now.” His smile widens. “Do you have feelings for me? Have you fallen for your prince?”
My face burns at the cocksure tone. I want to say no just to spite him.
“It’s okay to admit it. It just means you’ve joined the legion of women on my Instagram.”
I squeeze his cock a little too hard and rip away from his hands, but he pulls me back into his irresistible warmth. He buries his fingers in my hair and gently pulls it as my head tips back, and then his lips touch mine. Soft kisses leave me gasping for breath, or perhaps it’s the pounding of my heart from the way he keeps looking at me. I know that look. I used to see it on Ben. That little knowing smile.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close, almost as though he wants to push me into his heart. He digs his fingers into my back as he turns his head and kisses the shell of my ear.
“You came back to me. I won’t forget that.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll see,” he says, kissing my neck.
I shiver as he pushes down my dress, his mouth making a trail of kisses.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
I jump violently in Liam’s arms, my heart pounding against my ribs as someone pounds on the door.
Liam snarls at it. “The fuck is it?”
“Your Highness, I have an urgent message.”
“It can wait,” he says dismissively, turning back toward me.
“The king is dead.”
Eleven
Prince Liam Celebrates Dad’s Death
Liam
There’s not a dry eye in the church.
I wonder how many of them are secretly gleeful, as I am, that my father is gone. Look, the man was a bastard. He single-handedly alienated the country from the rest of the world. His own sons hated him. I can’t be a little relieved that he’s gone?
Daisy rubs my back, her fingers teasing my neck. She’s playing the part of the dutiful wife as I’m playing the part of the subdued son. My head hangs as I accept people’s handshakes and sorry-for-your-losses. It’s not a bloody loss! I want to yell at them. Let’s party!
We leave the church after an hour of listening to the priest drone on, and reporters surround Daisy and I, thrusting their microphones under my nose.
“There will be a government-enforced week of mourning for my father’s passing.”
The old bastard wrote it down as part of his final request. A week of no work just to honor the memory of our bastard king.
“We will be celebrating his life all week. Daisy will be hosting the first-ever American festival in honor of the late king.”
I can barely contain my glee at what the press will make of that. They scream questions at us as I brush them aside and walk down the church’s steps to the waiting car. I follow Daisy inside as the door shuts behind us.
She watches me with a little smile.
“What?”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to host festivals when your dad literally just died?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t think that sends a really weird message to the people? He dies and all of a sudden we’re importing corn dogs for my American festival?”
“What’s a corn dog?”
She stares at me. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“No, I’m not.”
Daisy runs a hand down her face. “It’s a hot dog dipping in a corn-meal-based batter, which is then deep-fried and served on a stick with ketchup.”
“That sounds bloody disgusting.”
“They are delicious. Anyway, this whole thing seems a little too ‘ding-dong the witch is dead.’”
I sit back into the seat cushions, smiling to myself. This must seem batshit insane to her, but for me it’s like breathing in fresh air after a lifetime of living in sewers. I’m itching to undo the damage, but I cannot issue edicts until the week has passed.
The car drops us off at the village. It’ll be good to get out there, see the people. Daisy follows me out of the car. The crowd bursts into cheers when they see me. A local TV crew is already there, filming me, and I gesture for them to gather in front of me. I raise my hands, signaling for silence, and they quiet down.
“I would like to say something to you all!”
The remaining noise simmers down.
“I see a lot of hopeful faces in this crowd expecting greatness from me. I don’t know if I can give you greatness, but I can promise you change. For years we’ve all lived under the yoke of my father. I’m here to change Anglefell. Let’s make Anglefell great