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Only now, they triggered the memory of my own spasms and the way Aleric had dropped to his knees before even realizing what was happening. The way he’d reached for me like…like he wanted to touch me? To soothe me?
I’d reacted poorly, and then I’d reacted entirely out of character by kissing him, even though I couldn’t stand him.
At least, that’s what I needed to keep telling myself because the truth was, I wanted to see him again. Badly. Imissedhim. I sat in the car, hating myself for leaving and hoping he’d pull out one of his classic asshole moves to make it easier to walk away.
Instead, he’d reacted with hurt. As he should have.
Why did I have to be such a dickhead?
“Putain, something’s actually wrong, isn’t it?” He carefully crawled onto all fours, then swung his legs off the bed. His feet hit the floor with a dull thud, and he adjusted them before turning to face me. He reached out a hand, then pulled back when I flinched. “Someone hurt you?”
Technically, yes, because I counted as someone, and I was the goddamned master of hurting my own feelings. “Bad day on set.”
“That little twat who’s dressing up in disability costume?”
I winced. It felt wrong to say that about Aleric now. The more I spoke to him, the more I understood why he’d auditioned for the role. He couldn’t fool me. I knew the wheelchair bit was part of it. I’d seen the way people responded to disabled characters. I’d seen all the movies that won major awards for them.
But he wanted more than just an Oscar moment, and it was wild that he was using my life as an escape from his own. Like my life was somehow so much bigger and better. God, what would he think if he knew the truth? If he knew how sorry and small I was compared to everyone else in my family.
“Camillo—”
“I think I need to be alone,” I snapped.
He looked hurt, but I struggled to give a shit, which I knew made me even more of a monster. It took more effort than I wanted to exude to roll onto my side, but I managed it just as I heard him slip off the bed.
After that was a slow symphony of his orthotics, his clothes, his crutches, and a quiet sigh when he was done. “I’ll see you later?”
“Mm.” I couldn’t say yes. The truth was, I wasn’t sure I could metaphorically get it up for him again. But I didn’t want to say no. If everything crashed and burned, I’d end up my same old needy self, and he’d be my first call.
“Take care, Your Highness.”
I cringed at the sound of my title on his lips. The only person who had ever made it feel like a gift was the person I had been the most unkind to for no reason at all.
I was halfway to the main kitchens where they kept the good sweets when I heard the sound of feet behind me. I didn’t bother pretending like I wasn’t being followed, and I was entirely unsurprised to see Cillian in his sweats, which were so long they almost covered his feet, and no shirt showing off the abs of a man his age had no right to possess.
He’d been one of my guards for a long, long time. He’d started when I was twelve—fresh-faced, right out of the military and a long tour, which had hardened both his gaze and his heart. But he was fierce, loyal, and protective.
And he still blamed himself for not being in the car with me the afternoon of the accident, as if somehow he could have shielded me with his body. It was something we’d gone round and round about until I gave up trying to convince him otherwise.
He was a friend to me in ways no one else had ever been and a father to me in ways neither of us acknowledged because it meant admitting my own father was absentee. Most kings were, of course. They were parents to an entire nation, so what was I? One small soul who would never represent crown or country?
But that was a big, fat, bitter pill to swallow some nights when I was in pain and lonely and needed comfort. Cillian had never been too proud or too full of himself to sit beside me and hold my hand while I cried.
And he never made me feel weak for it.
He had, however, made me feel a bit of an ass tonight—which I deserved after the way I’d left Aleric, then demanded that he keep it a secret.
“Conscience eating at you?” he asked as I started toward the kitchens again. He knew my guilty habits a little too well.
I ignored him until we were past the swinging doors. Luckily, no one was around, and luckily, there was a banquet coming up in the early afternoon, so the table was full of pastries. I grabbed a pain au chocolat and leaned back in my chair as I took a massive bite.
“You can’t stuff your face all night, Cam.”
I hated that I let him get away with shortening my name. “Watch me.” I chewed loudly, and he snorted.
“I’m not your nanny. Masticated food doesn’t offend me. You forget where I grew up.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, I stared at one of the kettles on the counter and debated about a cup of tea, but I was too lazy, and I wasn’t about to ask Cillian to make me one. “Trust me, I don’t forget anything about you.”