Chapter 23 #3
“Thank you,” I responded, not sure what else to say.
“I promised to tell you more often,” he murmured, the words sort of slurring together. “But you still don’t believe me.”
When the hell had he made such a promise?
“It’s fine, we’ll…” He trailed off, concentrating as he got the other sleeve off. “Oh, good show.”
Yes, because taking a jacket off a willing, half-asleep man was such an achievement. Rolling my eyes, I hung the coat on the back of a nearby chair, then knelt to deal with his shoes.
“It’s really late,” Prince James said. “Just stay tonight. You can use your extra closet suit for tomorrow.”
My hands paused on the laces, feeling like someone had taken a chair to the back of my head. No one knew I’d stashed a suit in a nearby unused storage closet since it was closer to the office than my palace rooms.
“It’s not like you snore, anyway,” Prince James continued in the mutter. “You’re a good bedmate.”
We had never, not once, shared a room. Much less a bed. So again, how the hell would he know?
I automatically took his shoes off, my hands in motion even while my brain whirled.
This made no sense. I didn’t think he was lying or being manipulative—he was mostly sleep-talking.
If not for him talking of my extra suit, I’d assume he was dreaming of someone else.
Maybe he was? Dreams often mixed and didn’t make sense.
I rose, intending to lay him down flat and under the covers. The second I stood upright, his hands fumbled until they latched on to my waist, snugging me in. I landed with an oof against his chest, hands awkwardly on his shoulders. Why was he hugging me?!
His nose rubbed up my neck before he settled in with a sigh. The hot breath against my throat sent a shiver racing over my nerves, and I just about came out of my own skin. “Edwin. Stay.”
He wasn’t dreaming of someone else. He was dreaming of me.
Why? This was not a rhetorical question. By Nimus, I wanted an answer.
“James,” I whispered, determined to get to the bottom of this. “What do you want from me?”
“You,” he answered on a sigh. “I’d do anything to be with you.”
The sincerity hit me hard, and my heartstrings tangled and tugged. I didn’t understand, honestly, but I believed he meant it.
“But I’m already with you,” I pointed out. “Want me how?”
No answer.
“Prince James?” I ducked my head a little sideways to see his face, and dammit, he’d fallen fast asleep. While leaning up against me, no less. No wonder he’d gotten heavier.
Clearly, my desire for answers wouldn’t be satisfied tonight. I’d have to find a method to mine them from him later. For now, I supposed I’d let the poor man sleep.
I laid him carefully down onto his bed, drew the covers up, then stopped and looked at him for a long moment.
Prince James had been blessed by the gods in looks and charm.
Even like this, he was beautiful, with those chiseled cheekbones and jawline, his platinum hair soft against the pillow.
Anyone, if asked, would happily be lovers with this man.
I wasn’t blind to the many, many complications that would come with dating him.
No one would approve of our relationship, as I wasn’t anywhere on his social level.
I had nothing to recommend me—no money, no connections, no royal blood.
Bastard child though he was, Prince James was a favorite of the royal family, and everyone would have issue with us openly dating.
To their eyes, I might be worth a dalliance but nothing more.
Nobles weren’t kind to commoners reaching “higher than their station.” Courting would also make things awkward as hell because people would try to use me to get to him.
I also wasn’t blind to my own attraction to Prince James. He was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful, I felt sure he’d be an amazing lover. He saw me, like no one ever had before and maybe never could. The knowledge took my breath away.
There was also this strange tug towards him.
I felt strongly that I was meant to stand by his side.
I had no rational explanation for the feeling.
I couldn’t begin to explain it, and yet every time I was with this man, I let him in that much closer.
I did that much more for him, like now. Getting him to eat dinner and putting him to bed was far outside of my duties.
I’d done them without hesitation because I disliked seeing him suffering.
Such actions felt right, soul-satisfying, and I couldn’t explain that either.
The desire to be the one at his side kept growing, urging me to forget the consequences and go for it.
It left me very torn on what course of action to take. Did I listen to my common sense?
Or give in to my desires?
Because, dammit, James Kronenscheld truly tempted me.
But questions tangled in with my temptations. What had all his comments meant? How had he known about my suit stash? About me not snoring?
And what if I had made an assumption I shouldn’t have?
He’d told me he battled the Demon King in a previous life, and with the amount of detail he knew about the demon portal, I believed him.
It sounded like he had experienced it all himself.
He’d given me enough details to believe he knew his Tasks for this life.
Only…what if the life he’d lived hadn’t been from a hundred years ago?
I didn’t know how else to think of this, but he knew too much, as if he’d lived this life before and was somehow repeating it… But that didn’t make sense either.
Had he regressed?
Surely not. Surely I had leapt to assumptions. Ugh, I seriously wanted to ask more questions. How dare he fall asleep mid-interrogation!
Sighing, I turned and headed for the door. Never mind my book, I needed a stout drink and to stare into nothing for a while. I couldn’t even drink and I still needed one. I clearly had some thinking to do.