Page 21 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy (Spies and Royals #4)
Chapter Ten
“ I just want to understand,” Charisse said. “I don’t want to create problems in your…” she lowered her voice, “marriage. You must care about her very much.”
“It’s complicated,” Achilles said quickly.
“Bris and I are friends. This is…” He was finding it harder and harder to explain without breaking his confidences.
“Bris and I… we’re not like normal people.
” He repeated what Bris had told him after they’d decided they were a bad idea.
It was a hard lesson for all of them. “We can’t follow our hearts.
” He frowned at how that sounded. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.
Her blue eyes grew larger, more tearful. “Aren’t you happy? I’d hoped that I would be the one to… help you settle down at last.” Her fingers found his cheek, and he froze. Yes, that had definitely been the wrong thing to say .
He drew back a couple of steps, his thoughts going back to the electricity between him and Bris when they’d kissed—the first time over the altar and then a few days ago…
and this obsession over his wife wasn’t making any sense—it never had!
He couldn’t follow his heart! Marrying her had been his duty.
Poor Bris was crying in her father’s study when she’d found out her fate of being forever entangled with him, so why was he allowing his feelings to muddle his usual good sense when it came to falling all over her?
He swallowed. He had to get a grip on himself. “It’s best we forget about happiness.”
Charisse scoffed with teary eyes—that thing women did when they were torn between crying and mocking. “They’ve stolen everything from you, and you just let them. That’s not you! You fight… you’re a fighter!”
She didn’t understand. His mother’s life was in danger. “This is just the way things are.”
“Well, they got their pawn,” Charisse said, venom turning her voice bitter with disappointment. “Everyone here seems to know it but you! You’ll be a prince consort, not even a king, just a minstrel dancing attendance on that—that ice queen.”
That was harsh. “Charisse…” he began.
“You’ll have less a voice than you had before.
” She waved her hands wildly before they landed on his.
“How could you? After everything you told me about what they did to your family? My father’s been telling me stories about that regime and his communication with your father and…
you’re absolutely right. Your father was assassinated.
No question about it. He stumbled onto something big, and they killed him before he could do anything about it.
Are you going to let them steal your life too? ”
His attention snapped to focus, everything else fading as her words hit him like a physical blow. She knew something—something concrete about his father’s death. The familiar rage and grief twisted in his chest, but now there was something else: hope. Could he really get the answers?
“Wait, what?” he asked, his voice sharp with sudden intensity. “What did you hear?”