it all up; I’ll do it after a soak and a nap.
I make my way back to the bathroom, my brain swirling with all kinds of thoughts. I’m unable to let go of the day while not being completely sure why it’s left me feeling so unsettled. I scrub the makeup from my face and pluck the pins from my hair before brushing out my long locks. Then I twist them up into a messy bun on top of my head to keep them from the bath water.
I apply a mask from a jar that screams it was absurdly expensive when its main ingredient is sea kelp. Maeve has reminded me time and time again that it is my job to look as good as possible while supporting the king in his duties, and that includes things like fancy face masks and long tub soaks. Both are things that I’ve not often indulged in before.
Rhys’s stepmother likes to remind me that I’m not good enough and never will be. She wants me gone even more than I’d like to be gone from here—even if the thought of leaving opens a pit the size of a black hole in my belly. I look at my reflection in the mirror, my face covered in green goo that’s supposed to keep me looking youthful, though I’m still in my twenties, and wonder if I should get fat and grow pimples. Would that make Rhys let me go? And if he did, would I survive it? Because that’s why I tried to run in the first place. Not because I didn’t love him, but because I do.
