Virgin Bride(142)
Al showed up at my room right on time. I followed him down the twisting hallways in silence, feeling nervous.
Al didn’t seem like much of a talker, and I wasn’t in the mood to chat. I felt strangely anxious about this dinner for some reason. I was wearing a decent summer dress, since it was warm in the castle, but I didn’t know what was appropriate to wear to dinner with the king.
And I didn’t know why I cared. I was just seeing Trip, who just happened to be the king. I didn’t want to impress him, and I genuinely didn’t care if I insulted him. I’d already slapped the guy in the face and caused a minor scandal; I doubted I could do worse by wearing something inappropriate.
Still, I found myself caring about how I looked around him, and that told me something about how I felt about him. I wasn’t happy about it, but I couldn’t deny the obvious. I cared about what Trip thought.
Though I shouldn’t have worried much. Trip wasn’t exactly shy about what he thought. The man seemed to basically say whatever came to mind and didn’t care if it was inappropriate or something like that.
Finally, our walk ended in front of a normal-looking door. Al knocked twice and then waited.
After a few seconds, the door opened. Trip smiled out at us. “Thanks for bringing her, Al,” he said.
“Of course, Your Highness,” he answered, and then turned and left.
Trip grinned at me. “Welcome to my corner of the castle.”
He was wearing simple black dress slacks and a white button-down shirt, the top button left open, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like he had been at a blue tie event all day but had just gotten home.
“This is your apartment?”
“Yes,” he said. “Come on in.”
Feeling a jolt of excitement, I stepped through the door and looked around.
It looked like a pretty normal apartment. I had expected a lot of fancy things, more gold and more paintings, but instead it was pretty low-key. It actually looked pretty clean and modern, almost industrial. There was a couch, a television, some chairs, a deck, a table, a kitchen area, several doors, and another hallway leading toward the back.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s nice,” I said.
“You don’t sound like you think it’s nice.”
“It’s simple. I didn’t expect that.”
He laughed, walking into the kitchen area. I followed him. “Well, you get sick of all that crap after a while. When I’m here, I’m home, so I try to leave all that royalty nonsense behind.”
“Have you always lived here?”
“More or less,” he said. “I’ve lived in other places, but when I’m in the castle, these have always been my rooms.”
He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat. He went over to the counter and opened a bottle of wine, pouring two glasses. I accepted one and sipped it as he sat down across from me.
“What’s on the menu?” I asked him. “Or are we just drinking?”
“We can just drink if you like,” he said, “but I planned on having the chef send us something up. I told him to surprise us.”
“Great,” I said. “What if I had some allergies?”
“You don’t,” he said, smiling at me. “I read your file.”
I frowned. “There’s no file.”
“Of course there’s a file. We vetted you to marry me, remember?”
I sighed. “I tried to forget.”
“There it is, you pretending not to like it again.”
“Fortunately, I don’t have to pretend like I don’t want to marry you.”
“Maybe, but you do have to pretend like you don’t want me to press you up against this castle wall and feel that dripping pussy with the tips of my fingers.”
“Do you always talk like this?”
“Only when I want something very badly.” That smile was so wicked, I had to sip my drink and cross my legs. “How would you prefer I spoke, Bryce?”
“I don’t know. How about you tell me about the rebels?”
He paused. I could tell I had surprised him there. “What about them?”
“Well, they want democracy. That can’t be a bad thing.”
He sighed. “Maybe. In your country, democracy is all well and good, but here in Starkland, we’ve had a monarchy for many hundreds of years. People don’t understand a democracy. They’re not ready for it.”
“You can teach them.”
He shrugged. “The rebels are teaching them enough.”
“They’re killing people,” I said.
“Yes,” he agreed, “they are.”
“But so are you. I’ve read some bad things about your royal army.”