Chapter 26 #2
Jasmeen’s green eyes brim with tears as she pulls me in for an embrace.
Once she releases me, she splashes her face with the cool water.
Carefully, I scrape the dried blood from her neck, shoulder, and arm.
My fingers rub at a stubborn stain on her jaw, above the cut to her throat when a loud thud startles us.
Brynn and Glo stand at the far edge of the pool, a dropped pile of wood at their feet.
Jasmeen dips lower into the water for modesty’s sake. I do not bother. There is no world in which a prince and his faithful guard have not seen a woman in her undergarments. Brynn’s mouth opens and closes several times, as though he’s forgotten every language he speaks.
Glo slaps his arm absently. “Are you seeing this? Pretty sure this is what most of my dreams are like before I wake up.”
Even Brynn laughs. With zero shame, Glo strips to her underwear and dives into the pool, emerging only to splash us.
Brynn busies himself by regathering the scattered bits of firewood.
About ten feet from the pool, he prepares what will become tonight’s fire, all the while stealing glances in our direction.
Jasmeen offers to scrub the dried gold blood from Glo’s skin, and I take the hint, letting them be.
“Why don’t you join us, Prince?” I ask, wading to the lip of the pool closest to Brynn. He flinches, like calling him by his title is worse than his true name.
“I don’t want to intrude,” he says quietly. His warm eyes linger on my bare shoulders a beat before meeting my stare.
“You’re covered in Jasmeen’s blood,” I comment coolly.
He answers with a sigh.
“Suit yourself.”
I glide back toward Jas and Glo, who giggle and splash each other. I was here first, yet I’ve become the spare. I clear my throat. Glo glances at me, her expression too sly.
“Just get in already, Vir,” she commands with a teasing glare. “Stop punishing yourself, you martyr. It’s been a shit day.”
Brynn appears miffed by her accusation. With a huff of exasperation, he stands to yank his tunic over his head unceremoniously. He kicks his boots to the side before diving into the water.
As soon as he emerges next to me, I splash him.
“Wow,” he says, scrubbing his face and swiping his wet hair back. “I guess I should expect as much. I deserve it.”
“So you are punishing yourself,” I jab. “Well, you may stop. You’re forgiven. Mostly. Only because you saved my friend, though.”
“Really? That’s all it took?” Brynn deadpans, but his shoulders relax in apparent relief.
“I’m glad you saved her, too,” Glo says, her fingers lingering on Jasmeen’s shoulder a beat too long. Glo’s pale orange face flushes. “I guess I also forgive you.”
Brynn shoots her a withering glance, but slowly grins in earnest. Jasmeen’s eyes shine with gratitude—thankful that no one has yelled at her yet, I assume.
I rinse my hair in the water while memorizing the feeling of the small, glowy pebbles at my feet.
They are warm, despite the pool’s coolness.
Like those random, tactile memories from childhood that hit at the most spontaneous of times—I will remember this sensation forever.
My thoughts quiet. In the stillness, I find myself watching Brynn scrub the blood from his chest and shoulders. He must sense my gaze.
“What?” he asks, tone ripe with uncertainty.
“Nothing,” I say with a sharp intake of breath. “You look less green now.”
I wade closer in the water, pinching the pebbles with my toes as I move. He dips his head under the surface and re-emerges, shaking off like a dog. With a chuckle, I splash him again. Jasmeen and Glo whisper on the opposite side of the pool. I bite my lip and lower my voice anyway.
“I am sorry for how I treated you last night.”
Brynn squints at first, disbelieving, but my sincerity must soften him. He gives me a sheepish smirk. “It’s a bit fuzzy, admittedly. Wicked hangover.” He taps his head, not meeting my eyes now. “But… I meant everything I said. I should have told you.”
“Everything?” I ask, my cheeks heating. His words ring in my ears—you could command me to do anything, with or without my true name, and I would obey. Without hesitation—I would do anything you ask of me.
He was drunk, I remind myself, tempering my own expectations. Plus, he believes he’s betrothed and is hellbent on fulfilling this bullshit prophecy. For a kingdom that may never accept him.
He exhales softly. “Everything.”
I spot a missed patch of dried blood, painting a dark trail from his ear to his shoulder. I move to wipe it away—
“May I?”
His smile is tight-lipped, but he nods. I cup a handful of water and let it loose at his neck. I wet my hands again, dabbing gently at the stain. He holds his breath, suddenly very interested in scrubbing the dirt and blood from his fingernails.
“You can look at me, you know. I may be wary of touch, but I am not shy,” I jest. Louder, I add, “Jasmeen’s already seen me naked.”
That draws even Glo’s wide-eyed attention. Jasmeen throws her head back with a laugh, wincing at the still healing wound on her neck.
“It’s true,” she says. “Thea’s the opposite of reserved.”
Glo throws a smug glance at Brynn, as if offering a silent I told you so. Who knows what she told him, though. Maybe that he doesn’t need to trouble himself with my secrets. What could she possibly be hiding? See how open she is!
I am reserved about all the wrong things. Let them assume what they will.
With how close Brynn and I are, I realize challenging him was a mistake—especially as his eyes begin their slow, heated journey over my collarbones. His fiery gaze burns me from the inside out. A thrumming starts far too low in my gut to be platonic.
“I think you’re good now,” I say ruefully, splashing away the last of the stain. I sink water—if anything, to cool myself down—and glide away from him in the pool.
The irony of being attracted to fellow royalty is not lost on me.
It’s the chief constraint I’d like to escape, after all.
Remembering this helps dull the ache in my chest as Brynn leaves the pool, his muscular back glistening.
He shakes his head again, running both hands through his wet hair.
I hurriedly avert my gaze. Edwin would always run his hands through his hair because he knew it drove me mad.
I don’t wish for Brynn to catch on. I prefer it to be just that—his natural, wholesome reaction to nerves.
You make me so nervous, he said last night.
He makes me nervous. Everything he drunkenly told me should turn me away, should extinguish any leftover spark.
Except it didn’t. I would be lying if I claimed it quelled my attraction to him.
If anything, it fanned the flames. What’s wrong with me?
Perhaps it’s one of those desire-what-you-cannot-have lusts.
Similar to what fueled my whirlwind romance with Edwin.
I huff and shake my head to rid the thought.
Perhaps this budding desire is simply an itch begging to be scratched.
Perhaps it’s better to have confirmation that there are no strings attached—no threats of looming commitment.
Less pressure if he’s fated by prophecy, tied to a future with someone else.
Because once he discovers I’ve lied about who I am, he’ll never trust me again. I sigh, shoulders slumping.
Brynn mutters something about giving us privacy to redress before wandering off alone.
Glo and I exit the pool next. We dry off as best we can before pulling our clothes back on.
Jasmeen emerges last. Glo’s face tightens with concern as she counts Jasmeen’s numerous scars.
Jasmeen, aware of both of our intent gazes, dresses hurriedly in fresh, unbloodied clothing.
Soon after, Glo takes my ruined tunic and tears it into strips to help Jasmeen re-bandage herself. Her expression clears. It’s replaced by a smooth, calm mask—for Jasmeen’s sake alone. But I know that look, that quiet determination, the promise of vengeance hinted just beneath its surface.