Chapter 3
Three
Oryx
Anyone bold enough to say my brother leaves much to be desired is worthy of my time, so if the human servant wants to see the library, I will indulge her. I might have offered to show her around regardless, just to get another look at her.
She’s bold—much bolder than she has any right to be—and I have a feeling I only got a glimpse of the sassy attitude she’s hiding beneath her curated mask.
That piques my curiosity further, making it itch under my skin.
I haven’t been able to get her or our conversation out of my head since yesterday.
Are all human females so fiery and strong-willed? Or is she simply a rebel? Whatever the reason, her nature calls to me, which makes sense. I hardly fit the mold of a prince.
That’s the one thing I can say for my brother, aside from him being an asshole; he was made to be king.
Me? I was made for comic relief and tension diffusion. For bending the rules and making stuffy, royal life a little more enjoyable.
And apparently showing a human woman around the castle.
As I pace the hall in front of the kitchen doors, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll show up.
Hopefully I didn’t intimidate her yesterday, but it’s possible I scared her off.
I shouldn’t have been so straightforward, but my desire to talk to her consumed all my other thoughts.
I’ve only seen a few humans in my life, and I’ve never spoken to one alone.
If she declines my invitation, it will be a shame. I’ll just have to find another way to spend time with her.
Considering I’m a prince, I should be able to do whatever I want, but it’s not that simple.
Especially not where the human servant is concerned.
Not only does she have her duties to keep her occupied, but relations between royals and servants are prohibited.
My sisters would love to torment me if they found out I was spending time with Lizette, even if our meetings were nothing but good intentions and polite conversation.
I chuckle to myself at the if that accompanies the thought, as though my subconscious has already decided that something more is plausible. Ignoring the Ulleh laws that forbid such a relationship, Lizette is small. Frail. I doubt she could even take a male like me without snapping in half.
Though, if Nor is to consummate his marriage with the human princess, it must be possible. Right?
A noise behind me catches my attention, and I whirl to see the kitchen door closing as Lizette slips into the hall.
Her brown hair is braided and twisted into a knot behind her head, her green eyes bright as they meet mine.
Even though I’ve already memorized the details of her face, I take a moment to appreciate her flawless porcelain skin and her rose pink lips.
Lips that, by the looks of them, wouldn’t stretch far enough to wrap around my cock.
Another shame.
Her mouth curls into a tiny smile as color flushes her cheeks, and she approaches slowly. She wrings her hands, seeming much more nervous than yesterday. That makes two of us.
“Good day.” I tip my horns to her, and she bows in response.
“Good day. I apologize for my tardiness, Your Highness. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” She rights herself and meets my gaze, her hands clasped in front of her. “There was a spill, and I was asked to clean it…”
My chest tightens at the honorific—I’ve always hated them. It’s a glaring reminder of our different social classes, when the only thing I want to do is forget them. Just for a little while.
Stupid. It’s a stupid thought, and I know it. I can do whatever I want, but it won’t make me less of a prince. And it won’t make her less of a servant.
Pretending otherwise is only going to get me burned.
I wave away her concerns. If I’d waited five minutes or thirty, my relief at her presence would have been the same. She showed up, that’s the important thing.
“Don’t worry.” I shake my head. “From what I understand, the library will still be there when we get there.”
She giggles softly, but doesn’t move from the spot. I loathe the way she waits for instruction, missing the spunk I saw in her yesterday. Maybe, with any luck and a little time, she’ll let her guard down again.
“Come on.” I tip my horns down the hall. “I’ll show you the way.”
We walk in near-silence to the library, up to the third floor and down the long hall to the East Wing. We pass a few guards on the way, but I keep my snout up, eyes forward despite my uneasiness.
I remind myself a dozen times that nothing about Lizette following me is so out of the ordinary that it will raise alarms, but it isn’t until we’re alone in the library that the knot of tension in my chest relaxes.
I step aside to let her into the modest room and watch her eyes light up as they scan the countless rows of books.
Every wall of the bed-chamber sized library is stacked floor to ceiling with books.
A curtained window sits across from us, overlooking the garden when the fabric is drawn back.
There are two high-backed leather chairs in the middle of the room with a table situated between them.
It’s small, modest, at least by my standards.
“Wow,” Lizette whispers under her breath, and I fight a grin. She’s clearly impressed, and while it’s a silly thing to fuel my pride, my chest puffs up. “This is so much bigger than the one back home!”
If she thinks the library is big, just wait until she sees my—
She pins me with her gaze, and my mind goes blank.
“Do you have any favorite books?” she asks.
It's hard to focus when she's staring at me like that; my mind turns into a mess of mush. I know my answer will disappoint her—I’ve never been much of a scholar.
I shake my head, bracing myself for her look of disapproval. “I spend my time doing other things.”
Instead of the frown I expect, a sweet smile curls her lips before she makes her way over to a shelf. She runs her delicate fingers down the spines of various books, admiring each and every one.
“What does a prince fill his time with?” she asks, slowly walking toward the opposite wall. I find myself following her without thinking, before quickly diverting and taking a seat in one of the chairs.
Keeping space between us is probably for the best. I don’t want her to think I’m a creep.
“I prefer things that get me out of the castle,” I explain. “Hunting, hiking—there’s a nice trail behind the castle that goes deep into the woods.”
She hesitates, so briefly that I almost miss it, before continuing to follow the wall of shelves. “I’ve never been on a hike.”
“Really?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. “It’s where I go to clear my head. Reset my thoughts. When life in the castle gets boring or tense, I always head for the woods.”
“It sounds nice,” she admits, but there's something wrong with her tone.
“Do you have woods where you come from?”
She shakes her head. “There aren't many trees in our kingdom, mainly grasslands. But I haven't spent much time outside of a castle.”
I open my mouth to ask why, but realization hits me a moment later. She has her duties, her job, her princess to tend to. She probably never had the time, much less the ability, to come and go freely as a servant.
The thought sours my gut, and my privilege stares me in the face. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come. What is there to say?
“It's alright,” she says softly, like she's reading my mind. “I accepted my reality a long time ago. There are many things I can’t do that I would like to; it's just a part of my position.”
I don't like her answer, even though it's the reality of every servant in our castle. It's like a veil has been pulled back, and I'm seeing clearly for the first time. While our servants are well taken care of, it’s hardly a life of luxury. Definitely not one of freedom.
“What kind of things would you like to do?” I ask.
“Hike.” She grins wide and moves to sit across from me in the other chair. “Have a day off, swim.”
“Swim?” My brows furrow and she nods.
She nods. “Sometimes, when I’m in the bath, I close my eyes and pretend it’s a lake. Silly, I know.”
“Not silly at all,” I assure her, my mind already scheming.
There are at least three lakes in Ulleh adequate for swimming, and a river not far from the trail I hike in the forest. I’m already imagining splashing in the water, wondering how the hell I can make that happen without getting either of us in trouble, when her voice cuts off my thoughts again.
“What's something you've always wanted to do but haven't?”
I lean back in the chair, scratching the skin between my horns.
“I've wanted to punch Nor in the mouth a couple of times,” I muse, still wracking my brain. Nothing else comes to mind initially. “Haven't done that yet.”
Lizette rolls her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking, and I chuckle. There's a hint of the fire I saw yesterday, hovering just beneath her mask of well-practiced etiquette.
“I think I'd like to cook,” I say slowly, “but there's no sense in learning when you have an entire staff at your disposal.”
Her brows arch. “Cooking?”
I pat my stomach. “The way to my heart is food, so learning to make that which I love… on second thought, it's probably better that I can’t.”
She laughs, the sounds floating like music through the room, and it hits me how much I'm enjoying myself. Here, locked away in the solace of the library with Lizette, nothing else matters. Our kingdoms, our schedules, our titles, none of it.
“I’d say I could teach you but…” She doesn't have to finish her sentence. Anything like that is probably out of the question, unless we want to draw attention to ourselves. Which I don’t. “Maybe I could write down some recipes for you. What's your favorite thing to eat?”
I don't have to think. “Years ago, before our head chef retired, she used to make this amazing blueberry pie.” I moan at the thought. “Buttery, flaky, a little tangy…” My mouth waters. “Best thing I ever had.”
Lizette nods along while I ramble, never once acting bored. I can't tell if she enjoys listening to me, or if she's just practiced her faux-intrigue for so many years that she's mastered it.
“Enough about me,” I say abruptly, tired of hearing my own voice. What I want is to hear hers, to listen to any and everything she’s willing to tell me.
The minutes dragged by impossibly long while I stood waiting for her outside the kitchen, but here in the library they fly by. When I check the time, I realize we've been sitting here for over an hour.
Damn it.
As much as I'd like to be holed up in here with her for the rest of the day, I know we'll each have people looking for us.
“It’s getting late,” she says when she notices me staring at the clock on the wall.
“It is,” I agree.
Silence envelopes us, and I drum my fingers on the arm of the chair anxiously. I’m not ready to leave, especially not knowing when I’ll get the chance to speak to her again. But could I really suggest we do this again? Would she even want to?
She stands, and I join her, grappling with my indecision. Finally, I say the thing burning up my throat.
“If you’d like,” I start, hesitant to finish the thought, “I could join you again sometime. Here, I mean. In the library.”
I sound like a fucking moron.
“Oh… I-I would hate to take up any more of your time than I already have.” She drops her gaze to the patch of rug between us.
“Am I not allowed to spend my time where I please?” I cock an eyebrow at her, and her eyes shoot back up to mine.
“No, of course you are. I-I didn’t mean… I’m sorry…”
I shake my head and clear my throat. “Let me rephrase. Would you like me to accompany you again?”
Her lips part, and the urge to brush my thumb across her plush bottom one ignites a fire in my chest. A stupid idea, one that will get us both in trouble, but I can’t deny the desire.
“Yes,” she finally says, her voice a little tight. “Anytime you want.”
Tension thick enough to slice fills the room as I choose my next words carefully. “And if I want to spend every day with you in the library?”
Silence.
My heart slams against my ribs, threatening to break out of its bony cage, as I wait for her reply. Time drags by, seconds stretching into hours.
Finally, the corner of her mouth lifts into a mischievous smirk that has heat sinking straight to my cock. “If it pleases Your Highness, then I guess I’ll allow it.”
Allow it.
I grunt a laugh. That’s another bit of her mask chipped away, and I find myself craving to discover what’s underneath. She's fiery and funny, and fuck if I'm not already looking forward to seeing her again.
“Tomorrow?” I ask, my hopes creeping dangerously high.
If she says no, I'll try not to be disappointed. I’m sure I can find something else to do, even though nothing else sounds remotely entertaining.
Thankfully, she nods. “Tomorrow.”