Chapter 5
five
. . .
Lirien
We don't take the direct route back to the palace. I realize this when Dain leads us away from the main thoroughfare, down winding side streets that grow narrower with each turn. The sky hasn't yet begun to lighten—we have time before dawn—but my curiosity outweighs my promised compliance. "Where are we going?" I ask, my voice still raspy from that kiss. The kiss I can't stop replaying in my mind, the kiss that ignited something dangerous and wonderful inside me.
"Somewhere safe." Dain doesn't look back, his broad shoulders tense beneath the black fabric of his shirt. "We need to make sure you weren't recognized before returning you to the palace."
I want to argue that I was careful, that no one would connect a plainly dressed young woman to the crown princess. But the words die on my lips as he stops before a nondescript door set into a stone building, produces a key from somewhere on his person, and unlocks it with practiced ease.
"What is this place?" I ask as he ushers me inside, checking the street before closing the door behind us.
"Safehouse." He moves around the small space, lighting candles that reveal a spartan but clean interior. "Royal intelligence maintains several throughout the city."
I take in the single room with its narrow bed, small table with two chairs, a fireplace with cooking implements, and a privacy screen that presumably hides a washing area. "You've been here before."
It's not a question, but he answers anyway. "Yes."
"Why?" I can't help the note of jealousy that creeps into my voice—an emotion I have no right to feel, yet cannot suppress.
Dain pauses in his methodical inspection of the space, shooting me a look that's part exasperation, part something darker. "For work, Princess. I don't bring women here for trysts, if that's what you're asking."
Heat floods my cheeks, but I lift my chin. "I wasn't."
"You were." He moves to the fireplace, stoking the banked embers into a small flame. "There's water in the pitcher if you want to wash."
The mundane suggestion feels surreal after the intensity of what passed between us in that alley. My lips still tingle from the pressure of his, my body still hums with an awareness I've never experienced before. And he's offering me water to wash, as if nothing has changed, as if he didn't just shatter every boundary between us with that kiss.
I remain standing near the door, watching him move with efficient grace around the small space. Without his guard's uniform, in these simple clothes, he looks different—more human, less the untouchable sentinel. The scar along his jaw catches the firelight, drawing my eye. I remember tracing it with my finger, the roughness of it beneath my touch, the way he shuddered before claiming my mouth.
"Why did you bring me here instead of the palace?" I finally ask, needing to break the charged silence.
He straightens from the fire, keeping the width of the room between us. "Dawn is still an hour away. You said you wanted one night of freedom. I'm giving you that."
"After you told me it was a dangerous fantasy," I remind him.
"It is." His eyes meet mine, hard and uncompromising. "But you've earned an hour of quiet before returning to reality."
"How generous of you." I can't keep the sarcasm from my tone. "And it has nothing to do with avoiding the palace guards who might question why you're returning the princess in commoner's clothes before dawn?"
A muscle ticks in his jaw—the telltale sign I've hit a nerve. "That too."
I move away from the door, emboldened by this small admission. "You could lose your position for this. For following me, for not reporting my absence immediately." I take another step toward him. "For kissing me."
"I'm aware of the consequences." His voice remains steady, but his eyes track my movement like a predator.
"Yet you did it anyway." Another step. "Why?"
"You know why."
"I want to hear you say it." I'm pushing deliberately now, testing the limits of his control, curious to see what would happen if it snapped again.
He doesn't back away as I approach, though every line of his body radiates tension. "It doesn't matter. It can't happen again."
"Can't it?" I stop just inches from him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. "Because it felt like something that could happen again. Something that wanted to happen for a long time."
His nostrils flare slightly, the only visible sign of his reaction to my proximity. "What do you think you're doing, Lirien?"
The use of my name without title sends a thrill through me. "Exploring my night of freedom." I tilt my head, studying him. "Unless you're rescinding your generous offer?"
"This isn't a game." His voice drops to a dangerous register.
"Isn't it?" I reach out, my fingers hovering over the scar on his jaw without quite touching it. "The rules seem simple enough. You want me. I want you. But you won't allow yourself to act on it because of duty, position, propriety."
"Those aren't trivial concerns." He catches my wrist before I can touch him, his grip firm but not painful. "You are the crown princess. In a few months, you'll be betrothed to strengthen the kingdom's alliances. That is your duty."
"And if I don't want that duty?" I challenge, not pulling away from his hold.
"We don't always get what we want." His thumb moves almost imperceptibly against my pulse point, betraying the restraint he's exercising.
"You got what you wanted in that alley." I lean closer, emboldened by the flicker of desire I see in his eyes. "You wanted to kiss me, and you did."
"A moment of weakness." His jaw tightens. "It won't happen again."
"Won't it?" I deliberately lick my lips, watching his gaze drop to track the movement. "Because I think it could happen right now, if I wanted it to."
"You overestimate your influence, Princess." But he doesn't release my wrist, doesn't step away.
"Do I?" I use my free hand to push a strand of hair behind my ear, a deliberately innocent gesture that draws his attention to my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breast beneath the simple shirt. "Then prove it. Let me go and step away."
For a long moment, he doesn't move. Then, with what seems like physical pain, he releases my wrist and takes one step back.
"Satisfied?" he growls.
"Not particularly." I rub my wrist, though he didn't hurt me. "What are you so afraid of, Dain? That you'll like it too much? That I will?"
"I'm afraid of ruining you." The blunt admission hangs in the air between us. "I'm afraid of being the man who took advantage of his position to seduce the woman he's sworn to protect."
"Seduce me?" I laugh, the sound brittle even to my own ears. "Is that what you think this is? You following me like a shadow for years, never speaking more than necessary, keeping me at arm's length while watching my every move with those eyes that see too much?"
"I was doing my job."
"Your job doesn't require you to look at me the way you do when you think I don't notice." I step forward, erasing the distance he created. "Like you're starving and I'm a feast you can't touch."
His breathing changes, becoming shallower. "Lirien?—"
"Say it." I place my palm flat against his chest, feeling the thunderous beat of his heart. "Tell me why you kissed me. Tell me why you brought me here instead of the palace. Tell me the truth, just once."
The struggle plays out across his face—duty warring with desire, propriety with need. When he speaks, his voice is rough with suppressed emotion.
"Because I've wanted you since you were eighteen and I realized you were no longer a child to be protected, but a woman who haunted my dreams." The confession tears from him like it causes physical pain. "Because every day spent at your side, watching men court you while I stand guard, is its own special kind of hell. Because when I saw that sailor touch you, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands for daring to put his fingers where mine can never be."
The raw honesty of his words steals my breath. This is Dain Vorex—the stoic, silent captain who has shadowed me for years—laying his soul bare with a vulnerability I never imagined him capable of.
"Why can't they be?" I whisper, my hand still pressed to his chest. "Why can't you touch me, if I want you to?"
"You know why."
"Pretend, just for tonight, that those reasons don't exist." My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. "Pretend we're just a man and a woman in this room, with no titles, no duties, no future arranged by others."
"I can't pretend that." His hand covers mine, not pulling it away but holding it against him. "Because when dawn comes, you will still be the princess, and I will still be the guard who overstepped."
"And if I order you to kiss me again?" I tilt my chin up, a challenge in my eyes. "Would you disobey a direct command from your future queen?"
Something dangerous flares in his gaze. "Don't."
"Don't what? Don't want this? Don't admit it? Don't use the only power I have to get something I actually desire for once in my life?"
His free hand comes up to cup my face, the touch surprisingly gentle for a man capable of such violence. "You have no idea what you're asking for."
"Then show me." I turn my face into his palm, my lips brushing his callused skin. "Show me what I'm asking for."
A tremor runs through him. I can feel it where our bodies connect, can see it in the tension of his shoulders. For a moment, I think he'll give in—that he'll claim my mouth again, that he'll let whatever is building between us consume us both.
Instead, he drops hisInstead, he drops his hand and steps back, putting the table between us like a shield.
"No." The word is quiet but firm. "Not like this. Not with you testing boundaries you don't understand, not with dawn approaching and reality waiting."
Disappointment crashes over me, followed quickly by anger. "So it's fine for you to kiss me in an alley when you lose control, but not here, not when I'm asking for it?"
"Yes." His honesty disarms me. "Because in that alley, I was weak. Here, I'm choosing to be strong. For both of us."
"I don't need your protection from this." I gesture between us, frustration making my voice rise. "I know what I want."
"Do you?" He leans forward, hands braced on the table. "You want the thrill of rebellion, Princess. You want to taste freedom in all its forms. I'm just convenient—the forbidden guard, the older man, the excitement of crossing lines you've never crossed before."
His dismissal stings, especially because part of me fears he might be right. Is that all this is? The culmination of a night of breaking rules, of testing limits?
No. It's more than that. It has to be.
"You're wrong." I move to the table, mirroring his posture. "I wanted you before tonight. I've wanted you for years, watching you watch me, wondering what you were thinking behind that stone face, wondering what it would take to make you see me as a woman, not a duty."
Something shifts in his expression—surprise, perhaps even hope, quickly masked.
"It doesn't matter what either of us wants." He straightens. "Dawn is coming. We need to prepare you for return."
"So that's it?" I don't try to hide my bitterness. "We go back to princess and guard, pretending nothing happened, nothing changed?"
"Everything changed." He moves to a small chest against the wall, opening it to reveal clothing—a simple dress, modest but clearly of better quality than what I'm wearing. "But we can't change who we are."
I watch him remove the dress, laying it carefully on the bed. "Where did that come from?"
"I keep emergency supplies here. Including appropriate clothing for various scenarios."
"You planned for having to disguise me as a respectable woman instead of a commoner?" I'm oddly touched by his foresight.
"I plan for everything." He gestures to the privacy screen. "Change. I'll wait outside."
He moves toward the door, but I step into his path. "And if I don't want you to leave?"
Weariness settles over his features. "Then you're still testing boundaries, and I'm still saying no."
We stand at an impasse, neither willing to yield. Finally, I sigh and take the dress. "Fine. But this conversation isn't over, Dain."
"It never began." He opens the door. "You have ten minutes."
After he leaves, I change slowly, my mind racing. The dress fits well enough—simpler than my court attire but still suitable for a merchant's daughter or minor noble. He's thought of everything, down to soft slippers to replace my boots.
I'm fighting with the laces at the back when he returns, knocking once before entering. He takes in my struggle without comment, then moves behind me.
"Allow me." His fingers brush my skin as he works the laces, each touch sending shivers down my spine.
"You seem practiced at this," I observe, unable to resist the jab.
His hands pause momentarily. "I told you, I don't bring women here."
"But you've undressed women before." It's not a question.
"I'm thirty-eight years old, Lirien. Yes, there have been women. None that mattered." He finishes the laces with a decisive tug. "None that were you."
The simple statement knocks the breath from my lungs. I turn to face him, finding his expression more open than I've ever seen it.
"Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because dawn is coming." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering longer than necessary. "Because after today, we return to our roles, and I need you to understand why."
"I don't want to return to that." I catch his hand before he can pull away. "I don't want to marry some foreign prince I've never met. I don't want to pretend this night never happened."
"What we want rarely matters in the grand scheme." His voice is gentle, almost tender. "You have a duty to your kingdom, as do I."
"And if I refuse that duty?" I search his face, looking for some sign that he would support such rebellion.
"Then you would not be the woman I—" He stops, jaw clenching.
"The woman you what?" I press, heart hammering.
"The woman I have served faithfully for seven years." He withdraws his hand from mine. "It's time to go, Your Highness."
The return to formality feels like a slap. I step back, wrapping dignity around me like armor. "Of course, Captain Vorex. Heaven forbid we keep duty waiting."
If my words hurt him, he doesn't show it. He simply opens the door, checks the street, and gestures for me to precede him.
As we make our way back toward the palace, taking a more direct route now, I can't help but feel that something precious is slipping away with each step. For a few hours, I glimpsed a different life—one where I wasn't just the crown princess, where Dain wasn't just my guard. One where we could act on the current that runs between us without fear of consequences.
But that life exists only in the space between midnight and dawn, in safehouses and shadowed alleys. With the rising sun comes reality, duty, the weight of a crown I never asked to bear.
Still, I can't bring myself to regret this night—not the escape, not the city, not the kiss, not even the rejection. Because now I know what freedom tastes like. I know what desire feels like.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that I can never go back to being the princess who didn't.