Page 14 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

So the high prince wasn’t taking a snack break? I plodded toward the office, passing a trayless Mykal along the way. We said nothing—this wasn’t the time or place—but our gazes slipped over each other. Her stress mirrored mine.

In the open doorway, I paused, inhaling with purpose. Oops. Terrible idea. I couldn’t see the morsels Mykal had delivered, but I smelled something sweet, and my mouth watered.

“You’ve already received permission to enter, Roosa.” Irritation laced the HP’s tone.

Ugh. Not a great start. “Yes, sir.” I entered the enclosure, legs shaking. The closer I came to him, the more of his scent I detected. All that fairy dust and ambrosia, a very soft fragrance for a very rigid man. I couldn’t inhale deep enough.

“Sit,” he commanded. His facial brand appeared paler and tauter than usual.

I obeyed, trying not to ogle the array of fruits and vegetables plated on his desk. Oranges, strawberries, and some kind of green berry, but also more pastries with apples and figs. My nails sank into my knees. If he ate those culinary delights while I watched, I might scream.

He reclined in his seat, getting comfortable, exuding his usual confidence. “You aren’t winded like the others, but you’ve exercised longer.”

Stop staring at the food. “I enjoy running. A fact you would know if you’d read my file as you claimed.” Eek. Not something I should have said aloud.

“Oh, I’ve read your file. It did indeed mention your propensity for logging five miles in the morning and five miles in the afternoon, sprinting to and from work.”

I hated that he knew so much about me while I knew so little about him. “Did you read everyone’s file with such attention to detail, or am I special?”

To my surprise, he pushed the tray my way and said, “Pick something.”

Enjoy a treat, after snapping an inappropriate response at a commanding officer? This must be another test. But to submit or reject, that was the question. No one else had gotten fruit, and I might be resented if I gave in. Or deemed foolish for turning down sustenance.

What would Roman do?

Ugh! Awful question. Terrible. He wasn’t a role model. Unless he should be?

Make a decision! “No, thank you.” Probably the most difficult refusal uttered by anyone in history, and I wasn’t being dramatic.

The HP canted his head, as if confused. “Tell me why.”

“You’re testing me.” An honest answer for someone who claimed to revere the truth.

For a split second, a mix of disappointment and irritation glittered in his irises, and I thought, wondered .

.. no. Impossible. No way he’d ordered the food just for me.

Or waited for it to arrive before calling me into his office, all to give me a taste of what I’d sought yesterday.

What a silly notion. Not just impossible, but beyond unlikely.

Revealing nothing else, he tsk-tsked. “You are failing left and right, Miss Roosa.”

Miss , not lady . “How am I failing?” I demanded, then remembered my place and withered. “Please explain, sir.”

“Absolutes are unbecoming on the lips of novices.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Then you have more to learn than I realized.” He tapped his fingers against the desktop, the muscles in his forearm flexing, and oh, I didn’t like that I noticed. “Why didn’t you use your darts, the sole weapon at your disposal? It would’ve helped you win a title you clearly craved.”

We were jumping into the fire now. I pled my case. “A dishonorable victory isn’t a victory. I gave my word, and I kept it, winning everyone’s trust.” Maybe. Hopefully.

“So you disregarded my command to fight for yourself first in order to curry the favor of your teammates.”

“Not even a little. As you’ve informed us, they will one day become true teammates. Their lives might end up in my hands. If they cannot trust me, I cannot help them and they cannot help me.” I huffed. “Did you accuse the others of endangering people they will eventually protect?”

“I did, yes.”

Damned if we had and damned if we hadn’t. “Both choices can’t be wrong. Sir. High Prince.” I pushed the title through clenched teeth.

“Motive is the beating heart of every action,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if it was an explanation or a rebuke. Probably both. “Do you think you made the correct decision?”

I struggled to put together a cohesive thought.

Maybe I should have fought for the title and crossed lines.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, bowing my head.

When I boiled my own motive down to the dregs, I discovered a clear winner, and it had nothing to do with the other soldiers. “My eyes were on the prize.”

“You’re not sure,” he echoed, his flat baritone somehow sharper than a blade. “You don’t even know yourself, Miss Roosa. How then are you able to recognize a true prize?”

He’d called me miss again, as if he didn’t see me as a soldier.

Of course, I wasn’t a soldier. But he was wrong about everything else; I did know myself.

I just lacked confidence in myself. There was a difference.

Always in the back of my mind I wondered if I was making a terrible mistake.

Even now, I wasn’t certain I’d done anything right. In fact, I was more confused than ever.

Rather than defend my declaration, which could be a huge mistake—see!—I shifted in my seat and said, “You are my instructor. So, instruct me. Tell me what you would have done in my place?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I have been in your place. Ten years ago, I stood in that same ring. Like you, I opted not to shoot. For me, it wasn’t necessary.

I invited every candidate to unload their darts into me.

Having trained for such a time, I knew I could handle the toxin’s effects, no matter how high the dose.

With a single act, I proved my strength and protected my team. ”

That was kind of, well, wow. Awe inspiring and wise, but also insane and kind of hot.

But only kind of! He wasn’t my type. Not that he was interested in me romantically.

Unless he was. But he wasn’t. “The difference is, you spent your life training for the military. I’ve only ever wanted to grow food and flowers. ”

“Perhaps, but you are in the military now.” His features hardened. “Shall I tell you where you went wrong, or do you prefer to continue making excuses?”

His previous description clanged between my ears. Lipstick on fear. “Please do,” I said, leaning toward him, eager to learn. I’d only been begging for an explanation since minute one, my craving for correction far surpassing my annoyance with him. Correction equaled progress.

“A strong leader takes command of a situation, but a smart one recognizes an opportunity.” He paused, considered his next words. “Why do you think Cured offers the top soldier such a staggering prize?”

I hadn’t considered it before, but I considered it now. “So everyone will work harder and do their best?”

“Yes. We’ve already established one of your greatest weaknesses is your indecision. If a team trusts your character but not your commands, will you be an effective leader?”

“No,” I whispered.

“If you are not an effective leader, are you a candidate for top lady?”

“No,” I repeated, hanging my head.

“But as a lady at the bottom of the barrel, you now have a chance to rise in the ranks rather than crumble under a weight you aren’t yet strong enough to carry. You have room to defeat your fear, grow to understand your strengths, and gain the experience you lack. Do you acknowledge this?”

Suddenly, I didn’t have to wonder if I’d made mistakes. I had. “Yes,” I croaked. He’d pegged me with fiery dart after fiery dart of honesty.

“Fear doesn’t forge good leaders, Miss Roosa.

It destroys them.” Drumming his fingers over the arm of his chair, he watched me, silent.

Though he was in his late twenties, his harsh features contained a century’s worth of tenacity.

Caged aggression glittered in his eyes. “If you’ll let me teach you, you will survive longer than originally anticipated. That’s my guarantee.”

“Sir, yes, sir. High Prince.” I stared down at my wringing fingers. “Thank you, High Prince.”

He sighed. “You are dismissed.”

Feeling as if I’d gotten spanked but maybe, possibly, a little grateful for it, I stood. Clarity was a gift, and his severe but fair critique had scraped off several layers of confusion. Considering how behind the curve I was, I had a lot of work to do in the coming weeks.

“Be Cured , High Prince Dolion.”

“Be Cured ,” he muttered, shifting his attention to the tray of snacks.

For a moment, I thought I sensed raw loneliness and soul-shattering fatigue in him. But that couldn’t be right. He wasn’t lonely or tired. He was ... him.

“Is there something else?” he asked without glancing my way.

“No, sir.” I hurried from the office and rejoined my teammates. Hopefully my day improved. I was due for an upgrade.