22. Princess Esemeray
PRINCESS ESEMERAY
Her heart lodged in her throat at Killian standing before her. He was much larger up close—not as tall as Riggs. The sheer size of his muscles reminded her of a god. Uncrossing her legs, Esemeray stood, trying her hardest not to sway.
Killian scoffed, his face glistening with sweat. “I want to make myself clear, princess. You need to go back to where you belong.” He bared his teeth like an animal. “Which is not here.”
Esemeray swallowed hard, her mouth going dry. She blinked at him and whispered, “I cannot.”
It wasn’t that she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.
Not after her mother murdered?—
Her stomach tightened.
Killian took one step closer, peering down his nose. “You can, and you will.” His voice was a lethal calm.
Esemeray squared her shoulders. “I cannot and will not,” she challenged, refusing to back down. Her eyes landed on the thick scar on his cheek. Her breath caught. What happened to him?
Killian chuckled, vicious and low. “Don’t make me regret my next words, princess.”
Esemeray took one step closer, feeling the heat radiating off his skin and the smell of his sweat. He needed a bath, but she didn’t let the disgust show on her face. “You should not live life with regrets, so go ahead, Killian, say what you wish.”
A corner of his lip curled. “You are not welcome here, and I will make you wish you returned to your little kingdom. Mark my words.”
Little kingdom. She wanted to laugh, wanted to smile, but she didn’t.
Instead, she glared with the same hate he gave her.
“Looking forward to it.” She wouldn’t let him scare her, and she wouldn’t take it personally, either.
She knew he was just miserable. If she could survive her mother—she could survive him. Piece of cake.
Riggs ran up, sweat dripping off the grooves of his sculpted body. “Is everything alright?” he asked breathlessly.
Killian didn’t meet his brother’s gaze, keeping them locked with Esemeray’s burning irises. “Everything’s perfect.” He scowled, striding away.
Riggs' jaw clenched. “Sorry about him.” His hand pressed against her shoulder, and she leaned into his warmth…and sweat.
“I don’t think he likes me here.”
Riggs turned toward the house, watching Killian walk away. “It’s not his choice.” He faced her with a smile. “I want you here, and that’s all that matters.”
She allowed his words to soothe her.
“Thank you.” She jerked her chin toward the sparring ring. “You fight well. Maybe you can teach me one day,” she joked, trying to lighten her tension. She knew she’d never be able to swing a sword like that, or move in the ways they did.
Riggs raised a brow and crossed his arms, his biceps flexing. “I could show you.”
She chuckled. “I’d fail miserably.”
“Not if I taught you…” His lips curved. “I can be a good teacher.”
The feral stare in his eyes made her suck in a sharp breath. She was grateful for Killian’s sobering confrontation. He’d ruined her buzz, but she supposed that was a good thing since Rhidian was now approaching, throwing his tunic over his shoulder.
“Emmy, I hope you’re enjoying your time.” Rhidian respectfully assessed her wardrobe. “Is that my son’s tunic you have been wearing all day?”
Heat bloomed across her cheeks. “Yes, my gown got ruined…at the restaurant yesterday,” she fibbed, chewing on her thumb nail.
Rhidian gripped Riggs shoulder. “Are you going to make your friend wear just a tunic for your celebration tonight?”
Riggs' eyes grew heavy as he scanned her up and down. Esemeray didn’t miss his lingering gaze on her exposed thighs. She pulled the tunic further down, looking anywhere else, fixing her gaze on a bird bath.
Brave.
Riggs Whitlock is brave.
“I have something you can wear, Emmy. Their mother was around your size,” Rhidian said.
That made Esemeray look at him. Her stomach plummeted. She couldn’t wear Riggs' mother’s clothes. “Oh, I do not want to burden you.” She picked at the fabric over her body, throwing Rhidian an innocent smile. “It doesn’t look too bad. Does it?”
Riggs stifled a laugh, sticking both thumbs in the air, mouthing, “You look great.”
Trying not to giggle at Riggs, she assessed Rhidian’s rugged, handsome features, finding the similarities in his boys. Riggs looked like his father, but Rhidian’s eyes…those were Killian’s eyes.
Rhidian shook his head. “Nonsense, Emmy, I’ll leave a few outfits in Riggs' room for you.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude filled her heart as she watched him stride toward the house.
“I think my father approves of you.”
Esemeray rolled her eyes and poked Riggs' chest. “I think the sun has fried your brain.”
Riggs grabbed her finger, halting her. “I don’t think it has, princess.”
Esemeray fluttered her eyelashes, pulling her index out of his hold, smiling.
Riggs reached out his hand and bowed at the waist. “Shall we prepare for tonight…” He took her hand into his, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “...Princess.”
“We shall.”
All the dresses Rhidian laid out were stunning.
She settled on a satin cherry-red dress with long sleeves.
The dress was luckily high enough to cover the scar on her neck.
She ran her hands down the sides, smoothing the fabric, and looked at her feet, wiggling her toes.
No shoes. She’d wear the ones Riggs made, but?—
She glanced at the wooden thin blocks with tangled twine resting on the floor and frowned.
She couldn’t wear those.
Barefoot it is.
After minutes of pacing, she finally worked up enough courage to walk out of Riggs' closet.
Riggs sat up on his bed, eyes wide. “Whoa,” he breathed. He was already dressed, donning a black tunic and tan pants. No weapons in sight.
Needing to do something with her hands, Esemeray tangled them together. “Your mother has good taste.” Her mother would never let her wear a dress like this. She had heard enough brutal comments from her to know exactly what she’d say. “Only whores parade in such fashion.”
But Esemeray knew, the only whore was her murdering mother.
Riggs rose, slowly approaching her. “Yes,” he said, voice rough, “she did.” He raised his hand, twirling a single finger. “Spin.”
She obeyed his command, breathing through her nerves.
“Slower,” Riggs' voice purred behind her.
Slowing her movements, her body warmed, heart thundering. She met his gaze, and blushed.
Riggs closed the space between them.
Her breath hitched.
They stared at each other in silence. She could have sworn he leaned down toward her—could have sworn his hands clenched at his sides to keep from touching her.
Riggs cleared his throat, glancing at her feet.
She wiggled her toes. “Thank you.”
They locked eyes.
“For?” He arched his brow.
“The shoes.” She inhaled deeply. “They held together well.”
“I should have crafted you something to wear with this dress,” he said, adjusting his collar. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to my party?” Riggs asked in an accent, making a funny face.
She laughed, shaking her head. “Yes, you goof.”
Obnoxious deep male voices echoed as they descended the stone steps.
“Zander’s here.” Riggs rubbed the back of his neck. “My cousin…he’s a flirt, just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Esemeray picked at her nails. “Thanks for the warning.”
She could tell Riggs was nervous by the way he slowed his steps on the stairs, by the way he closed his eyes for a second and took a long, deep breath as if he were preparing himself for tonight.
Feeling like she needed to give him space, she assessed the family room below.
The fire blazed bright in the pebbled stone fireplace, its warmth touching every inch of the house.
Reaching the lower level, she spotted Killian and Rhidian lounging on the leather couches in the living room, and another tall male with dark hair tied in a bun leaned against the bar with an amber bottle in his hand. A man she could only assume was Zander tossed a wide grin in their direction.
Riggs stepped in front of her as if hiding her from what was about to come. Esemeray pulled in her lips, stomach fluttering.
“Happy birthday, cousin!” Zander ran up, lifting Riggs in a crushing hug as if he weighed nothing at all.
Riggs punched Zander on the shoulder, laughing. “I missed you, man!”
Zander set Riggs down, ruffling his hair. “I got your preferred rum.” He held up the bottle, staring at it with an odd look. He let out a drawn-out sigh, and a crooked smile formed on his handsome face. “Don’t ask what I had to do to get it.”
She blushed with embarrassment—what did Zander do?
Riggs cheered. “Thanks Z!”
Zander nodded to Killian. “We were just talking about playing a card game…” His stare fell on Esemeray, the firelight catching his green eyes. “Whoa, who’s the lady?” He approached with a charming smile she had seen Riggs make many times before.
Must run in the family.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, flushing.
Riggs huffed a quiet laugh, meeting her stare. “This is Emmy.” The column of his throat worked. “My friend.” His voice was soft and intimate, like it meant something more, something real.
Killian grumbled something under his breath. “I need something to drink.” He stood and headed toward the kitchen.
Esemeray fought the instinct to curtsy, settling for a subtle nod. “Nice to meet you.”
My friend. Riggs' smooth voice echoed through her mind. Her heart swelled.
Zander gawked. “How come I’ve never seen you before?”
Riggs flicked Zander’s chin. “Need some help picking your jaw off the floor?”
“I am new to town, actually,” Esemeray lied, shifting on her feet.
Zander shook his head, glancing at Riggs. “How did you manage…you know what? Never mind. It’s your birthday. Let’s drink!”
Rhidian approached with a bottle. “Emmy, you must try our family wine.”
She glanced at Riggs, who winked and brought his finger to his lips.
Esemeray set her gaze back on Rhidian. “I would love to.”