by Leigh Walker
“Then for argument’s sake, let’s forget about what Tamara can do for you. Let’s forget about any ‘edge’ that any of the finalists can give you. But consider this. All things being equal, I am still a poor choice. My brother is a confirmed rebel. He’s a prisoner here. My father is a rebel, and he’s still at large. My family is a liability, Dallas. I don’t want that to be true. I don’t want this to be impossible. I never would have come here if I’d known, if I’d even thought…”
He stood over me. “If you’d thought what?”
“That I would feel this way about you. That things would have gotten to this point.”
He tucked a hair behind my ear. “Please don’t ever say that again.”
“Which thing?”
“That you would never have come here. Because then I never would have met you, and that’s something I can’t bear to think about.” He tapped me under the chin, raising my gaze to meet his. “I don’t care about any of it—your family, my family, the rebels, the crown.”
“But you have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything other than exactly what I bloody well want. We can leave, Gwyneth. We can leave all of this behind and go find some happy little bubble where no one will care who we are or what we do. I would go with you now, if you say the word.”
My heart twisted. “But we can’t.”
“We’re adults—yes we can.”
I shook my head. “I’m barely an adult, and my mother and younger siblings need me. I can’t leave them behind. And you can’t run away from your obligations. The settlements need you.”
The more I’d gotten to know Dallas—his goodness, strength, and kindness—the more I believed this to be true. He would be the one to save the settlements, to restore them to their former peace and prosperity. He’d been kept in the dark about our nation’s condition, but through the course of the competition, he’d learned more about the true state of affairs of most of our people. He wanted to make changes, to help people, to make the settlements better.
“I would love nothing more than to find a happy bubble for us to call our own, but I’m afraid my conscience wouldn’t allow it,” I said. “I can’t be so selfish. You’re too good. I can’t keep you all to myself—the world needs you.”
He kissed my forehead. “And I need you.” My eyes filled with tears, and he grimaced. “Here we go again.”
“Please hear me out.” I gripped his hands. “I cannot have it on my conscience to undo you. When it comes out that my father and brother are rebels—and eventually, it will come out—it will divide the settlements. People will wonder whether they can trust me or if you have a traitor in your own court, in your own bed. What kind of princess would that make me? How unsteady would your position be then?”
I hadn’t thought about all of this before, but now the enormity of the problem became only too clear. “Not to mention the fact that your parents will never accept me. Would they even accept a child, if we were to have one?” I released him and started pacing, muttering to myself while issues I hadn’t even foreseen came crashing down around me.
Dallas watched me, frowning, until I noticed and stopped pacing. “What is it?”
“Come here.”
I went to him, my brow still furrowed. He pulled me close, running his hands over my face, smoothing it, trying to soothe me. “You can pace and fret and mutter all you want. But we will be successful, and this will be okay.”
“How can you say that? How do you know?”
He leaned over me, brushing his lips against mine. “Because I know. And because I am the prince, and I say so. Now kiss me, Gwyneth. If we have nothing else—if everything is as dire as you predict—we at least have this moment together. I will not waste it.”
He crushed his lips against mine, and I reached up, sinking my hands into his thick hair. He deepened the kiss, and I moaned. Every kiss, every touch, every second I let myself love him, I put us both at risk.
I knew this. And I knew very, very well that I might not be able to have him. That I might walk away with nothing, and it could happen soon.
But I still arched my back, getting as close as I possibly could, and kissed him as if my life depended on it. Caution, or perhaps myself, be damned.
Chapter 7
Realizations
Hearing a knock on the door, we jumped apart. Tariq stuck his head into the room, and Dallas muttered some colorful curse words I’d never heard before. He clenched his fists and glared at the royal emissary. “What?”
Tariq bowed, and when he straightened, he managed to look apologetic. “Your Highness. Miss West. You two are up early.”
“Yes, Tariq, we are. And we were quite involved with important business before you bloody came in here!”
“My apologies, but I have time-sensitive news.” The royal emissary absently rubbed his ear, perhaps remembering how Dallas had pinched it some weeks ago.
Dallas looked close to grabbing it again. “Go on.”
“I’ve just gotten word that your next home visit will be to Settlement Four.”
Oh dear. That meant all sorts of time for us alone together. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Ah. Thank you, Tariq.” Dallas suddenly looked infinitely less pissed.
Tariq nodded. “Your Highness, the king would like to see you for another meeting with the advisory board before you depart. Miss West, you should assemble your maids and start packing.”
I curtsied. “Yes, Your Royal Emissary. Thank you.” But I didn’t want to thank him. I wanted to get my head on straight and put some distance between the prince and myself.
He might be forced to choose someone else. And maybe it’s for the best.
But being so close to him, kissing him, having him protect me from my brother and showing him mercy—every part of me longed to go to Dallas, to beg him to choose me, to let me stay with him forever. The alternative was unbearable. And yet so very many obstacles stood in our way.
The depth of my feelings for him overwhelmed me, as if I were swimming out into the middle of the ocean; I was in dangerously over my head. I needed to calm myself and get grounded lest I be swallowed by the undertow and pulled out to sea forever, losing myself and destroying Dallas’s chance to become a great leader in the process.
But instead of being able to catch my breath, I was going home with him. Dallas’s gaze flicked to me, a small smile on his lips. He didn’t look sorry about it in the least. “I’ll see you shortly, Gwyneth.”
I curtsied again. “Yes, Your Highness.” Did I imagine it, or did he look awfully excited?
I cleared my throat and turned back to Tariq. “Will we be staying with my family?”
Tariq shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. The production team decided that since you’ve been there before, a change of scenery would be better for ratings. But you will dine with your family this evening.”
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to seeing them. But…where will we be staying in Four?” I felt my cheeks heat as I tried and failed to keep my mind from imagining all manner of possibilities.
Tariq smiled at me with feigned patience. “We will brief you before you leave, Miss West. Your maids have been given instructions about what to pack.”
I nodded at him. Tariq motioned to the prince, asking him about something administrative, and I used it as my chance to escape. I hustled down the hall, then thinking better of it, turned and went toward Eve’s chambers. I hadn’t seen her in a few days, and we needed to talk. Eve always had a way of putting things into perspective.
The sentinels at the entrance to her chamber nodded and opened the doors. I found my friend in the middle of her room, upside down in a headstand.
“What on earth are you doing?” I cried.
“Balance training.” She was perfectly still, every muscle actively holding her in place. “It’ll make me a better fighter.”
I flopped into a nearby chair. “Again, I don’t know why you’re working so hard. You�
�re bloody strong as it is.”
Eve sighed, slowly lowering her legs to the ground. She pulled herself right side up, her blond curls bouncing. “Any fool can be strong. I want to be good.”
“You are good. You’re magnificent, Eve.”
She plopped down in the chair across from me, grinning. “Tell me what’s wrong. I know you’re not here to gush about my magnificence.”
“I have to get to my room and pack, but I wanted to see you first.” I leaned back in the chair. “Dallas took me to see my brother this morning. It did not go well.”
Eve’s face softened, even as her unusual aqua eyes burned with intensity. “I heard he’s having a hard time. What happened?”
“More of the same. He hates me, he hates Dallas, he hates vampires. He’s stopped eating. He’s lost so much weight he’s barely more than a skeleton, but he won’t let me help him. He told me he never wants to see me again.”
“He doesn’t mean it,” Eve said. “He’s blinded by his own hate. It’s distorted his reasoning.”
“His hate is very sincere. I don’t detect anything in him that shows me he could ever change his mind.”
Eve blew out a deep breath. “With time, that could change. Once he sees what we’re really like.”
“I don’t know. He said that vampires are the devil, and he meant it.”
“Maybe I could try to talk to him. You know, a disinterested third party?” She sounded hopeful.
“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think he’d be anything but horrible. You don’t deserve that.”
Eve shrugged. “I’m not afraid of him. Remember how I used to speak of vampires? Maybe I can find some common ground with him. Think about it?”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “You always make me feel better.”
“So tell me what else is bothering you and whether it has anything to do with the fact that you look like you’ve recently been snogged within an inch of your life.”
I sighed. “I was just with Dallas.”
“Well, I would hope so.” Eve chuckled.
“I think I have to break it off with him.”
She groaned. “He’ll lock you in the dungeons next to Balkyn if you try to leave.”
“I’m not trying to leave. But speaking of snogging, he went home with Tamara yesterday, and they got way too close for comfort.”
“We’ve talked about this, Gwyn. You know he has to sample the merchandise, as they say. They’ve got to keep the audience guessing—unlike the rest of us, who know he only has eyes for you. It makes the contest a bit boring, actually, having him moon about you all the time.” She yawned. “So you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Fine.” I straightened my spine. “Here’s the real reason I’m thinking this way. I’m worried that I’m going to bring harm to him, and that’s the last thing I want.”
“Tell me more.”
“I’m bad for him. My brother hates vampires, my father is a rebel, and both of them would stake Dallas and his whole family if they had the chance.”
“He’s not dating your father or your brother. He’s in a relationship with you.”
I hopped up and started pacing. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it? If I were to become the princess and the news broke about my family, it would put Dallas in a horrible position. What I’m saying is, I have to protect him. From me.”
Eve shook her head. “He’s pretty capable of taking care of himself. And he’s an adult. You need to respect him to make his own choices.”
“But feelings aren’t choices.” I paced some more.
“Of course they are. Your brain’s not the only organ that gets to make decisions, you know.”
“Are you suggesting that any organ should be able to choose?” I scoffed. “A pancreas? A kidney? An appendix?”
Eve frowned. “I’ve no idea what any of those squishy things would want. But your heart wants things. And it’s no less important than your brain, if you ask me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know about that.”
“Sure you do. Why does your heart care for me? Why does it care for the prince? Why does it break for your brother, even when he’s insanely cruel to you? Your heart knows things, Gwyn. To ignore it is to ignore the very real gift that you’ve been given—by God, the fates, your maker. Your heart’s what makes you you. Who you love is who you are.”
“This whole immortality thing really has made you philosophical.”
Eve jutted her chin. “I told you so.”
I turned on my heel. “If we’re so intent on listening to my feelings, I can tell you this. I feel strongly that I need to protect the prince. If I brought him harm, it would undo me.”
“More than giving him away to someone else?”
“I have to be a grown-up about this. It’s not a game.” My heart squeezed. “You’ve told me from the beginning to remember that the contest is political. You were right. Dallas agreed to participate in the Pageant for a reason—the betterment of the settlements, national unity, moving forward into a new era in which the royals are embraced as the true leaders of our country. If the princess is the daughter of a rebel, how does that work? It only highlights our divide. It doesn’t bring our nation together. It tears us further apart.”
Eve shook her head, her curls bouncing. “If the prince chooses you, he shows the country that he accepts us as he finds us—and loves us, anyway. I don’t see it the way you do. If the prince is brave enough to love a rebel’s daughter, it shows how strong he is. How certain he is not only of his commitment to his new bride but also to the history of our nation.”
I kept pacing. “The king does not approve of me, Eve. He never will.”
“If Dallas doesn’t care, why should you?”
“Because I’m the one putting him into that terrible position—at odds with his own family.” I wrung my hands. “What if the king decides to turn the crown over to his younger brother instead, as a punishment?”
“It wouldn’t be the end of the world. I’m sure the prince himself would tell you that.”
“But I think it would be the end of the world. Dallas should be the one to rule. You know him. You know how talented and kind he is, how much he truly cares for the people in our country. No one is better suited to unite us.”
Eve smiled. “It sounds as if you trust his judgment.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then let him choose the winner, and have faith that everything will work out in the end.”
“Oh, Eve, I wish I could.” I sighed. “I have to go.”
She winked at me. “Have fun.”
But fun wasn’t on my mind as I hustled to my chambers; fear was. Fear that the king would tear us apart. Fear that he wouldn’t and that I was the wrong choice for Dallas.
I made a promise to myself. I would enjoy this trip—I’d soak up every second, basking in my proximity to the prince. But I would remember that all good things must come to an end. And in that end, if I believed I would hurt Dallas more than I could help him, I’d let him go.
In that moment, I realized how very much I loved him.
Chapter 8
A Brave Face
I was dressed and ready to go. Bria had chosen a long, dark-green gown and a matching coat. Emerald earrings twinkled at my ears. But although my dress and jewels were lovely, unease gnawed at me. My maids didn’t have details about what my visit would entail. I wrinkled my nose as I watched them, my nerves thrumming. “Are you excited to see your family?” Bettina asked, sensing my unease.
“I can’t wait.” My face relaxed into a smile. “I miss them so much.”
“I’m sure they’re thrilled, too.” Evangeline grinned as she finished with my luggage. “I hope you have a lovely trip.”
“I hope you show that Tamara who the real front-runner is.” Bria put her hands on her hips. “She’s been bragging nonstop since she got back. She has her maids convinced that she’s getting a proposal. Well, I told them a thing or tw
o—”
“Bria,” Evangeline interrupted gently, “let’s not make Miss West nervous.”
Bria harrumphed. “Fine.” She started smoothing my hair with renewed vigor.
I heard a knock on the door. “The car is ready for Miss West,” the sentinel announced.
“Have a wonderful time, miss.” Evangeline surprised me with a hug.
The twins followed suit, squeezing me tightly. “We’re rooting for you,” Bettina said.
Bria held me close and whispered in my ear. “Please crush Tamara’s bragging black soul for me.”
I giggled as she released me. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The sentinels brought my bags, and we met Dallas, Mira Kinney, and the film crew on the front lawn. Dallas smiled at me as Mira smoothed her outfit, getting ready for filming. This morning the television host wore a shiny, fitted black pantsuit and sky-high black patent-leather heels. She smiled, almost blinding me with her white teeth, as I joined them. “Miss West. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you, Mira. It’s nice to see you, too.”
She leaned toward me and adjusted the collar of my coat. “I hope this visit is a rousing success, even better than Miss Layne’s. Knock ’em dead.”
“Th-thank you.” I swallowed hard, willing myself to be brave.
Mira organized the film crew while Dallas clasped my hand and beamed at me, resplendent in his ceremonial uniform. “Hello again.”
I cleared my throat primly. “Your Highness.”
His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and he squeezed my hand. “I am looking forward to our visit. I’ll be very happy to see your family again, under better circumstances.”
Last time we’d traveled to Settlement 4, my sister had been ill with a high fever. Dallas had saved her life by sending a top-notch pediatrician and the medicine Winnie needed to get better.
I smiled at him. “Me, too.”
“I am especially looking forward to having you all to myself.”
I coughed, my cheeks heating furiously. “Yes. Quite.”