Chapter 38:
Haroun
I observe the back of the princess as she watches Nikolai and Valendor compete over something trivial.
My attention is definitely on the competition.
Absolutely.
One hundred percent.
Not on the way her dress has inched up, revealing more of her soft skin pressed against mine.
Not on the warmth of her body seeping through my clothes.
Not on the fact that my entire nervous system has decided to reroute all blood flow to a single, very inconvenient location.
I shift subtly.
Then again.
The front of my trousers tightens further.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
I cross my legs. Uncross them. Cross them again.
Nothing helps.
The princess leans forward to get a better view of Nikolai and Valendor's thumb-wrestling death match. Her weight shifts against me. Her backside presses—
Goddess save me.
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste copper.
The princess is speaking now. Laughing. Animated.
I hear none of it.
Every tiny adjustment she makes sends fresh waves of torture through my body. Her scent—something floral, something her—wraps around my brain like a fog.
I try to think about sword forms.
Sword forms. Sharp objects. Cold steel.
Nothing.
I try to think about taxes.
Taxes. Boring. Dull. Gray.
Nothing.
I try to think about the Emperor's angry face.
His veiny forehead. His purple veins. His—NOPE. Not helping. Different kind of uncomfortable.
She leans forward to grab a pastry from the table.
She nearly slips.
I grab her waist to steady her.
The contact sends a jolt through me like I've been struck by one of Nikolai's lightning bolts.
Direct hit.
I am going to die.
"Haroun, tell us about the competition."
Nikolai's voice cuts through my haze.
I look up.
He's staring directly at me.
His violet eyes glint with the unmistakable sparkle of I know exactly what's happening and I am going to enjoy every second of your suffering.
That bastard.
"What competition?" The princess twists in my arms to look at me.
Her beautiful, innocent, completely oblivious face is inches from mine.
Her proximity is intoxicating.
Also lethal.
If she looks down—if she looks down—I will have to move to a different continent.
"Uh. There's a swordsmanship competition soon." My voice cracks like a fourteen-year-old boy's. "I'm going to participate."
"That's great!" Her enthusiasm bounces through her entire body.
Please stop bouncing.
"It's nothing," I mumble, trying to subtly angle my hips away from her.
She doesn't notice.
Thank the Goddess, she doesn't notice.
She looks at me with those piercing gray eyes.
I can feel my face heating up like a furnace. The room fades away. Her smile is radiant.
Also my pants are trying to betray me to the crown.
"Haroun, you should be proud." Her hand rests gently on my arm. "We all believe in you."
Her words fill me with warmth.
Certain other things also fill with warmth.
I nod, unable to form a coherent response.
My voice has relocated to a different dimension.
Nikolai stands up.
"I have to leave, my Princess. Something for the magic tower."
He grabs Valendor by the arm and pulls him up as well.
Yes. Leave. Both of you. Flee. Abandon ship. I need emergency evacuation.
Valendor shoots me a knowing glance as he passes.
He knows too.
Everyone knows.
I am going to dig a hole and live in it.
"So soon?" The princess's voice carries a hint of sadness.
Nikolai leans in and places his face in her palm.
I close my eyes.
If I can't see them, they can't see me. That's how it works. Basic camouflage.
They leave.
The door clicks shut.
The room feels emptier.
Also safer.
The princess turns back to me, her smile returning.
She snuggles closer into my arms.
No. Bad princess. Stop snuggling. My body is not a safe place right now.
But she doesn't stop snuggling.
Of course she doesn't.
She has no idea that her favorite seat is currently sitting on top of a very serious internal emergency.
"Swordsmanship competition, huh?" She murmurs softly against my neck.
I wrap my arms more tightly around her—which is either the smartest or stupidest decision I've ever made.
" Yeah ." My voice sounds like gravel. "Think I can win?"
"I don't think I can lose," I say.
Cocky? Yes.
True? Also yes.
But mostly I'm trying to project confidence so she doesn't notice that my body has declared war on my dignity.
"Very well." A playful glint lights her voice. "What do you wish for as a prize from me, hmm?"
I can think of several things.
Several. Things.
All of which would make this situation infinitely worse.
"I don't know." I try for nonchalant. Fail spectacularly. "Let me think about it."
"Fine. I'll give you one wish. Within my capacity, I'll grant it."
She says it after a minute.
My brain immediately supplies seventeen very inappropriate suggestions.
I shove them all into a mental box and set the box on fire.
"No take backs." A grin spreads across my face.
"Of course."
She sits up and smiles down at me.
Her weight shifts off my lap.
Air rushes back into my lungs. Blood slowly, slowly, begins to redistribute to where it belongs.
I have been granted a reprieve.
The Goddess has looked upon my suffering and taken pity.
For now.
An hour later, I feel soft, steady breathing against my neck.
She's asleep.
Carefully—very carefully—I lift her from my lap and place her on the bed. I tuck her in. I linger for a moment, watching her serene face.
Then I practically sprint out of the room.
I step into the hallway.
A soft light spills from the drawing room.
I hesitate. Then curiosity wins.
I open the door.
As I step into the hallway, a soft light spills from the drawing room. I hesitate, debating whether to intrude on the quiet space, but curiosity gets the better of me. I walk over and open the door to find Valendor braiding Nikolai's long purple hair into an intricate braid.
The sight of their easy camaraderie sends a pang of jealousy through me.
"Guess who decided to join us." Nikolai glances at me over his glasses. His amethyst eyes twinkle with unholy amusement.
Valendor gives his braid a sharp tug.
"Ow." Nikolai winces.
"Haroun." Valendor acknowledges me with a nod.
I walk in and sit on the sofa opposite them.
Nikolai tilts his head. Studies me. Smiles.
That smile means nothing good.
"The princess is asleep?" he asks.
"Yeah. Just put her to bed."
"Good, good." Nikolai nods sagely. Then his smile widens into something predatory. I should lea—
"Anyway. Who else noticed the princess's lips today? Because I sure did."
Valendor chokes on air.
Full-on. Hand-to-chest. Face-reddening. Eyes-watering choke.
It's a little hilarious.
I chuckle.
"Really, Nikolai?" Valendor's voice is equal parts exasperated and strangled.
Nikolai begins a full-on belly laugh.
"Nikolai…" Valendor warns.
"I wouldn't comment on it if you were a little more moderate ," Nikolai wheezes between laughs.
Valendor's expression darkens.
"If we're counting sins now—"
No.
"—Haroun was hiding a situation , a very hard all evening."
No no no.
"Rather horribly at that."
NO.
"We ALL noticed."
I feel like the air has been knocked out of me as I struggle to process Valendor's words.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I find myself choking on air just like Valendor moments ago. Nikolai, now on the floor in fits of laughter, only adds to my humiliation.
I clear my throat, attempting to regain my composure.
"Perhaps we should focus on more... appropriate topics," I suggest weakly, my cheeks still aflame.
Valendor nods in agreement, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had come.
"Yes, let's keep the conversation civilized," he says, shooting a pointed look at Nikolai, who finally manages to compose himself only to laugh even more.