Page 25 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

A n hour later, the results were in.

Out of the one hundred votes cast, Tristan gained the highest support from the soldiers with thirty-two votes, followed by Grant with twenty-four, Emmett with eighteen, Rose with fourteen, and Dawnton with twelve.

She joined in the applause as the candidates received their congratulations.

Although she felt let down by her low number, she held her head high.

Dawnton, on the other hand, did not accept his results with as much grace, furiously whispering into his father’s ear, glaring daggers at her when he caught her staring.

She wanted to congratulate Tristan, but the thick crowd made it impossible to move anywhere.

She’d only managed to make it a few feet when a voice stopped her.

“You’re looking as lovely as always,” Grant remarked above the clamor. “Congratulations on your number.” She almost took it as sarcasm, but then he added, “If it’s any consolation, I would have added another vote to your roster if I weren’t in the running.”

A weary smile spread on her lips. “Thank you. I’d say congratulations are in order for you, too. I wasn’t sure you’d get five men to join your cause.”

Grant’s emerald eyes shone brighter at her taunt. “I may not have recruited as many men as your lover, but it’s all I need to win tomorrow. I go for quality over quantity.”

“Of course you do.” She rolled her eyes.

Grant slid closer, bridging the distance between them as his lips hovered near her ear. “If I get you, that’ll be the true prize, won’t it?” he whispered in a voice she was sure let him get whatever and whomever he wanted.

She raised her chin so she was only inches from his face. “I wish you all the luck in the world,” she said with a smirk, repeating her words from the ball.

A large, dazzling smile broke out on his face, lighting up his eyes. He boldly stroked her cheek. “You may just be worth all the work, Rosalie Versalles.” He broke eye contact, his gaze straying behind her.

She followed his gaze to find Tristan looking murderously at the pair.

Of course.

Taking a quick step back, she said, “Excuse me.” She meant to leave, but the sea of people blocked her quick escape.

Grant caught her arm with little effort.

“I didn’t mean to taunt him.” His face was filled with rare remorse.

She tried to pull her arm away, but he held it firm. “It’s exactly what you meant to do.”

He pulled her closer, forcing her to face him. “Why can’t I show you off? Why can’t I flaunt you? If I marry you, I’ll make sure every man in the room is jealous of me.”

“You don’t want me ; you just want a gem on your arm.”

“I’ll prove to you it’s not true.”

“I suppose you’ll have to,” she bit back, finally freeing her arm. “I’m afraid I’m tired. Please excuse me.”

“Let me walk you back to your room.”

“No. Good night, Grant.” She exited the grand hall, feeling the stares of both Grant and Tristan piercing her back. She didn’t look back, not even to see if Zareb was behind her.

As soon as she got to her room, she sent Thea out and began undressing herself, changing into her nightgown.

She was just pulling back the sheets when a gentle knock came.

She froze, straining her ears, wondering if she’d imagined it.

Tap… tap tap… tap.

She recognized the pattern at once.

She cracked the door open only a sliver to see Tristan.

Without thinking, she let him in.

Just as she closed the door, the last shred of her self-control was stripped away. She knew she should have shoved him right back out, but instead, she flung her arms around his neck, crushing him into her body.

He froze, caught off guard by the sudden gesture, but he welcomed her, crushing her against his chest. “I wanted to come scold you,” he whispered. “Damn you, I just forgot all the snarky remarks I prepared.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder. “I’m sure I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t deserve any of it.” He brushed a stray strand of her hair away. “You were incredible tonight, Rose. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to the council like that.”

A smile cracked onto her lips. “So were you. Truly.”

Tristan lifted her jaw so she peered straight into his bottomless eyes.

“I don’t care what my father says. Now that we’re both in this succession, I want to face it together—just like you said, not as two separate candidates, but as one.

I promise to support you in every way possible.

My men are just as much yours as they are mine. ”

Her gaze softened, touched at his unwavering loyalty. He wanted to be a team, to win not just for his sake, but for hers, too. A wave of gratitude flooded her heart, melting her defenses away.

“You’d do that?” she whispered.

His eyes roamed her face, becoming hazy. “Rose, everything I own already belongs to you. We can just consider this a… rigorous relationship exercise.” His mouth turned upward into a smile.

She smiled back, her heart beating faster.

He held up his pinky. “You and me?”

It was something they used to do when they were younger. She intertwined her finger with his. “You and me,” she repeated.

The moment her finger latched on to his, he leveraged it and pulled her into him.

“We’ll be the fiercest king and queen this province has ever seen.

” He stroked his thumb across her cheek.

“I’m sorry about earlier… I just can’t stand how Grant looks at you and how I thought you were looking at him. ”

She pulled away. “Listen, Tristan, I need you to be honest about something… Have you been dissuading suitors from seeing me?”

He massaged the back of his neck as his eyes lowered. “Would you be angry if I said yes?” He braved her gaze again.

She let out a sigh and rested her forehead against his before responding honestly. “No. I suppose I ought to be, but you’ll have hell to pay if my mother confirms it.”

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he apologized at once, “but I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

The mere thought crippled her heart. “Come sit.” She tugged his hand, her pinky still linked with his.

He sat down on the bed first, leaning against the headboard. She joined him, resting her back against his chest.

His strong arms snaked around her waist as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

After a brief content silence, he spoke. “Can you imagine falling asleep like this?”

“It’d be the best night’s sleep I’d ever had.” Her body ached for it as she said the words.

“Or the worst,” he murmured huskily into her ear. “When we get married, I’m certain I’ll barely let you escape to eat.”

She tilted her head to meet his gaze, her mouth splitting into a grin before his followed suit.

He placed a feathered kiss on her forehead. “I like seeing you like this,” he whispered against her skin.

“Like what?”

“Relaxed. Happy… I haven’t seen you like this since you’ve been back,” he said as he played with her hair lazily.

“It was simpler then. No one cared what we did.” She hesitated, contemplating what was ahead of them. “What will we do if we don’t win the succession?”

“What do you mean?”

“If neither of us wins, what would we do? Where would we go? What happens to your family?”

“You doubt us?” He raised his eyebrows at her with a small smile playing on his lips.

She shook her head. “I just wondered if you’d thought about it.”

“Well, if we lose by some terrible circumstance, my father is still the king. So until he dies, this will be our home. My mother will not outlive him, I’m afraid. Even if she did, she’d move back with us to our home in the mountains.”

“Highland Haven,” she recalled. She had never been to the manor, but the name lived well in her memory.

Tristan and his family spent a few weeks there every summer for their family retreat.

She longed to see what it was like, but she and her mother had never been invited.

It remained a special place meant only for their family.

“But what about you?” she asked. “Would you be happy there?”

“As long as I had you.” He kissed her temple.

“I never thought I’d be king. I knew there was a slight chance if something happened to Xavier, but I never planned this.

I’d be disappointed if I didn’t become king, but I’d live…

I just can’t stomach Grant being the next king of Cathan.

The thought alone gives me the determination to win.

” He gave a harsh laugh as a pause fell. “Are you worried?”

She sat up to face him. “I just don’t want whatever happens to change… this.” She cupped his cheek.

He wrapped his hand around her wrist, pressing her hand firmer against his face.

“How do I get it through to you? Each and every bone in my body belongs to you. Every drop of blood, every daydream, every simple breath—hell, even every inappropriate thought belongs to you. I think of you every chance I get because seeing you isn’t enough.

It’ll never be enough. And in case you ever foolishly forget, I’m never not thinking of you. ”

Her eyes fluttered as tears pricked; never had a man spoken to her like that. The absence of affection with her father had never let her believe that love could exist. She didn’t know what to say. How to tell him how much those words meant to her.

Her mouth became dry. “I love you, Tristan,” she whispered.

It was the first time she’d uttered those words to him.

His body stiffened beneath hers. He gazed at her like he was questioning if he’d imagined it. Once they sank in, his steady eyes wavered. “And I’m the luckiest man alive because of it.” He drew her in, kissing her temple again.

This time, he lingered close, his gaze shifting to her lips then back to her eyes.

The last of her willpower failed. She settled herself onto his lap. “Kiss me,” she coaxed in the softest, most persuasive voice possible.

His jaw clenched, resisting the command. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Her eyes grew together, hurt.

“Because if I start… it’ll be the end of me,” he whispered, as if he knew that once he got a taste, there would be no going back.

“No… it’ll be the start .” Her hands grazed his soft, blond hair, sliding her fingers through the smooth curls.

Unable to hold back any longer, she closed the gap and pressed her lips against his, moving slowly and gently as she molded them together.

For a moment, he was unresponsive. Terror surged through her veins, wondering if she’d made a grave mistake.

She was about to crawl into a hole from embarrassment when his lips came alive, responding to hers.

He drank from her like she was a bottomless well, as though he’d been roaming the seas with no fresh water, and she was the first drop he’d come upon in weeks. He quenched his thirst greedily for fear he’d be dragged back to sea.

It wasn’t like their first kiss. No, that kiss, initiated by Tristan over a year ago, was quick, nervous, and impulsive. This kiss was intentional. Purposeful. Deliberate. Grown.

He combed his fingers through her hair, settling at the nape of her neck. She suppressed a contented sigh.

Within moments, their breaths became heavy.

His hands roamed over her back, moving down to her hips, drawing her closer.

She encircled his neck with her arms, pressing herself as close as she physically could. It was better than she’d ever imagined. To finally feel him like this—to know what he tasted like beyond those lips was all she’d dreamed of.

In one fluid motion, Tristan guided her onto her back, his form hovering above hers.

His lips left hers to graze her neck, caressing it with the utmost grace.

Without warning, he ground his hips into hers.

A soft, grateful moan slipped from her lips.

He grappled a fistful of sheets at the mere sound.

The next moment, he was gone, shooting upward off the bed.

His wild hands tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he gasped for breath. “Damn you, Rose,” he growled, pacing on the rug.

“I’m sorr?—”

“Don’t.” He pivoted to face her. “Don’t ever apologize for that. You’ll make me think you regret it… and I couldn’t live with the thought.”

Her cheeks heated, her chest rising and falling hard as her lungs fought for air.

She forced herself to stand, maintaining a safe distance.

He came straight to her, cupping her face. “You are everything to me. Everything ,” he whispered, gazing at her in a way he never had. “If I carry on like that, I won’t be able to stop… Gods, I’d never stop.”

A flutter flew in her stomach, trying to control the impulse to kiss him again as he continued.

“I want to do this the right way. As the goddess you are, you deserve nothing less. I will have you, Rosalie Versalles. As the gods as my witness, nothing in this world can keep you from me… me and you,” he whispered.

She leaned her forehead against his, reassured by the childhood sentiment. “Me and you.”

He took a deep breath as he regained his composure. “I hate to say it, but I should go. My family will be furious with me if they find me here. Roman’s bound to be looking for me to discuss tactics for tomorrow.”

“Right. Of course.” They’d need their full strength for tomorrow’s challenge—they’d be up at the crack of dawn before long.

Still, he leaned back into her, his mouth so close his lips brushed against hers as he said, “I’ll miss you.” The way he said the words… they had a whole new depth than before.

“I’ll miss you, too,” she whispered back.

He pressed another soft, feather-light kiss onto her lips, reigniting her simmering heart. “Good night, Rosalie,” he mumbled, looking ready to pick her up and lay her right back down on the bed and take her anyway.

Instead, he gave her hand a final squeeze and departed as swiftly as he’d arrived.

Her heart continued to race long after he’d left.

They would win this, and they’d win it together.

She’d burn all of Vallor if she had to.