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They walked in silence for a bit, then Lachlan said, “I was too scared and too weak to just come out and tell my father I was angry with him. And rather than face him, I embarrassed her into calling off the betrothal.”

“You didn’t care what she thought?”

“Not in the slightest. She wasn’t the only one I did it to.”

“Really?”

“No. I’m ashamed to say. Princess Freida Truisante was one of many princesses and noble women I’ve insulted.”

Tarley wished she could offer words to exonerate him but knew there were none. “This isn’t the Lachlan I’ve come to know,” she said instead.

“I don’t think it would be fair to this better version of me to lie about what I once did. But I feel… different now from then.”

Tarley squeezed his hand, loving that he was sharing this with her. His willingness to open up to her made her feel connected to him in a way she’d never experienced before. “How so?”

“My perspective before meeting you—before nearly dying—was always connected to how things affected me. Never someone else. This second chance has forced me to look more closely at myself and untie the self-centered way I was. What a horrific reflection when I looked closer.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement.”

“I’m a selfish man, Tarley. Let’s not muddy those waters. I’m still selfish,” he said, looking down at the path as they walked into the courtyard of the inn. “I think that was what my father was trying to teach me by sending me to Sevens. That as king, sometimes one must make choices that don’t always align with what we want, but rather what our country, our people need.”

Tarley started up the steps, pulling Lachlan along behind her. “I don’t know about then, but I know about now. And I don’t think you’re selfish. You care about Trevis and Credence and Horance. You never complain about tasks. And when my mother accused you of trying to hurt the queen, you didn’t boast about who you were, you decided to demonstrate your character.”

“I care about you,” he said quietly.

She stopped at the door, opened it, and turned to look at him. “You’ve put your kingdom above yourself.”

He took a deep breath and stepped closer. “I can’t say that’s true anymore.”

Tarley tilted her head to look up at him and knew what she wanted more than anything. She wanted him. She wanted everything. He made her smile and laugh. He made her angry, but he also challenged her in ways no one else ever had. Perhaps she would be the only one to fall in love, but she knew he cared. So when she backed across the threshold into her room, she kept hold of his hand and pulled him in with her.

It just felt right.

“Tarley?”

“I think you’ve earned that kiss. If you still want it,” she said and reached around him to shut the door.

“I do. But–”

“But what?”

“I don’t think it’s true I’m putting my kingdom first anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you. For me.”

“Yes or no Lachlan?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes,” he said in the dark of her room.

She grasped his face and brought his lips to hers, then stepped closer, needing to feel his strength pressed against her.

The fabric of her dress rustled with their movement. When she opened her mouth and touched the seam of his lips with her tongue, Lachlan made a deep rumbling noise, grasped her hips, and pulled her against him with a force to match hers. He angled his head for a deeper connection, his tongue sweeping against hers, an addictive tangle.

She grabbed hold of his bottom lip with her teeth and pulled, sucking, and Lachlan stilled, his shadow looming around her.

He pulled back. “Did you just bite me?”