Roman steps in front of the man, blocking my view of him. His eyes are trained on me. His face looks hard and angry. His nostrils flare, and I take a step back, and then another. He’s wearing a black suit, and I wonder if this man has something against color. He starts moving toward me as I keep backing up. I feel like a squirrel caught in the road, and I don’t know which way to go, so I just keep moving backwards.
“Sweetheart, this is King Roman,” I hear my mother say. I can’t pull my eyes away from him.
Suddenly, my heel catches on the rug under me, and I’m falling backwards. I’m tripping over my own feet as I try to stop myself, but the heels are already winning. Before I can make contact with the ground, Roman catches me. He pulls me into his arms, and my breath gets caught in my throat. His warmth wraps around me, and his rich smell of sage fills my lungs. I’m lost for a moment in a cloud of surprise and lust as he stares down at me, saying nothing.
“Hi,” I finally manage to get past my lips. It comes out high-pitched and awkward, and Tabby snorts. It’s loud enough to shake me out of the moment, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Tabby,” I say, my eyes still locked with Roman’s. “I think our plan is working.”
His eyes narrow at me, yet he still doesn’t speak. The only response he gives is a hard look.
“You can’t say that out loud. He can hear you,” Tabby says admonishingly.
Yeah, this guy does not look like he wants anything to do with me. After another moment, he places me on my feet but doesn’t let me go. I didn’t realize when he pulled my body into his that my feet were dangling off the floor. I’m not sure I want to stand now, because being this close, he’s really towering over me.
“Roman,” I hear a man say, and I guess it’s the man who was with him, because I don’t recognize his voice. “I think she’s good.”
As if realizing I’m still wrapped in his arms, he drops them away but doesn’t step back.
“Tabby?”
“No, I’m Alena.” My heart jumps into my throat. Oh my God, he doesn’t know who I am. Maybe it really is my sister he wants to marry and our names got switched or something. That’s it. It has to be it, because I don’t even think we can physically fit together. My face heats as I think about the two of us trying to make that work.
“I know who you are, my princess.” He looks over at my sister, taking his eyes off me for the first time. “Tabitha.” He says her full name this time. “Can you take my princess to her room to remove these ridiculous shoes before she hurts herself?”
“Hey, she isn’t my servant,” I tell him, finding my voice. Well, some of it.
“I help Alena with stuff all the time.” I frown as Tabby throws in that random comment.
“Then help her remove the layer of what’s painted on her face as well.”
I take a step back from him. He’s a bossy jerk. A handsome bossy jerk, but still.
“Alena. Do as you’re told,” my mother half-whispers, half-scolds.
Roman turns to look at my mother. She looks mad, and I know she’s going to yell at Tabby and me later.
“You don’t give her orders. She will be Queen in one week’s time. She doesn’t take orders.” Roman’s voice is stern and final. He just gave her a command, and it will be followed.
“Except from you, I guess,” I mumble, looking down at the floor and taking another step back.
“All your whispers are too loud. Keep them in your head,” Tabby says from the side of her mouth.
“Alena.”
I draw my eyes back to Roman when I hear him say my name. His mouth is pulled to one side, and I almost think he might be smiling.
“Please.” The one word comes from his lips, and it feels like it’s foreign to him.
I grab Tabby’s hand, thankful that I get to have a moment away from him to get myself together. But somehow I don’t think a moment is going to be long enough.
4
Roman
“Are you not a fan of roasted lamb, Your Highness?”
I turn my attention to Alena’s mother and smile politely. “The meal is delicious, thank you. Lamb is one of my favorites.”
I look down at my plate, realizing I haven’t touched any of my food. I’ve been staring at Alena since she walked into the room, and I’ve been unable to think of anything else. She removed some of the make-up on her face, and her delicate skin is so pink. She also took off those utterly ridiculous shoes and replaced them with flats.
Looking down at Alena’s plate, I realize that she hasn’t touched much of her food either.