Page 18 of The Accidental Prince (Accidentally in Love #3)

“ I ’m not giving up our wager,” he insisted. “But there are other tasks to be done. I have to cut wood, if you want to stay warm tonight.” The prince came up beside her but Serena would have none of his excuses.

“And you have to fill that large pot with water.” She pointed to an iron cauldron hanging above one of the hearths. “If I’m to wash your shirt.”

“That won’t work with me, princess. Our agreement was that you’d complete the tasks of an ordinary woman for three days. Not that you would coax me into doing them for you.”

She rested a hand on the door frame, studying him. “I never agreed to be your slave for three days. I agreed to work at your side.” His expression was emotionless, his eyes holding no promises. “Why would I want to wed a man who thinks I’m incapable of doing anything right?”

“That isn’t what I think.”

She cast a glance toward the fish. “Then at least show some fairness in this wager.”

His hazel eyes hardened, but he picked up a knife.

Serena opened her book of cooking receipts and skimmed the pages for a way to cook the fish.

Then she searched for information on how to launder a man’s shirt but came up with nothing.

There was a cake of lye soap, so she decided to slice it up and add it to the cauldron.

Once the prince got the water boiling, it would melt the soap and make the water better for washing.

After the better part of an hour, she found Karl with a pile of fish parts and two tiny fillets, barely larger than her palm.

She covered her mouth with a hand, and he glared at her. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“They’re rather…small, aren’t they?”

He stood up. “The size doesn’t matter, Princess.” He dipped his hands into a basin of water and washed them, keeping his eyes locked upon her. “I think you’ll find that there’s not a single bone in them.”

“I might still be hungry afterwards,” she ventured.

His smile turned wicked. “Then there are other ways I could satisfy you.” He leaned a hand upon the table. Before she could move, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. His mouth was warm, taking hers in a softly demanding conquest.

It shook her down to her knees, though Serena tried to keep her balance against the table.

“I’ll take care of your needs, Princess.” He stepped away and added, “I’ll start a fire in the hearth and fill the pot with water. Then I’ll prepare fires to warm up the abbey interior. Bring the fish inside when it’s ready.”

After he’d gone, she steadied her breathing, understanding that the kiss was only another weapon in his arsenal. He’d made it clear that he intended to try and seduce her into marriage.

Serena distracted herself with the book while he made good on his promises. It would take a long time to boil the water for Karl’s shirt, but she put it into the pot of water. Her gaze fell upon her own clothing, and she picked up her muddied cloak, adding it to the laundry.

As she studied the instructions for cooking fish, using the book to guide her, Serena heard the sound of falling rain. Oh no. She moved closer to the fire, praying it would stop before she had to venture out with the food.

But the weather only worsened. Serena looked down at her hands, and wrinkled her nose at the fish smell. On impulse, she held them out in the rain to cleanse them. It had grown warmer, thankfully, and the water felt good against her fingertips.

The fish needed a few more minutes before it was done, and as she stared out at the falling rain, a strange impulse came over her. As if she were under a spell, Serena took one step, then another, until she stood in the rain, letting the water spill over her.

It was something she’d never been allowed to do. And though she’d regret it later, right now, she wanted to feel the immense freedom of doing something foolish.

The rain soaked through her gown, wetting her hair against her neck. She closed her eyes, lifting her head back, and smiling to herself.

“Have you gone mad?” a voice demanded. Serena opened her eyes. At first instinct, she nearly darted back into the outdoor kitchen. But then, what could the prince do to her?

“I believe I have.” She walked forward, along the cobbled path, until she saw an enormous puddle. With her foot, she stomped within it, sending a splash of water upwards. “I always wanted to do that,” she laughed aloud, wondering what had come over her. “Even as a child I couldn’t step in puddles.”

“You’ve ruined your gown,” he said.

“I don’t care.” She held out her hands, as if she could embrace the rain. The feeling of breaking the rules, of doing something inappropriate, left her feeling wild. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It’s wet.” He stepped beneath the shelter of the kitchen, his own hair dripping from the rain. “And you should come inside.”

Rebellion swelled inside her, and she let the rain soak through her tangled hair. “I don’t want to.”

For a few more moments, she reveled in the storm, well aware that he was watching her. And that he didn’t approve.

She stopped and watched him, never minding the water pooling over her skin. “Haven’t you ever wanted to do anything foolish in your life?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the sort of man I am.” With that, he retreated back into the abbey ruins.

After their meal, Serena stood by the fire in the Great Hall, drying her hair. Although rain fell through sections of the broken roof, the area by the hearth remained dry.

Karl pushed his plate aside, unable to take his eyes off her. He’d expected her to cry or complain about having to do everything alone; instead, she’d reveled in her freedom.

He’d expected her cooking to be disastrous, but once again she’d proved him wrong.

The fish had been perfectly seasoned and cooked tender, after she’d diligently followed the instructions in the cook book.

His princess, it seemed, was more resourceful than he’d expected.

It worried him, for he’d counted on her surrender.

Against the firelight, the wet gown outlined every inch of her corsetless form. He could see the rise of her nipples, and the slender dip of her waist. She had closed her eyes, as if she could absorb the heat from the fire into herself.

“Are you regretting your dance in the rain?” he mused, standing from the table and dodging water that poured from the leaking roof, forming puddles on the floor.

“No.” She stretched and let out a sigh. “I may be wet and cold now, but I enjoyed every moment of it. I suppose I should go and check the laundry pot. Your shirt and my cloak will be clean by now, if I haven’t cooked them.”

He crossed the hall, noticing the weariness on her face. Not a single complaint had she voiced, but the evidence of the grueling day lay within her green eyes. When she left, he sat back and stared at the stone walls. She had succeeded living amid the hardships better than he’d ever imagined.

A quarter of an hour passed, and when she entered the Hall at last, her face looked worried. “There was…a problem with your shirt.”

“Did it shrink?”

“No.” She bit her lip, as if she didn’t know how to tell him what had happened.

With a dismissive shake of her head, she explained, “It’s very wet, and I couldn’t wring it out well.

I hung it to dry in the kitchen. I hope you don’t mind.

” She glanced downward as if expecting him to get angry.

He thought of the bruises on her throat and the way she was shielding herself now.

“I won’t need it while I’m sleeping,” he said. “In the morning will be fine.” She seemed relieved to hear it. “You could find one of the priest’s shirts, if you’re cold.”

“I never get cold.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest, and noted how her gaze was fixed upon him. “But I imagine you are, in that wet gown.”

Her face softened into a smile. “I enjoyed myself.”

“It was foolish.”

“Do you not know how to have any fun?” she countered. “Or were you always this serious?”

“I had fun as a boy, but there’s no place for it as a prince. Duty matters most.”

“You believe that, don’t you?” Her face turned sympathetic. “Being foolish isn’t such a bad thing.”

“You said your father never allowed you to do anything, either.”

“He didn’t. But I learned how to entertain myself in all circumstances.

” She sat down next to the hearth, tracing her finger across the cool ashes that lay just beyond it.

“Sometimes, I would draw pictures of houses by the sea. I dreamed of places I wanted to visit and imagined a quiet holiday from the palace with just me, my sister, and my mother.” She drew lines within the ash, and then ventured, “What about you?”

He sat beside her. “I spent all of my time learning to rule the kingdom.” He hadn’t played, for he had no friends or siblings.

His father had forbidden him any contact with other boys when he was growing up.

And as for Queen Astri…after years of her madness, they had locked her away.

Nothing he’d achieved had ever pleased them.

The memory of the lonely boy he’d been gave rise to a cold frustration.

What reason was there to seek their approval, when they’d disinherited him and turned their backs?

He owed them nothing. The stony emptiness inside hardened into resolve.

He would gain his own kingdom to rule, and prove his worth as a ruler.

He didn’t need them. Or anyone else.

Karl glanced over at Serena, and in her eyes, he saw sympathy. It wasn’t right for her to pity him. He was using her for her kingdom, and he didn’t deserve anything at all. “It’s growing late. You should get some sleep.”

She came closer, her hair in wet strands against her shoulders. The gown clung to her, the water droplets glistening upon her skin. “Not yet.” With a sigh, she moved beside the fire, turning to dry herself.

“Going out in the rain wasn’t a wise idea,” he pointed out. “It won’t be easy for you to sleep.”