7. SEVEN #2
She crosses her arms, somehow looking down at me despite the half foot I have on her.
“That’s nonsense. There may be rich nobles who are unwilling to get their hands dirty, but if you simply ask, many women would step forward for the same chances given to a man.
You are wasting the potential of half your population. ”
I slaughtered plenty of royals for their pride and haughty discontent. I despise the privileged who walk on the backs of others for profit, yet I find the princess’s confidence incredibly alluring.
Perhaps it’s because her passion matches my own. For vengeance. For equality. For change.
Or perhaps it’s the fierce image of her with a drawn bow and all that she can teach my army. What other techniques does she possess?
“Then I’ll ask them.” I eliminate the space between us and bring her hand to my lips, enjoying the fracture in her confidence as she blushes. “Consider it a wedding gift, though I’ll need your help developing a training regimen for the women. We have no precedent to build on.”
The way her eyes light up is worth every headache and argument such a decree will bring across my desk. “I would be honored.”
I release her hand and head toward the archery line. I grab a bow and sink an arrow into the center of the target. My technique is flawless, but the raw power I use to pull the bowstring is obvious after watching her shoot. “Would you show me your improved stance?”
A beat passes as she tries to read me, her lovely eyes piercing and cautious. “Of course.”
As she explains each step, her hands roam over my arms and hips to adjust my posture. Did she touch the others so casually while teaching them? An unrecognizable ember burns through my stomach.
I forget to hold back my next shot, and the arrow shatters against the back wall like a crack of lightning. She arches a dark brow at me, but I ignore her and nock the next arrow.
I thought I was fine with the idea of my wife keeping a lover as long as they’re discreet, yet the idea of the princess touching someone else so casually makes me want to snap this bow in half.
She places a hand on my arm, her breath hot against my neck when she says, “Relax your shoulder.” The bow creaks in my grip.
If she wants to train others, I’ll have to insist on a uniform of some sort. The light blue fabric draped over her curves is highly improper for the training grounds.
And distracting as fuck.
Every touch sends a wave of heat down my spine, settling low in my abdomen. She is unspeakably gorgeous and somehow looks completely at home as she guides my fingers on the bowstring to the corner of my mouth.
I channel my frustration into firing the next arrow. I feel the difference immediately. The draw time is slower, but not enough to cause an issue. The power exchange for the shot is worth an extra second or two.
My arrow rips through the dummy and lodges deep into the far wall.
My main contact warned me about Kalisham’s archers, but his words failed to set expectations. This new way of shooting is deadly and built for all body types, reducing draw fatigue. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, it would’ve caught me off guard in battle.
“Not bad for your first time,” she teases. I can’t remember the last time someone spoke to me like this outside of Staefan, Tayla, and Alexi. I should shut it down. Assert the tone of our partnership. Instead, I find myself closing the distance between us.
“I’m a quick study. You’ll have to show me what other moves you’ve specialized in.” The words come out far more suggestive than I intend. I want to learn and improve my skills. That’s all.
She pretends to ponder my offer, oblivious to my accidental double meaning. “Perhaps if you feed me first. I only found this place because of my quest for breakfast.”
I pause. “A maid should’ve provided you with food and a temporary wardrobe. I sent the order last night.”
She gives a small spin to showcase her makeshift gown. “If that had happened, I wouldn’t be wearing your drapery.”
“The soldiers assigned to you could have shown you the way.”
“They were gone as well.” She lifts a toned shoulder and lets it fall. I kick myself for not noticing their absence sooner.
Irritation calls to violence inside me. I was wise to keep Alexi on guard duty. Anyone could have tried to harm her last night, and perhaps someone did try and failed. Alexi won’t report in until later tonight.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this level of petty interference is a jab at my choices. I’ll find out which councilor pulled her detail and pay them back appropriately.
Clearing my throat, I hold out my hand. “Let’s hunt you down something to eat first. Then I’ll send for the curtain maker.”
Her laughter catches me off guard. I’m not accustomed to making jokes so openly. The screams of war are my usual companion.
She slides her soft fingers into my palm. “Lead the way.”
I bring her grip to my arm as we take a side exit, away from prying ears and interested gazes. The material of her dress takes on a translucent quality once we hit the sunlight, and I nearly swallow my tongue.
My jacket is around her shoulders before I even register my arms moving.
She raises a brow. “I’m not cold.” Before she can shrug the jacket off, I pull the edges closed, trapping her arms in place.
“Humor me.” I don’t miss the dangerous heat in her glare as I tug her a fraction of an inch closer.
“Unless you want people to see their future queen like this?” I nod down to where the sunlight leaves little to the imagination.
It’ll take all my strength to focus on leading us to the kitchen without ogling her.
The tension leaves her body as she looks down, then back up with a wry smile. “Oh.”
I’ll have to arrange for the clothing designer to come today instead of tomorrow. For my sanity.