19. Reeves

nineteen

I was the biggest jerk for not kissing her.

I wasn't sure if the pounding in my chest was the excitement of the attraction, the anger about my failure, or a flat-out heart attack.

Part of me wished it was a heart attack so I would not have to face her again.

Or King Aswell with his army.

I didn't want to explain to her how I couldn't handle being in the room with her for even another five minutes.

I knew my limitations. If I kissed her, I'd pay for it for the rest of my life. And maybe it would have been worth it? Maybe that would be a highlight I could brag about when I'm eighty.

The day I kissed a princess!

But I wasn't who she needed.

She was off-limits.

I could be wrong.

Maybe I was wrong.

Could I be wrong?

I shut my eyes and rubbed my temple, trying to tamp down the pressure. There's no way anything would ever work between us.

We were stir crazy from being cooped up together for so long.

Yeah, that's it.

It would be better in the morning.

I flattened out on my bed, letting my hands rest behind my head and forced my eyes to close. Just one more night and she's gone tomorrow.

"There he is!" King Aswell unsheathed his sword, pushing the tip to my neck. "You thought you could get away with stealing my bride." He threw his head back and laughed the cruelest of laughs. I didn't dare move because I was pinned. He jabbed the tip of his sword into my neck.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Frigid drops plucked down on my neck, springing me awake, and I jolted to an upright position. Panting, my thoughts popped in my head like fireworks.

It was another nightmare.

Water was falling from the ceiling.

I'm not being executed. Only drowned!

That's the best news ever!

I grabbed my chest, my shirt soaked all the way through, but not from roof water. It was clearly hot sweat. I slipped off my shirt, but still didn't settle. Instead, a cough tore up my burning lungs, and my eyes glued to my bedroom door. I needed water to drink, but she was out there.

She had to be sleeping.

I doubted it was even midnight, and the wind was muffled outside as if it was finally getting farther away. I could be stealthy and sneak into the kitchen, grab a bottle of water, and be back before she heard me.

Before I talked myself out of it, I headed out. One step inside the living room, I halted on my heel. Erralee was sitting completely upright on the couch staring blankly at the TV, a late news show was on. The sound was muted, but closed captions were scrolling along the bottom. Clearly, she was not asleep. I slid my foot backward, but it was too late. She spotted me, and she gave me a look I didn't need.

One that pulled me to her.

"Water," I coughed out, pacing to the fridge. I retrieved a bottle and downed most of it in one pull. "Need one?" I huffed out as I came up for air and her eyes were still locked on me. Is she looking at me like that just because she knows it affects me?

"Sure," she eagerly accepted, sounding way too awake.

"Here you go." I tossed one underhand, and spun on my heel, eyes focused on my bedroom door. "Back to bed—"

"Reeves," she cut in, her voice sounding more urgent than usual.

I made the mistake of letting my gaze sweep to her as she pulled a stray hair over her shoulder. Even through my sleepy haze, she seemed to have a magnetic force drawing me in. This roommate experiment was going to be the death of me. I couldn't survive if every time I came out of my room, I'd have to pretend to be indifferent to her presence. I'd rather take my chances sleeping in the dilapidated barn.

"What do you need?" I answered like I was talking to my drill sergeant, even clicking my heels together out of habit.

"I don't need anything." Her hair was swept over one shoulder, and she anxiously twirled the end of it with her fingers. "I can't sleep."

"Err, maybe open a window, and get some fresh air?" I darted to the living room window, grateful to have anything to do that meant I didn't have to look at her. I cracked the window enough to feel the rush of cold air while I scanned the sky for signs of dawn. Nothing but black sky for miles. My legs were itching in urgency to go outside and get away. I could fake an emergency. Before I had time to think up something, she stalled me.

"How do you make decisions?" she huffed out as if all her potential prospects were terrible.

I slowly moved, peered back to her and saw a glimmer of hope I hadn't seen in days resurrected in her eyes, compelling me to take her concerns seriously. However, I wasn't going to budge. I couldn't risk getting any closer. I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. "What do you mean?"

"I've never been allowed to decide anything. Now that I'm no longer allowing my father to dictate my future—" She wagged her head back and forth as if that would fill in the rest of her thoughts before gesturing toward me. "You have this whole life that was your idea. How'd you do it?"

"I always knew I wanted to serve my country. That was non-negotiable for me." My lips twitched, as I mulled over my life, but oddly, they landed on a smile. "Neither was my decision to farm. After being in war, I wanted a normal boring life. I wanted to wake up every day, and know I'd have the same reliable coffee in the same mug. I would do the same things every day, and trust that, at the end of the day, I'd have the same bed to sleep in at night. After living with so much uncertainty while at war, all I wanted was stability. Eventually, with time I want a family." My smile inflated, tacking on. "I think the family will be the best part."

Her nose wrinkled at the top as she pulled her lips into a small grin. "I didn't know you wanted kids."

Why is my brow suddenly beading with sweat when I'm standing next to an open window in winter? Surely it had nothing to do with the pining look she was flashing at me. "Yeah, it's not something I'm actively thinking about right now." I tossed up a shoulder, trying to downplay how much I'd planned for this next season of life. "I've always wanted a big family. Some people are just born knowing what they want to do."

Her expression went blank, as if she was staring into a void. "I think maybe I was born knowing what I wanted to do, but my father quelled it out of me."

I started to suspect this conversation had two meanings. On the surface, we were talking about her life, but with the way she was looking at me, I wondered if she was trying to ask me something else. Something that made me suffer deeply. "It's not too late to get it back." I speak softly, a little afraid of the direction this conversation is going.

Her brows were raised in preparation for her question. "How do I do that?"

"Just ask yourself what you want to do?"

"I think I want a normal life too." She shifted in her seat as if my words made her uncomfortable. "That would take a miracle."

We were interrupted by my phone alert, echoing from my bedroom. I was still in a few army calling trees for first responder notifications. It always felt good being first to find things out about any emergencies. Sometimes it was annoying. But with Erralee's dear friend, Weston, on the frontline, I darted to the bedroom and grabbed for my phone.

Emergency news update: King D'Long was treated for a heart attack at his home and is now being airlifted to the hospital. The Queen asks for prayers for him, as well as asking for reports on the whereabouts of Princess Erralee, who is still missing.

My heart hammered inside my chest. If Erralee had been wavering before, this would have put her over the edge. I couldn't keep it from her. I crossed the room again, but I didn't need to show it to her. The soft light of the glowing TV filled the room with closed captions flashing across the bottom with the same emergency news bulletin.

"I did this," she breathed out in a voice so weak, it was as if any sound would break her chest. "My father's dying, and it is surely some heavenly atonement for my sins. If I could have predicted something like this would happen, I would never have left," she rambled as tears flooded her eyes and a tremor of panic must have shot through her, because everything from her fingers to her jaw shook with little flutters. "Clearly the stress of this war—this never-ending brutality that I could have stopped—has finally come to claim him," she went on as if she was presenting an argument to herself. Her tone was getting harsher with each word. "Not to mention the added pain of finding me gone, and then having to break the lifesaving covenant he had tried so hard to obtain." Her hand found her chest, as if holding her heart would stabilize the pressure she felt as she fused her argument. "That was all on me. I have to go home to fix this before it's too late. It's all my fault."

"You didn't know." Dying inside to see her upset, I stepped closer, closing the gap between us. Even though she was standing, I could feel a weakness encapsulating her frame. Maybe I had a premonition, but I reached out, just as she collapsed into my arms, sobbing as if it was the antidote to cure her dad.

I dropped my face into her neck, inhaling her. It wasn't the proper time, but I understood she'd go back without hesitation. This was the lightning bolt that brought us both back to reality, putting us in our proper places. But before I let her go, I needed just one selfish minute to tattoo her scent, her essence onto my heart, and I selfishly held her. When her cries softened, I dropped my gaze to hers. "I'll drive you home in the tractor. If you stay here any longer, I will fall in love with you, and we both know that can't happen."

Her eyelids quivered as if she was absorbing a bullet to the heart, and her breath audibly hitched in her chest. It took every ounce of strength I had to pull away, knowing exactly how she'd whither in that marriage. It wasn't what I wanted for her. If it had been up to me, I'd beg her to stay, and promise her the normal life that she said she wanted. I could give her that much. It was what we both wanted, but it didn't matter.

Everything we wanted had fallen away.