Loving a Prince Charming - By Danielle Monsch Page 0,7

red.

With her red hair and fair skin, she should have freckles, but she didn’t. What she had instead was a wide mouth that had a perfectly formed top lip and a too-thin bottom lip, but those two combined created the most glorious smile he had ever beheld on anyone.

That was Kira in a nutshell, dazzling in her slight imperfections. Blessed with quick wits and battle skills only men usually possessed, and far more feminine than any lady who dedicated herself to gossip and fashion.

“Kira, Your Highness, come to ride today?”

Seth jerked back the same way a child with his hand in the cookie jar would. Kira’s father stood before them. Taren’s eyes narrowed as his gaze went between the two of them, and a roiling, nauseated sensation grew stronger in Seth’s stomach the longer the man stared at them. He cleared his throat. “No, Taren. I’ve just finished a – discussion – with my father. I think I’ll retire to my rooms before dinner to relive the words of wisdom I received.”

The phrasing worked as Seth hoped. Taren was no stranger to his recent disagreements with his father, and the captain’s face went from suspicion to vague sympathy. “Of course, Highness.”

Seth looked back to Kira. There was color in her cheeks and she was deliberately not looking at him. “We’ll meet up later,” he said, just to have something to say, because for the first time in his life, he was unsure exactly what to say to her.

And with her nod, he fled from his best friend.

Chapter Three

“Your focus is non-existent, Kira. If I were the enemy, you’d be dead.”

Kira picked herself from the floor, her lungs taking in great gulps of air as she recovered from the sparring. Her father never had pulled punches with her during a lesson, and today was no exception. He had laid her low more times today than he had for years.

Taren continued. “What is going on? Where’s your mind?”

Kira took a swig of water, swishing it in her mouth before swallowing. “Places it shouldn’t be.”

“You always go places you shouldn’t be. Why should your mind be any different?” Her father offered her a cloth to wipe the perspiration from her face.

She took it, and with the first swipe the sting in her eyes lessened and her face cooled a fraction. “Usually when that happens it’s because Seth drags me there.”

Her father smirked. “And again I say, what’s different?”

The sudden twist of her stomach could not be blamed on her recent match, more’s the pity. She took another drink of the water to giver herself a moment to compose an answer. “What do you mean?”

Her father shook his head. “Don’t do that. I’ll never pry, but don’t hide from me.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” She motioned toward the bench against the wall, and at his nod, they walked together to reach the resting area. Once they were comfortable she began. “I’ve thought a lot about something. I’ve been thinking of nothing else these last several months, truth be told.” And now came the hard part, and her stomach cramped further. Her mind was made up. She knew, knew, this was the best decision. Why were these last words so hard? “I need to leave once Seth gets married. I won’t be happy or comfortable here anymore, and I would rather make a clean break than try to hold on and become more miserable by the day.”

Instead of shock or anger, her father nodded. He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the skin of her palm. “I was expecting this. I hoped I was wrong, but I knew I wasn’t. Of course you can’t live here when Seth has a wife. And if you did, it would be the worst mistake you could make.”

Her father’s acceptance broke something in her that anger or judgment could never have touched. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she used her free hand to rub them away. “How would it be a mistake?”

“Because neither you nor he are people who could live with yourselves if you had an affair, but that’s exactly what would eventually occur. It would be unavoidable, the way the two of you feel for each other.” Her father’s words were stark, direct. There was no cruelty or malice contained in them, only pure truth and the acceptance of it.

In her eyes her father was a warrior, the leader of soldiers who fought and bled for his king. He embodied that to such an