Chapter 9

Ari

S alas was in my sitting room. Draped head to toe in his dark cloak, he sat in an armchair by the wall. His large frame folded into the dainty piece of furniture made the chair look like it came from a doll house.

Several guards lingered around, too, but there were only about half of the number Gem had packed in here last night. Her trust in Salas must be growing.

The leader of the guards bowed her head as I entered.

“Your Highness.”

“He’s allowed to wait in my bedroom,” I told her. “And he doesn’t need to be watched in there.”

The guard leader looked doubtful but conceded with another bow, “Yes, Your Highness.”

I marched past her to my bedroom.

“Come with me.” I snapped my fingers at Salas in the gesture for him to follow.

There were no chains clinking this time as he got up and followed me into the bedroom then closed the door behind him.

I opened the patio doors wide. The evening air rushed in, and I breathed it deeply.

“You look very... regal tonight, Your Highness,” Salas stated behind me.

I didn’t want to act regal . I felt his presence with my skin. It was incredibly alluring, making me hate the distance between us.

“It’s the dress.” I turned around as he took off his cloak.

Faced with all his groomed and pampered glory, I drew in a shaky breath.

He studied my midnight blue evening gown stitched with golden skylines of Rorrim’s major cities along the hem.

“The dress is spectacular,” he agreed.

“Representing Rorrim in style in front of foreign dignitaries is a part of my duties.” With my hands behind me, I fished for the ends of the ribbon that laced my tight bodice at the back. “Sadly, the more formal the outfit, the more uncomfortable it tends to be. This one is insanely tight and stiff.”

“Allow me?” He came closer.

Instead of stepping behind me to find the ribbon, he brought his arms around me. Promptly finding the bow by touch, he untied it and loosened the ribbon, loop by loop.

His bare chest was right in front of me. I inhaled as deep as the tight dress allowed, stealing a lungful of his scent. He must’ve misinterpreted it as a sigh.

“A long evening?” he asked sympathetically.

“A formal dinner with an ambassador and about a hundred attendees.”

“Sounds exhausting,” he murmured into my hair. “Tired?”

“Not particularly. No.” The rare, good sleep last night helped with keeping my energy up through the day. But it was nice of him to ask. “I got offered a husband.” I smiled, turning my face up to his.

“A husband?”

“Yes. A very accomplished young gentleman, by the sound of it.”

If I worried Salas might have any reservations or concerns about my future marriage plans, I didn’t need to worry. He seemed completely unaffected, which helped me direct my emotions in a proper direction too.

Salas and I were two strangers from different walks of life. We only met because of a very specific situation, and we would part ways when it was over. In the end, Salas would get a new start a year sooner, and I’d be left with fond memories of him—the most pleasant memories of being with a man I’d have to date.

“Is he the one? Are you going to propose?” he asked, brushing a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

Salas wasn’t a hungry for gossip courtier. He didn’t know which young gentleman I was referring to or even which one of the many foreign ambassadors currently stationed in Egami I’d dined with. Yet it never hurt to be cautious in matters of state importance. I didn’t mention Prince Elbon’s name, or country, or even his title.

“I haven’t met the man yet. It’s safe to say there will be more than one candidate. So, I’ve no plans to propose to anyone for now. Rest assured a public announcement will be made if I do.”

“How long do we have?” he asked.

“For you to teach me everything you know about sex?”

“ Everything?” He smirked. “That would take a very long time, Princess. We’ll never finish the lessons before you need to claim your groom.”

“Well, I’d like not to be a clueless virgin on my wedding night. How long will that take for you to accomplish?”

“Normally, just to get rid of virginity, one night would be more than enough. But with you...” He tugged on the lock of my hair he’d just put away and wound it around his finger instead, looking lost in thought. “Some things just can’t be rushed. You need to be ready. Nothing good comes out of it otherwise.”

Salas had a story. He clearly wasn’t forthcoming in telling it, but I also wasn’t sure anymore if I wanted to hear it.

How much did I need to know about the stranger who could only stay in my life for a night or two? How deeply could I dive into his secrets before I risked starting to care and it would make it unbearably harder to part from him then?

No feelings involved. That had been Salas’s one and only condition from the beginning. My mind agreed with him wholly. My heart, however, squeezed with subtle regret.

“I’ve been thinking about our kiss all day today,” I confessed.

With a finger under my chin, he directed my face to his, his dark eyes flicking between mine.

“Is that a sign, Princess?” he asked softly.

I smiled, remembering his plea to give him a sign when I was ready for more. Hope pulsed in my heart, spreading through my body in a warm wave of desire.

“Will you kiss me again?”

The air moved as he shifted closer, the heat of his body enveloping me.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about that kiss all day,” he murmured, before his lips touched mine.

My mind spun in a twister. I swayed forward, leaning onto him for support as my knees suddenly grew too weak for my legs to hold me.

He made a sound deep in his throat. Sliding a hand behind my neck, he sank his fingers into my hair, bringing me closer. I tilted my head back, parting my lips for him. His tongue found mine, robbing me of breath.

He pulled away way too soon.

Dazed, I brought a hand to my face where my skin glowed with warmth after being brushed by his beard.

“Now I felt it.” I smiled. “Your beard.”

“Sorry.” He ran his thumb around the corner of my mouth. “I got carried away.”

“This kiss was even better than the one last night, wasn’t it?” Lightness elated me. Maybe it was from the wine I’d had earlier. But Salas was also to blame. His effect on me was stronger than that of any wine. Apprehension shifted far back, giving place to joy. “Admit it, I am a damn good kisser.”

My head swam with giddiness. I gripped the ends of his robe to anchor myself from floating away into a happy cloud completely.

“Smart ass.” He grinned.

“It’s ‘Princess’ to you, sir.” I tapped my finger against his wide, hard chest.

By etiquette, he really should address me as “Your Highness.” But I liked hearing the careless “princess” from him too much to insist he follow the etiquette when we were alone.

“My apologies.” He inclined his head, humor shimmering in his dark gaze. “Come here, Princess Smart Ass.” Snaking an arm around my middle, he yanked me to him.

“How dare you?” I gasped in shock and pretend outrage. Him calling me names was a huge breach of propriety, but I was having too much fun to be angry for real.

He read me well, his moods matching mine perfectly.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don’t, I’ll take it as a sign you want me to go on.” Gripping my hair in his other hand, he kissed me again.

I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to. He stole my breath and all my words, and I didn’t want any of that back as long as he just kept kissing me.

Letting go of my mouth, he trailed his kisses along my jawline, then down my neck, tugging at the bodice of my dress.

“I’m going to take this off you now,” he warned, then ordered. “Arms up.”

I obediently stretched both arms over my head for him to take the top of my two-piece gown off.

The bodice was ribbed, lined, and supportive enough to require no bra or undershirt. The moment he removed it, I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my naked breasts. He didn’t seem to mind that, working on untying my skirts. Like everything before that, Salas did it with excellent skill.

After loosening the ties on my overskirt, the crinoline, and the underskirts, he shoved them all down to my knees. The voluminous layers puffed up around my legs like midnight-blue clouds of silk and tulle.

“Now hop out, Princess.” He opened his arms for me.

“Really? Like this?” I jumped up, throwing my arms around his neck.

He lifted me out of the skirts easily, then carried me to the bed. I buried my face in his shoulder, loving a little too much how easily he carried me across the room, how strong his arms felt, and at the same time how gently he held me. He pressed his lips to my shoulder, the tickle of his beard keeping the smile on my face.

When he laid me down, I remembered that I had on only my short underwear and my kitten-heel sandals. I crossed my arms over my chest again as he carefully removed my heavy formal crown.

“Do you want your glasses on or off?” he asked.

The glasses were already kind of foggy from our mingled breath during the kissing. I also wasn’t sure if I had to see every single detail of what was about to happen.

“Off, please,” I said. I couldn’t remove them myself with my hands shielding my breasts from view.

He took the delicate frame between his thick fingers and carefully took off my glasses. I closed my eyes as he did it. Then, I felt a light kiss on the tip of my nose and... froze.

This kiss was not necessary. It was a sign of affection. People kissed each other on their noses for fun because they liked each other. He didn’t need to do it, but he did, as if he couldn’t help it.

With my eyes tightly shut, I heard the sound of my eyeglasses being deposited onto the night table. Then Salas returned to kiss me where he was actually supposed to, first on my mouth, then on the side of my neck. His beard brushed my skin. I exhaled a laugh, but the sensation quickly turned from ticklish to tantalizing, sending tingles of excitement down my body.

This was new and different. Being this close to him still felt a little unnerving but with more thrill than fright now. When he slid a hand up my side, his thumb touched the underside of my breast, and I stiffened.

“Do you like this, Princess?” He nibbled on my neck gently. “Do you like it when I’m kissing you here?”

His questions distracted me from the position of his hand under my breast. A wave of warmth rushed down my body as my muscles relaxed. I stretched like a cat.

“Let me kiss more of you,” he murmured against my collarbone. “Let me show you how good it can feel.”

His hand skimmed down my hip, then around my back to cup my butt cheek. His thumb slipped up and under my underwear.

My breathing turned shallow. Sweat dampened the bedding under my spine. This was no longer new and exciting. His hands in my underwear brought an echo of something dreadfully familiar and highly unwelcome.

Sensing the tension gripping my muscles, he ran a soothing hand up and down my side. “It’s all good, Princess. You’re safe. Sex is supposed to be fun.”

Supposed to . That was what they said. But now, the memories from that other world tried to creep into my awareness, soiling the light moment with darkness. Dread gripped my throat.

Salas gently traced the swell of my breast above my hand that I kept holding over it.

“How about you let me kiss just one for now?”

His voice, light and playful, bounced through the darkness like a ray of sunshine, and I followed it, letting it guide me back to him.

I even managed a smile. “You mean just one boob?”

“Hmh,” he hummed, kissing my collarbone. “Just one. As a test. If you don’t like it, you can hide it from me again. Which one are you willing to give up? Left or right? Which one is your least favorite?”

I snorted a laugh. It was brief and filled with nerves, but he managed to make me laugh in a situation that could wreck me with fear. I let my hand fall away from the breast closest to him.

“This one?” he purred, leaning closer. “Poor thing, why is it your least favorite when it’s so gorgeous?”

He cupped the breast with a light squeeze, and I drew in a shuddering breath, struggling to keep it together.

“Not your hands, please. Just your mouth...” I begged. “Your kisses.”

He paused, but only for a second. “Gladly.”

His warm breath fanned over my skin before the tip of his tongue traced my areola. I tried to focus on my breathing, but all my senses quickly narrowed to that one warm, slick touch dancing on my breast.

Sparks of desire skittered through my chest, then rushed down to my lower belly. Arching my back, I pressed my breast into his mouth. He hummed approvingly, dragging his tongue over my nipple. It pebbled under his caress. Taking the tip into his mouth, he gently rolled it between his teeth.

Pleasure zigzagged with lust through my body, arousal pooling between my thighs. I bent my legs, digging my heels into the bedding.

Salas slid a hand down to my ankle and unbuckled the strap of my sandal, then took it off, and tossed it to the floor, all while sucking on my nipple. By touch only, he found my second sandal and disposed of it just as quickly.

Letting go of my breast for a moment, he lifted his head. “Will you trust me with your most favorite one now, Princess?”

A smile sprang to my lips. I removed my hand from my other breast, too, leaving it at his mercy.

He raked his gaze over it. “Just as beautiful as the first one. I have a really hard time choosing my favorite.”

He grinned before sucking my other nipple into his mouth. Need pulsed between my legs. It thrilled me that I could finally feel it with someone else, not just when I was alone.

At the same time, the awareness of him held me back. A shiver of pleasure ran down my body, and I tensed, subconsciously trying to suppress it.

He caressed my side with his fingers, staying away from touching my breast, just like I’d asked him.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he coaxed, speaking with his face so close to my breast, his beard brushed over my erect nipple with every word. “What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?”

“Who told you I do... that?” I wished so hard I could somehow stop myself from blushing. But the treacherous heat already flushed my face and neck.

“Don’t you?” He kept stroking my side, slowly trailing his fingers along the curve of my hip then over my ribs.

A warm sensation spread through my entire body, making it hard to focus.

“Tell me your fantasy, Princess,” he implored. “What do you think about when you come undone?”

What , not who .

He understood me enough to know there was no person I fantasized about, no man I wanted.

“A river...” I watched a beam of moonlight on the ceiling. The light undulated and ebbed in a slow dance, following the movement of the curtains in the breeze—like water in a slow stream. “Sometimes, I pretend I’m floating on my back in a warm, dark river.” It wasn’t easy to put into words the scenes conjured by my imagination, especially since they were mostly sensations, not images at all. “The stream caresses my body...”

“Like this?” He skimmed his hand down my side again, then over my belly and upper thigh. Pleasure rippled in the wake of his light touch.

“Yes,” I exhaled. “Just like that... Hands then rise from the water. I can’t see the people, and I don’t care who they are. I just feel their hands. They’re soft and gentle. And they are... everywhere.”

His hands felt nothing like the apparitions from my fantasy. His were wide and warm, with hard calluses that scraped my skin lightly. But their touch was as gentle as I needed. Releasing a breath, I relaxed.

“Just like that,” he murmured approvingly before closing his mouth over my nipple again.

A glide of his tongue, followed by a slight press of his teeth, sent a spike of desire through my core. The throbbing between my legs ached, and I shifted my legs open.

He took it as an invitation. His hand promptly slid between my thighs. I gasped, momentarily mortified, but he quickly found the place where I wanted him so badly. A swell of pleasure flooded my body as he slowly circled my clit. My thighs trembled.

“Oh Goddess,” I circled my hips, following the blissful sensation of his touch.

“Is it here where the river hands touch you in your fantasy, Princess?” Salas whispered between licks and nibbles to my nipple that sent steady bursts of arousal through my body.

How quickly he’d taken over my fantasy.

And how accurately he’d made it a reality.

“Yes, right there...” A wave of pleasure rolled through me, quickly followed by another one, longer and building up in intensity.

Salas’s touch proved better than a million disembodied hands. He played my body with more skill than even my mind could direct it.

I whimpered, raising my hips into his caress.

“Harder?” He rubbed faster. “Do you want the hands to invade you, own you, rip you to pieces, then put you back together again? Do you want me to make you come, sweetheart?”

I trembled in need. My fingers fisted into the sheets, I thrust my hips into his touch.

“Salas... I...”

“I know, Princess.” Kissing my breast, he set my orgasm free with his hand.

The explosion of pleasure rendered me speechless. I shut my eyes, letting it take me. For a few blissful moments, the world fell away.

And when I opened my eyes, I found Salas watching me. A gentle smile played on his lips as his hand worked me, tenderly bringing me down from the height of climax. But despite his best effort, I didn’t go down gently. I plummeted.

“Don’t.” I circled his wrist, yanking his hand off me.

The fog of lust evaporated. Reality rushed in, and it wasn’t soft or sweet. Earlier, there had been something exciting about being at my most vulnerable with someone else in the room. Now, it felt more awkward than anything. I grabbed an edge of a blanket and pulled it over my naked body, shielding it from him.

This was the first time I’d orgasmed in someone else’s presence.

Why didn’t I feel elated like I did after our first kiss?

Maybe because he just watched instead of panting and sweating through his own orgasm with me? For a few moments, I lost control completely when he didn’t. The feeling I had now was similar to if I were the only naked person in a crowd.

“Have the hands in the river pleased you?” He kissed my shoulder as I turned to my side, facing away from him.

Now, he also knew one of my fantasies that I had never shared with anyone before. I had opened a door for Salas that wasn’t meant to be open for anyone, and there was no longer a way for me to close it.

He stroked my arm, and it took all I had not to shake his hand off me. It’d be petty and unfair to punish him for things he had no clue about.

It wasn't his fault that his mentioning of “hands” now brought forth the memories of many other hands that had touched me against my will. Rough, eager, unskilled hands that took without giving.

“Boys will be boys.” It was always said with a smile to excuse even the most outrageous behavior as a “phase,” a normal stage of growth.

The boys at my school always ran in packs, like hyenas. For fun. And for added courage during their attacks. They laughed like hyenas too. The sound cut my hearing, as if they were here. Or worse, as if I was suddenly transported back into the past, into the world I thought I’d left behind for good.

I pressed my hands over my ears to block the sound.

“Princess?” Salas’s concerned voice reached me through the cacophony of noises in my head.

“I wasn’t always a princess...” I exhaled a breath, the words trailing out of my mouth with it.

Were they loud enough for him to hear?

It didn’t matter. I wasn’t even sure if I kept on talking or if the memories just thundered through my brain, images morphing into words for the first time ever.

It happened practically over summer, when my body changed. I got my first period a few months earlier. I grew taller. Got boobs. It was all so new to me. My body didn’t even feel like my own. In my mind, I was still the same kid I was last year, playing hopscotch and jumping rope. But they looked at me and saw someone else. Not even a someone. Just something. Something to grab and rub themselves against until they came.

I wasn’t the only one. All girls had it happen to them. The teachers would yell at the boys if they got caught, but nothing was done to stop them from doing it again.

“Boys will be boys.”

And the girls had to pay for that...

I didn’t want to remember.

Nothing good came from those memories, only shame and disgust. But they barged in, unbidden.

They locked me in a janitor closet after school once. One of them stayed outside, letting the others come in and use me in any way they dared or knew how. A janitor, an old woman, yelled at them and threatened them with her broom, sending them scurrying away like cockroaches. I ran...

After that, I tried to be especially careful. I’d ask to use the bathroom before the last bell rang at the end of the day, so I could run home while everyone else was still in class. I stayed away from dark hallways and ate my lunch sitting on the floor in front of the teachers’ lounge. But they still caught me outside near the playground area that spring.

They ripped my dress and broke my bra. The one who did it fell backwards when the bra clasp snapped. I used the chance to run away.

Mama yelled at me for the ruined clothes and slapped me. The bra was a hand-me-down, the only one I had. There was no way my parents would buy me a new one. When I came to school without it the next day, they said I did it on purpose, that I liked being groped, that I was a whore.

That I was asking for it...

Repulsion ran through me in a shudder.

An arm hugged me gently. With his touch, the memories ebbed, and I gasped for air.

“Salas.” I turned to face him, grateful for the lifeline of his hug that pulled my mind out of the past.

Did I voice any of those memories out loud? I wasn’t sure. But he looked like he’d heard it all.

“It’s been years...” I muttered. “Long ago. In another world. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“If you want to talk more, I’ll listen,” he replied simply.

I shook my head.

“I don’t want to talk. Don’t want to remember. I left that world. I just wish it would leave me too.”

He stroked my hair, gently easing the pins out of my up-do and dropping them on the nightstand.

“Sometimes talking helps. Even the darkest things are less scary if brought out into the light.”

“Does it really help?” I asked. “Is that how you deal with your past? You talk about it?”

His hand stilled in my hair.

“No. I’ve had other ways to deal with it.”

“And did they work?”

“My past has no hold on my thoughts anymore,” he said with conviction.

If that indeed was the case, I envied him.

“Lucky you.”

“Yes,” he echoed. “Lucky.”

I FELL ASLEEP WITH my nose pressed to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me. The position was unusual for me, not even the most comfortable, but warm and safe. I used Salas’s large body as a shield against the nightmares that threatened to spill from my memories into my dreams. And it worked. I got a few hours of uninterrupted, dream-free sleep and woke up to the sun already rising over the horizon.

He snored softly with his nose buried in my hair. When I moved my head, a deep rumble sounded inside his chest. He shifted closer, his hips hugging my thigh.

We shared a blanket this time. I’d never put a nightshirt on last night, and his sarong must’ve shifted during the night. As he leaned into me, I felt no barrier between his skin and mine. Hot, naked male body pressed against me, and one part of it felt considerably harder than the rest.

Alarm jolted me, shaking off the remnants of sleep. I slipped from under his arm, somehow managing not to fall off the bed in the process. I grabbed a nightshirt from the trunk at the foot of the bed and put it on belatedly.

Salas groaned softly, hugging my pillow instead of me. Sprawled like that, his massive body took more than half of my spacious bed. Yet he didn’t look threatening. Almost a child-like serenity settled over his face. Mussed overnight, his hair fell over his forehead, and I resisted the urge to brush it away for him.

Tenderness warmed my chest. I realized I hadn’t even fed him last night. Our dinner sat untouched on the table by the couch. The spreads and sauces might’ve gone bad overnight, but fruit should still be good.

With a platter of sliced oranges, grapes, and cut-up fresh pineapple, I padded back to the bed.

Salas stirred. His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered open. It took him a moment to gather his bearings as he stared at the silk pillow in his arms. Then he seemed to remember where he was.

“Morning, Princess.” He grinned, falling back into the pillows.

I could get used to seeing this smile every morning, and I didn’t think I’d ever grow tired of that greeting.

“Morning.” I sat on the bed and placed the fruit platter on the blanket between us. “I should probably ring for a real breakfast, with coffee and stuff.” I wondered why I hadn’t done so already, but deep inside, I knew the reason.

Salas and I had no past and no future together. All we had was the present, so I tried to stretch every moment we had, trying to keep it free from any interruptions.

“It’s early.” Salas rubbed his eyes, hiding a yawn. “When do you usually get up?”

“Six. That’s when the maids come to help me get dressed. But I’m often awake before that.”

At least I woke up in time to have breakfast with my parents this morning.

I popped a grape into my mouth, then took a segment of peeled orange from the plate and offered it to Salas. Instead of taking it from me with his fingers, he lifted his head and took it from my hand with his lips, then tossed his head back onto the pillow, chewing with a blissful smile on his face.

“Am I to feed you now?” I narrowed my eyes at such audacity. His happy expression made it hard to be upset with him in earnest, however.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Spoil me, Princess.”

Humor shone in his eyes. He squinted in the sunshine, rising on his elbow as I sat on my knees at his side. The shroud of his initial gloomy indifference had slid aside, allowing me to see the other side of Salas—the happy, easy-going side that loved fruit and sunshine.

Smiling, I picked up another piece of orange and brought it to his mouth. He took it from me again, lightly brushing his lips against the tips of my fingers.

“Good?” I asked, suddenly unable to tear my eyes away from his lips.

“Excellent.” He grinned. “Best breakfast ever.”

I ate another grape, then fed one to him.

Rising on his arm, he brought his face closer to mine.

“Why do you get up so early? You’re a princess. You can sleep in whenever you want, can’t you?”

“Well, I have a country to run. The queen has shifted many of her responsibilities to me over the years, getting me ready to accept the crown from her one day.”

“Can’t the country run on its own for a day? What’s the worst that can happen?”

A lot of things could happen, some with potentially dire consequences for Rorrim. I had another council meeting this morning. Then, the head of the city guards was to deliver her report to the queen, for which I had to be present. The ambassador lunch came after that and another formal dinner tonight. My failure to meet with the foreign dignitaries could be taken as an insult to their queens, which in turn could lead to an international conflict.

I picked up another grape and brought it to his mouth again. Feeding him somehow proved more fun than eating myself. “My job comes with no days off.”

“Then, you’re long overdue for one.” He accepted the grape. “Come on, Princess, spend the day with me—”

I stuffed a piece of pineapple into his mouth, cutting off his words of temptation, but that didn't stop me from feeling tempted. The prospect of spending an entire day with Salas, not caring about the time passing by, was too enticing to refuse outright.

We could talk all we wanted, eat breakfast, and laugh loudly the way I never dared in polite company. I had no idea what we could talk about the whole day.

Did we have enough in common to have a conversation that long?

I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t mind finding out.

I wouldn’t be opposed to more kisses, either, and maybe to more of what he did to me last night.

“Sex was supposed to be enjoyable.”

Finally, those words started making sense to me.

Holding my wrist, he casually licked the pineapple juice off my fingers. It seemed effortless, with not a drop of awkwardness or pretense, like we were long-term friends, comfortable in each other’s company. I had no idea how he did it—whether he really felt this comfortable with me by now or he was just an excellent actor—but my own awkwardness had thinned too.

When he released my wrist, I moved my hand to his hair. The neat style the groomers had arranged it in yesterday had fallen apart during his sleep. His thick russet tresses with copper highlights were disheveled from sleep, making him look younger, even vulnerable, and truly adorable.

I ran a hand through his hair. “I should find you a hairbrush.”

“I hate to say it, Princess, but you need one too.” He flicked a long strand of my hair that hung over my face.

I giggled. The sound immediately shocked me into silence. I never giggled.

And suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted. I cupped his cheek, filling my palm with the slight prickle of his beard. With my other hand, I squeezed his shoulder. His body felt strong and solid under my palm. Reliable.

I shifted closer and kissed him.

He held still as I pressed my mouth to his. Tasting the pineapple on his breath, I licked the sweetness of the fruit from his lips, and he parted them for me in an invitation for more. It was like a dance, and I enjoyed learning every step of it.

My control slipping, I leaned harder against him, accidentally knocking him off balance and sending him back into the pillows while crashing on top of him with a laugh. My hand remained on his cheek, my fingers deep in his beard.

“Did I feel your beard this time?” I wondered. “I can’t even tell.” All I remembered of the kiss was my head spinning, the sweet taste of the pineapple, and a sudden wish for more.

He seemed to fight a smile, but it crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes, sparks of humor dancing in his irises.

“You wish to feel my beard, Princess?”

Rising to me, he rubbed his cheek against mine. I laughed, falling backwards into the bed. We knocked over the plate with fruit, the grapes rolling everywhere.

“Now look what you’ve done,” I squeezed out through laughter.

“Let’s clean it up.” He caught a grape and popped it into my mouth, then grabbed another one for himself.

I lay on my back, eating the grape and watching him. The sun shining through the patio doors behind Salas turned the ends of his hair into a copper halo around his head. The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. The look in his eyes was light and easy. And I had a hard time reconciling this smiling, playful man with the one I’d seen tied to the gallows and whipped.

I cupped my cheek in some semi-conscious effort to preserve the prickly sensation of his beard pressed against it.

“Stay here today,” I said, without giving myself a chance to overthink it. “I have two meetings, an ambassador lunch, and a large, formal dinner after. But I’ll be back tonight. The maids will bring you breakfast and anything else you want. You can rest, have a bath, or take a nap. I can get them to bring you some books from the library. Uh... Can you read?” Literacy was not a given among the men of the lower class where many slaves tended to come from.

“I can read.” He nodded. “But I won’t stay.”

“Don’t you have a day off today? Since you spent the night with me?”

“I do. But I have plenty of things to do too.”

“Like what?” I frowned, recognizing a lame excuse when I heard one.

“I just remembered that I need to tidy up my bunk in the barrack,” he replied flatly. “And it’s my turn to do the dishes after lunch.”

“How exciting.” I climbed from the bed and collected the plate with the remaining fruit.

“The life of a slave is filled with excitement,” he deadpanned. “But I also remembered something that I should never forget, not even when your freckles manifest themselves so enticingly in the morning light.”

“What did you remember?”

“That you are the crown princess, and I am who I am. You have dinners with ambassadors, and I have my contract with the slave owner. And so it will remain.”