Stealing His Princess (Kings of Conquest #2) - Adelaide Forrest Page 0,21
in the military before he’d returned to serve my family.
I laughed and walked off towards the rooms I shared with Alina and our mother, knowing full well that he would follow. "The Kingdom of Oshal is the richest in the entire alliance. Their military and security forces are unrivaled by any other nation. Coming here should be a vacation for you and the rest of the men. What were you really doing?"
He shrugged as he lengthened his strides to catch up and walk beside me. While he was technically part of my personal security, we were near enough in age and had grown up around each other long enough that I considered him one of my closest friends. "I was watching. I only see you and the mistress at home and sure that's interesting, but watching all these royals in one room is diverting."
"Plus beautiful women?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
He shot me a wry grin. "Yes, there's a lot of beauty here this week. A man can’t be faulted for taking a look. Is it a woman that has you so troubled then?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled as I walked into the suite. Like a determined shadow, he sauntered in behind me before I could slam the door in his face.
"Liar. Your control only bends so far and there comes a time you need to vocalize these things so they don’t break you in two, Aric." His use of my given name reminded me that if there was one person who knew me beyond the facade of the hard-working and disciplined royal, it was Hicks. "Is it the Princess of Theodosia again? I imagine she's here, although I didn't see her at the ball."
I groaned and leaned my head against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment when unbidden memories of our moments in a darkened terrace flooded into my mind once again. "I regret telling you about her. It was a weak and stupid moment.”
“Don’t forget the alcohol,” he put in helpfully as he walked over to the bar that was set up by the window, and poured two fingers of amber colored whiskey into the crystal tumblers. As he handed me the glass, I stared down at the liquid inside. It reminded me too starkly of the eyes of a siren. My gut clenched as I yearned for her again.
I expelled a shaky breath and looked up to meet Hicks’s concerned gaze. “Ah yes, how could I forget the alcohol? If you must know, Bristol and I finally met formally.”
He stopped midway in the act of taking a sip of the whiskey. His voice had a tinge of surprise as he asked, "Formally met, eh? No more of that secret, pained stalking from a distance? How old was she when you first saw her? Eighteen? Princess Bristol, eighteen and tiny, showed up to wish Holden a happy birthday before being whisked away since she hadn’t technically come out yet?”
“You know it almost as well as I do,” I commented dryly as I inspected the bottom of my glass after consuming my whiskey in one shot. “But, yes, the first and last time I ever went to Mitnar to attend one of Holden’s parties. One year ago, now. Sometimes it feels like the blink of an eye, but it didn’t matter if I saw her for five minutes or five hours. I would react the same.”
“So how was it to finally talk to her? Was it just the two of you or was the King of Mitnar there?" Guilt, strong and potent coursed through me at the thought of Holden.
"Holden wasn't, no. She stepped into the same terrace where I was and before I could excuse myself, we got to talking. It was a mistake," I whispered, opening my eyes to look down in disgust at hands that were trembling. "Because whatever fantasies I had of her before? They pale in comparison to the reality of her, and that will be harder to live with."
There was silence as Hicks regarded me with sympathy before he walked over and gave me a pat on the shoulder. He plucked the empty glass from my hand to put it back onto the bar. "I'm sorry, Aric. I wish there was something I could do for you, but I'm helpless in this."
With the situation my father had trapped me in, I understood the helplessness all too well. "You and I both, Hicks. You and I both."