her bag from the night before. Returned to his side.
And handed him her brass knuckles.
His fingers closed over the cut of metal and the spiked tips seemed to cut into her lungs.
“You won’t regret this,” he murmured.
Throat tight, she nodded.
“Get changed.” His gaze was soft with understanding. “Let’s see who you really are.”
12
Kris settled on a satisfied grin when Frankie stepped into his sitting room, tugging self-consciously at her top shirt button. Better to not make a big deal about how she was made for that uniform. The cut of the trousers, the crisp-edged collar, the status symbol of the gold thread. When she stopped fiddling, it would tap into her air of command and send it skyrocketing.
“That’s just how top buttons feel,” he said, and stood. “Ready?”
Hand lowering, she glanced around. “Where’s this breakfast you promised?”
“In the blue parlor,” he said. “Where I eat breakfast every morning.”
Unease flashed in her eyes. “I thought we’d eat here together.”
“No. We’ll eat there together.”
She swallowed. “In front of people?”
“You’re the one who told the guards about us.” He gestured for her to lead the way out, mainly to ensure she didn’t try to hide under the bed. “I won’t touch you outside of this room. To anyone who doesn’t know, I’m just a prince walking with a member of the royal guard. Nothing suspicious about that.”
She looked wary, but jerked her chin up and strode across the room. He followed, and as she reached for the door handle, it hit him that this was their first day as a couple. Him and Frankie. When they went their separate ways after breakfast, they’d still be together. His heart swelled so big that he reached around her to hold the door shut, sliding his other arm around her stomach, stealing one last moment of contact.
She shot a look up at him over her shoulder and muttered, “I really should expect this by now. What?”
“I love you.”
He was allowed to say it—allowed to watch the words seep into her like sunlight.
Every trace of strain left her face and she smiled, cheeks pink, and gave a little nod. Unable to stop himself, he angled his head and kissed her, and for a while, all he knew was her taste.
“Alright, I get it,” she said, pushing him off and looking flustered.
Laughing, he drew back so she could open the door. The first awkward moment—for Frankie—happened immediately, when she emerged to find Peter and Hanna standing guard. The pair bowed as Kris stepped out behind her, pretending not to notice that their superior had spent the night with their prince.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” Peter greeted, straightening. “Ma’am.”
“Morning,” he said. “We’re off to breakfast.”
Frankie’s face was bright red. She looked mortified and ready to bolt.
“I’ve heard it’s pancakes this morning,” Hanna said politely.
“Great.” His stomach rumbled. “Frankie loves pancakes. Don’t you?”
She flung a desperate I-don’t-know-if-I-can-do-this glance at him.
He casually slid his thumb into his front pocket and waited.
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth.
He smiled. There—she’d contributed to the conversation. The first step toward a future where she’d walk out his door and greet his guards in her stride.
Kris briefly caught Hanna’s eye. The woman raised a hand to the collar of her own uniform, and mouthed, Wow.
He raised a brow as if to answer, I know, right?
Then he said, “Let’s go,” and Frankie fell into step beside him, his guards following behind. As they rounded a corner, he asked, “Was that so bad?”
“I don’t know.” Her cheeks were still pink. “It’s just—a whole new dynamic to figure out between me and my team. I’m not just their boss anymore. I’m your—”
He eyed her, gratified that he could suggest, “Girlfriend?”
She almost looked shy. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “And I get it. But the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Stepping out my door shouldn’t be a changeover from one to the other. You can be both.”
“I’ll work on it.” She tugged at the top of her uniform again. “I’ve never been a girlfriend before.”
“And I’ve never had one.”
It should have bothered him. That his life with Frankie would be set on a public stage, their status exposing them to endless demands and intrusions of privacy, expectation that would surely strain the bond of the most seasoned long-term couple—and neither of them had even been in a relationship. And he’d heard relationships weren’t easy. It would be like learning to swim together in the middle of the ocean, and being told, also, there are sharks. They would get things wrong—panic, make bad decisions,