His brows lifted. “How did you know that?”
“Eyes always to the horizon. Is that right?”
The fingers on her chin loosened, and he dragged his thumb along the line of her jaw.
“Smart little bird.”
Her nose crinkled. “I am not even remotely birdlike.”
Cassius reached up and plucked one of many feathers from her headdress, trailing it over her cheek. She opened her mouth, and then closed it, scowling up at him. He laughed, the sound rumbling in his throat. It was the most carefree she had seen him yet.
“The royal chambers are through here,” she said, gesturing beyond the archway.
He looked down and cleared his throat. “It’s probably best if I say good night here.”
His hesitant expression seemed out of place on his sharp features. For the first time, she wondered if he too had been dreading their union, if even now he only charmed her out of a sense of duty. Guilt singed through her like skyfire. What would he say when he learned the truth? When he discovered all her lies?
“Cassius, I know an arranged marriage likely wasn’t something you envisioned for yourself. It’s not what I saw for my future either. But—” She stopped, nerves bleeding back in for the first time in hours. “I think we could—You seem like—”
“Stop worrying, Aurora.”
The words were punctuated by his hands cupping her jaw, fingers splaying down her neck. She did the opposite of what he said. She worried about the powder on her face that would smudge off on his hands. She worried about his closeness and the state of her breath. She worried he would kiss her and that she would be exceptionally bad at it.
“A treaty has nothing to do with what’s between us. I fight for what’s mine, Princess. Whether it’s against storms or my brother or your stubbornness—I fight to win.”
She eased out of his grasp, bumping into the archway behind her. For a moment, he had held her a little too tightly, the growl in his words a little too fierce. She was not sure how she felt about being his, of belonging to him. As a child, she had belonged to her parents, then as new heir, she had belonged to the kingdom. When her magic never manifested, her life belonged to her secrets. She had hoped that when all was said and done, she could finally belong to herself.
He cursed beneath his breath, and when he approached her again, his words and his face had grown softer. “By now I’m sure you’ve noticed that my family is … intense. The same is true for our home. We’re battered on both sides—storms from the land and the sea. Our proximity to the latter makes our Slumber season so short it’s barely worth calling it a season. When you live in a place so ruthless, you learn to protect the things that matter. To be ruthless in return. I know the shortness of this life, and when I make a decision, I do not look back. My decision was made the moment I laid eyes on you.”
He slid his finger down one of the skyfire crystals on her necklace like he’d done after he carried her up the stairs. She sucked in a breath, and the rise of her chest caused his finger to brush her collarbone. Then he did it again. Not an accident this time. She was breathing fast, clutching at the archway behind her.
His thumb rubbed over her mouth, smearing away the last of the white on her lips. Her eyes fell to his mouth, once quickly, then again for good. He sighed, warm breath drifting over her skin. “This is where I step away and let you go to bed. Before I’m tempted to walk you directly to your door.”
“And that would be a problem because?”
“I’m a thrill seeker. It’s why I have these.” He took her hand and lifted it over his shoulder, until together their hands surrounded the snow Stormheart at the top of his spine. The movement put their bodies even closer, and an icy draft stole over them. She should have jerked away. But instead she arched into him, seeking his warmth. His gaze appeared black again. “If I walk you to your room, if I know exactly where to find you in the middle of the night when the palace is quiet and I can’t sleep … I might be tempted to lure you from your bed for a little adventure. And then we’d both be risking our parents’ anger.”
If he was trying to deter her, he was using the wrong methods. She spent every moment of every day yearning for adventure, and she would gladly take it from his hands.
“What makes you think I’d be so easy to lure from my bed?” she teased.
For the barest moment his body pressed forward against hers—muscles pulled taut, hard as stone. She melted into him, pushing back until their bodies aligned from chest to hip. Then he ripped himself away, leaving her arm hanging in the air and several steps between them.
“I like a challenge, Aurora. Do not offer yourself up as one unless you are prepared for the consequences.”
He nodded his head toward the archway, his muscles tight with tension, and said, “Good night, Princess. Until tomorrow.”
Rora’s body followed his suggestion, slipping through the archway into a wider hallway and out of sight, but her mind was still stuck on the way it felt to be pressed against him. Rora had read of perfect kisses, prompted by perfect words and perfect settings, and she had a feeling she’d just missed a chance at having the real-life version. She moved in a daze, one foot in front of the other, but every step got a little harder, as if a rope around her middle tried to pull her back through that archway to claim that perfect moment she let pass by.
She opened the door to her bedroom, heard the squeak it made, and started to step inside, but her mind was buzzing now. When would they next have a moment this private? The days to come were a series of celebrations and dinners and meetings. There would be people everywhere, always watching them. For all she knew, they wouldn’t have another chance until they were at the altar, and then she would be having her first kiss in front of an audience.
No. She didn’t want to wait. She’d spent years making the cautious choices, swallowing down her most reckless impulses, to protect her secret and the crown. Just this once, Rora wanted something that had nothing to do with storms or being royal. She wanted that kiss.
She tugged the door closed, decision made, and turned back toward the archway. As she was about to step through, she heard Casimir say, “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
Rora halted. She’d been so caught up in Cassius that she’d forgotten about his brother.
Cassius answered, his voice barely above a growl. “Let me worry about that. It’s working, isn’t it? She’s little better than clay in my hands.”
Rora’s ears started ringing the way they did when a loud noise sounded too close.
“Her mother is powerful. Rumor has it that the girl might be more so. I wouldn’t get too confident.”