down her neck. She swallowed, and he followed the line of her throat past her collar and to the folds of linen against her breasts. Charm’s skin felt tight and ready, his palms hot, wanting to be filled with her hair and thighs. At least, he thought, he would have no trouble stirring himself for her. He only wished they could make love joyfully, as friends. Hal loved to wrestle, to run and play, and sex ought to have been exactly that between them.
Without warning, Hal kissed him.
Her mouth was hot but awkward, a forceful press of lips—not even as simple as the kiss she’d given him before the folk of Lionis Palace. Charm parted his lips and breathed in softly against her, a god’s kiss.
Hal leaned down off her tiptoes.
Charm had already touched her hips, and followed her motion, letting her be free, though one hand lingered against her ribs, rucking her shirt up slightly.
With wide, intent brown eyes, she studied him, and said, “I keep thinking of Owyn Glennadoer, who I skewered as you will skewer me. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, blood on my sword, and blood sprayed, like ribbons in my hair.”
“I am not a knife inside you,” Charm said very low in his throat. “I am not your death. I have seen death, too, Hal.”
She flattened her hand on his chest and pushed gently.
Charm released his hold.
“Tell me a different story,” Hal whispered, turning her back to him. She reached up to draw her hair around her shoulder, off her neck, and caught his eye briefly.
He stepped close, putting one hand carefully around her waist, and when she did not flinch or draw away, he pulled her flat against him. “You are Aremoria,” he murmured, bending his neck to say the words against her temple. Her lashes fluttered and closed. “The only story I know for this is about touch, and smells, and trust, Hal.” He put his lips to her skin, kissed her, breathing in. “You smell of sweet pine boughs from the receiving hall. Of salt and wine, a heady combination, Prince. I am here to serve you, to make you a Mother one day, the greatest role for a man to play in a queen’s line—and though I may do other things, serve you in other ways to be your consort, my ambition is my own. Through you, I will be able to influence the course of history. For you, I give my body, my seed, and my future united to your line forever. Tell me what you smell.”
Startled, she opened her eyes. Hal put a hand over his on her stomach, sliding her fingers forward to link between his. She turned her face and breathed in. “Wine, and sword oil, and the tickle of the powder in your hair. I don’t know what it smells like, a very delicate clay, perfumed with a vivid earthy something. It smells like I want to taste it.”
“Myrrh,” Charm said.
“You smell like myrrh,” she whispered.
“Do you like it?”
“I do. I like it.”
“That is all this is, Prince Hal, our marriage. Two bodies touching until we smell the same.”
She leaned against him, as if she was finally relaxing. “You did promise me poetry,” she said, eyes closed, head lolling.
Charm hugged her, wrapping both arms around her, and he kissed her cheek, then with one hand tilted her chin sideways to kiss her mouth. He liked how she smelled and tasted, and gave in to the urge to open her mouth with his, kissing more deeply.
Hal shivered, and the squirm of it slid along his entire body. Charm moaned softly for her, so she would know his pleasure, as his sex organ hardened.
But the prince went stiff, too, closing her mouth.
He let go.
“This isn’t going to work,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she moved away—but her thigh hit the edge of the sofa and she snapped her eyes up to his. “We’ll need something to … I’ll never be ready. I—I know what is necessary, and it will hurt me too much unless I have something to wet myself with.”
Charm, who had believed her months ago when she had said as much, nodded, jaw clenched. He did his best to hide his disappointment, glad she could not see how warm his face felt, could not understand how tightly he had grown. “I have another strategy prepared,” he said, going to the door. He opened it before she could stop him.
Three attendants waited,