CHAPTER 36
Keenan
Princess Sakura’s black eyes narrowed. “Did I say it was?” Tightening her grip on the fingers she still held captive, she took a step closer. “I am aware of the seriousness of the situation.”
“This might have been the wrong tunnel,” Cherry squeaked.
Keenan spared her a brief glance, but his emotions were too wound up in the woman next to him to pay much mind to the dragon’s hunched posture on Oliver’s shoulder. He tried to pull his hand free, but the princess clamped hers into a fist. She was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be.
“I don’t know what you and your mother are up to, but I want no part of it,” he grumbled. Bringing their joined hands around to the front, he tried to pry her fist open. She bore down, her knuckles turning white with the effort.
A whine drifted down the tunnel. “Definitely the wrong one. We should have gone right.”
“I’m not up to anything,” Princess Sakura protested. Her eyes burned with the fire that he’d seen in the garden of the winter castle when she accused him of treacherous motives.
“Sure you aren’t.” The strange heat of the caverns fueled his frustration as he tried to free himself without hurting her.
He never should have submitted to the temptation of her trailing fingers.
“Do you deny throwing yourself at me when you caught up to me in the mountains? Or that the queen was forcing us together before we left?”
She looked away, but her grip didn’t loosen. “If that’s all you see, why did you accept my hand? Earlier or just now?”
“Because I—” Clenching his jaw, he turned his eyes to the ceiling as he remembered the sinking feeling in his stomach when Oliver and Cherry debunked the princess’s prophecy. “Your behavior had changed since then. So when you made a move, I thought—”
I thought it was real.
Dropping their hands, he turned his back on her. “You offered, I accepted. It was clearly a mistake, because you’re still offering.”
“How does that make it a mistake?” she demanded.
“There is no prophecy.” His jaw tightened, increasing the pounding in his temples. “That means you have no reason to settle for a commoner now.”
“We should really go back! Now!” their dragon companion squeaked, but they both ignored her.
“You believe my continued interest means it is a ploy?” The princess stepped around him so that she was glaring up into his face again. “If the prophecy doesn’t exist, then I can’t care about a weapon-smith?”
“The perfect princess of Ryuni?” he scoffed. A flash of hurt danced through her eyes. “Admit it – seeing your brother take your place was second to the horror of expecting to marry someone who was beneath you. You must be relieved to know it won’t happen.”
The princess leaned into him, and he took a step back.
His anger was building under the influence of his frustration and pain, but he couldn’t let it escape.
Nor could he let her overcome his common sense again by charming him with her pretty black eyes or the fingers that currently had a death grip on his own.
So when she followed him, he retreated. When his back hit the wall, he held their hands between them and set his other hand on her shoulder. She strained against his hold. Despite his accusations, there was nothing coy about her right now.
“Do not presume to read my thoughts, weapon-smith!” She pressed her lips together. It was strangely adorable. “Did it never occur to you that I held your hand because I wanted to?”
He shook his head. “You care too much about the queen’s opinion. And you’re too invested in protecting your brother from the crown.”
The princess stared at him for a moment, then slowly lifted her free hand and ran light fingers over his jaw.
His skin tingled from her touch, and the arm holding her away loosened.
She shifted closer, gazing up at him with the expression he’d seen under the cherry trees.
“What if I saw something in those blue eyes of yours that made Mother’s opinion unimportant? ”
“I hate my eyes,” he growled, but the assertion held less heat than usual. Her fingers drew circles in the scruff on his jaw, and he closed his eyes, weakening.
“What if I would rather have you and figure the rest out later?” she murmured.
A spear of rational argument pierced the haze her words and presence had created in his mind.
It should have tempered every interaction he’d had with her since, but it was too easy to ignore evidence he didn’t like in favor of sweet whiffs of an alluring present.
And he was frustratingly weak to any encouragement the princess offered.
Forcing his eyes open, he carefully removed her hand from his face. “Then why did you reject my cherry blossoms?” he whispered, his anguish leaking into his voice. “It was just a friendly gesture, but if you truly want this, why did you pretend they weren’t there?”
She looked away, her grip on his fingers finally loosening. Her mouth opened, but it closed again after several seconds. And her silence spoke volumes.
“That’s what I thought.” The pain fueled his anger, and the combination made his hands as rough as his voice as he shoved her away. “You have a lot of pretty words when you want them, but in the end, your actions give you away.”
“Keenan—”
“Save it!” His hand swiped through the air between them. “Being royal does not mean you can use the people—”
A firm hand landed on his left shoulder. “Keenan, take a walk,” Oliver snapped. Keenan shook him off and pressed a hand to his aching forehead.
“This isn’t a good place!” Cherry squawked. “We should leave!”
The heat that had been bothering him since they entered the cavern fanned into flame.
Suddenly, everything he’d been shoving down since stumbling across the winter castle bubbled to the surface.
Every frustration with the queen, every moment of anger at something the princess or one of his other companions said or did.
He knew he kept his anger leashed for a reason, but it eluded him as red crept around the edges of his vision.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Keenan raged. His resentment at Geoffrey’s meddling bared its teeth, and he curled his hands into fists. “You may be Prince Michael’s guard, but that doesn’t give you any authority over me.”
“Keenan, calm down.” Princess Sakura’s voice trembled. She held her hands up placatingly as his head swung around to her. “I understand you’re upset, but if you would listen—”
“To more of your lies?” he spat. His fists lifted toward his waist, itching to release the emotions crashing through him.
She flinched, and a distant part of his mind shouted that it was a bad thing, but he could barely hear it over the blood surging through his ears.
He took a step toward her, and the fire in his veins purred. “Why don’t you—”
A hand landed on his other shoulder. Keenan whirled, his fist flying up to teach the interloper a lesson, but then he froze.
“That’s my boy!” The hand clapped him on the back, sending him stumbling in his shock. “I knew you’d make your old man proud someday.”
Keenan’s jaw dropped, the red vanishing from his vision as quickly as it had appeared.
It was impossible.
Cherry wailed in the background. “Too late!”
Too late, indeed. He wanted to run, but his feet were glued to the floor.
And as the man in front of him stepped forward, the world shrank. His companions disappeared, and Keenan was alone with the person he feared most.
“Father?”