Alessia, though, is a whole different story. When I steal a couple of glances at her, the conflict is written all over her face. One moment, she’s giddy as a child, and the next, she’s holding her head in her hands, looking ready to cry. It wouldn’t be strange for a member of the royal family to have never dated before, but I wonder if she’s never even fallen in love before, and if that’s making this ten times harder on her. She was only planning to use me, after all. Love was never in the cards for her—at least until now.
I almost grimace at that word. Love. It feels too strong for a pre-arranged political union. I’ve met plenty of aristocrats that were involved in arranged marriages and learned to love their partners over time, but it’s not the same as the commoners I see falling in love, getting married, and starting families together. There’s something unnatural about falling in love after the fact. It’s like the feelings are only created over years of learning to live together with no other target for their affection.
And yet, somehow, this doesn’t feel like that type of situation. I had no warning, unlike my aristocratic friends. The night of the Wedding Ball, I could have walked home a free man, but instead, I was chosen for marriage, given a room, and suddenly became the future patriarch of my entire nation. This isn’t a political ploy for power; this was Alessia’s choice, and no matter her intentions, personal preference was still involved. She had to have seen something in me other than usefulness, right?
Great. Now I’m overthinking things.
I shake my head at myself. Who cares what Alessia thinks? I think I’m hot as hells, whether or not she agrees.
Still…. I glance over my shoulder, noting Alessia’s intent gaze. I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy her mentally undressing me. It’s quite the confidence booster, especially after she wiped the floor with me earlier today.
I offer my arm to Alessia on our way back upstairs, which she accepts more readily than I expect. The slightest tinge of pink highlights her face as we walk along the palace corridors, the spellglass lights flickering overhead. The light of the moon is just beginning to filter into the courtyards when we arrive back at Alessia’s room. She pauses before opening her door.
“Um…I only have one bathroom. Do you mind washing up at Mina’s place?”
I roll my eyes. “We can take turns, Alessia.”
“I don’t trust you not to barge in.”
“I’m not as perverted as most men.”
“I didn’t mean to—Ugh, never mind.” Alessia pushes her door open, pointing to the spiral staircase. “You first, then.”
I can’t help but chuckle to myself. As far as she’s come already, it’s only day one of learning to love for this ice queen. It’ll take a lot more than a romantic sunset date in the countryside to have her falling in my arms.
Wait…falling in my arms?!
Now it’s my turn to have the pink blush on my face. Grabbing my clothes, I hurry upstairs, turning the water as cold as it will go. I splash it all over my face until it goes numb.
Acknowledging that I’m slowly falling for a very hot, ornery, and strong woman is one thing. Anyone could fall for her. Daydreaming about her, though? Absolutely unnecessary.
When I can’t stand the cold anymore, I drain some of the water, add in a soap puck, and fill the tub with hot water. I lean into the back of it as the warmth finally relaxes my muscles. I feel one of the knots in my upper back suddenly untie itself when I float on the surface.
“I’m so glad you have one of these,” I sigh.
Seriously, these magic soaking tubs were life savers after my knight training sessions. Some mornings, I couldn’t move because I was so stiff and sore. Sore muscles don’t count as injuries, and if I let a healer tend to me, I never would have gotten stronger. That’s just the way building muscles goes. There’s no cheating it, even in a world full of magic.
“I’m glad I have one, too,” a voice says quietly.
“WHAT THE—!”
I sit up so fast, some of the water sloshes over the side of the tub and onto the floor. Standing there, in the middle of the bathroom, is Alessia, still dressed for our date. She’s staring at me unflinchingly.
“Uh…I thought you were embarrassed about sharing a bathroom?” I say, my voice a little pitched. “Unless I’m going crazy, you said I was going first, right?”
“You were taking too long,” Alessia says flatly.
My heart leaps into my throat when I realize there’s only a layer of bubbles stopping her from seeing all of me. Gathering all the bubbles as close to myself as possible, I say, “Cool. What’s the time limit, exactly?”
“There is no time limit. I just thought of something, and I wanted to share it with you.”
I scrunch my brows together. “So…are you impatient, or do you have something to say? Which is it?”
“A bit of both.”
Alessia walks over to me and sits on the edge of the tub, dipping her feet in the water. I feel like an animal backed into a corner; that’s how terrified she has me right now. I pull my legs closer to my chest, which only draws her attention to my body. I suppress the urge to shriek like a teenage girl.
Most men don’t mind being looked at. Me, however? I do. I value the things my mother gave me, even beyond the materialistic things.
