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At least, he would’ve said that he wasn’t. He had played the part of one with her just now.
He was, perhaps, more his mother’s son than he wanted to admit.
He had genuinely gone up to check on her, and he had been overwhelmed by his need. The need that he had been trying to suppress. The need he had been trying to hold back.
He had been at the end of his restraint.
So he had claimed her. With no thought.
This was the path to madness.
The door to his room opened, no knock.
“What are you doing?” he asked when he turned and saw Stevie standing there.
“You came into my room yesterday without knocking. I thought it was fair. Plus, you just…banged me against a bookcase. I don’t think we need to stand on ceremony.”
“This is my palace.”
“If I’m going to be your wife, then it’s going to be my palace too, and you can’t act like this. You can’t behave like an unpredictable child. I don’t deserve this. I deserve some communication. I deserve something a little bit better, don’t you think?”
“I can’t speak to that.”
“Well, then, I guess we shouldn’t speak at all. And maybe we should forget this. Entirely.”
“I’ve no intention of forgetting this.”
“Then we need to talk. Why are you so… Why are you so bothered by this?”
“Because I refuse to have feelings for you that I cannot control. It would be disastrous. Not just for you, not just for me, but for the entire kingdom.”
She didn’t know what to do with that. This admission that he might be in danger of having feelings for her. It was such a… Such a very strange thing.
Though it was also a terrible thing to know he thought that feeling something for her was such a terrible, terrible fate.
As if caring for him would be better.
No. It wouldn’t be. He was selfish and capricious and loving him would be an awful thing.
It could be devastating.
She didn’t feel especially…special. She never had. But if he was afraid of developing feelings for her, did that mean that… That at least in her own way, she was? That she was something at the very least, something more than just a good pick to be his princess. Something more than just a woman that he felt some sexual attraction to—because he must.
She crossed the room and looked at him. “I don’t want to get hurt. Not any more than you do.”
His lips curved upward. Into sort of an incredulous smile. “I’m not worried about being hurt. What worries me is becoming a shell of myself. Becoming a leader who cannot lead in the way that he should. That is what concerns me. Because I know what is important. And I must keep my eyes on that.”
The little bubble of hope that had just existed inside of her burst. As if it had never been there.
It wasn’t really about her. It was a strange wariness. Something that had to do with his father. And his mother, because he had immediately connected her to his mother because of her desire to continue doing her job even as a princess. It had less to do with her specialness, and more to do with his lack of trust.
“I don’t think that I have the power to make you a shell,” she said. “There’s no need to worry about that.”
He reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist. “But I can’t control myself when I’m around you.”
She realized that coming from him, that was a compliment. Or at least, he thought it was.
“I can’t… I can’t keep my hands off of you. You were a virgin, Stevie, none of that makes sense.”