“Sir Kaelen,” I purred, a slow, entirely unbothered smile curling my lips as I stepped closer to his side of the desk.
“Are you jealous of a political prisoner?”
Kaelen’s breath caught sharply.
For a terrifying, intoxicating second, the rigid, professional knight completely vanished.
A fierce, stormy light erupted in his silver eyes, darkening them to the color of a midnight sea.
He didn’t back down.
Instead, he slammed his right hand flat onto the mahogany desk, the leather of his glove barking against the wood.
He leaned in so close his silver hair brushed against my cheek, trapping me between his massive, armored frame and the high back of my chair.
“Jealous?” Kaelen whispered, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly register that sent a violent tremor straight down my spine.
The formal protocol was entirely dead.
“I am your shield, Evangeline.
My only duty is to keep you alive.
But when you look at a man who has every reason to slit your throat in your sleep, and you offer him your table…
it makes my job exceptionally difficult.”
“Is that all it is?” I countered, my modern, shameless confidence refusing to let me flinch.
I tilted my face up, my lips mere millimeters from his jawline.
I could feel the radiating heat of his skin, the rapid, ragged rise and fall of his broad chest against his leather breastplate.
“Just a difficult job?”
“You know it isn’t,” he growled.
The air between us snapped, thick with a suffocating, heavy current of pure, unadulterated lust.
His silver eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering there with a desperate, heavy hunger that made my pulse run wild.
His left hand twitched, rising slightly as if he were going to grip my waist, pull me over the desk, and completely ruin the flawless discipline he prided himself on.
I held my breath, waiting for the impact.
I wanted to see exactly what happened when the strongest knight in the realm finally lost his mind.
But just as his fingers brushed the crimson fabric of my riding habit, the heavy iron gears of his military training kicked back in.
Kaelen let out a harsh, strangled breath, violently tearing himself away from the desk.
He stumbled back two paces, his boots slamming against the stone floor as he forced his posture into a rigid, military salute.
His chest was heaving, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his broadsword to steady his trembling hands.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he muttered, his voice thick, rough, and entirely wrecked.
He refused to look me in the eye, staring rigidly at the wall behind me.
“I…
crossed a line.
It will not happen again.”
I sat back slowly, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.
A breathless, victorious smile tugged at the corner of my lips, even as my body practically screamed at the sudden loss of his proximity.
Oh, it is absolutely going to happen again, I thought, smoothing down the front of my dress.
And next time, you won’t pull away.
“Calm yourself, Sir Kaelen,” I said, forcing my voice to return to a smooth, regal calm.
“Your concern for my safety is noted.
But Lord Alistair is a calculated risk.
If I want to survive the winter, I need allies who have actual honor, not sycophants like Cedric.”
Kaelen swallowed hard, his jaw tight as he finally forced his silver gaze back to mine.
The raw hunger was buried deep beneath a wall of icy composure, but the embers were still burning.
“Duke Cedric will not take this humiliation lightly, Your Majesty.
By restoring Alistair’s lands, you have effectively cut off the Duke’s financial stranglehold on the western border.
He will strike back.
Soon.”
I looked out over the sprawling capital, where the common folk were moving through the muddy streets, looking thin and exhausted.
“Cedric is a parasite.
He relies on fear and whispers.
But fear only works when people think they have something to lose.
I’m going to give the people of Solis something to fight for.”
I turned back to Kaelen, my ruby eyes flashing with a sharp, political clarity.
“Tomorrow, we begin the audit of the royal granaries.
I want to know exactly how much wheat we have stored for the winter, and I want a draft of the new tax distribution laws on my desk by noon.”
Kaelen stared at me, the deep, agonizing suspicion in his eyes flaring up once more.
He was looking at me as if I were a complete stranger—a beautiful, terrifying enigma that had completely overwritten the bloodthirsty tyrant he thought he knew.
“I will oversee the guard rotation for the obsidian suite myself,” Kaelen said quietly, stepping back toward the door.
“To ensure Lord Alistair remains…
a guest, and nothing more.”
“Thank you, Sir Kaelen,” I murmured, letting my gaze drift slowly down the length of his broad shoulders one last time.
“Dismissed.”
He gave a tight, formal bow and exited the solar, the heavy doors closing between us.
Left alone in the quiet room, I leaned against the window frame, a soft sigh escaping my lips.
The political cleanup was moving faster than I anticipated, and the pieces on the board were getting dangerous.
Duke Cedric was a viper in the grass, Lord Alistair was a wild lion newly freed from his cage, and my gorgeous personal guard was a walking powder keg of repressed desire.
I smudged a spot of dust off the glass, a wicked smirk spreading across my face.
Waking up as the villainess might be a death sentence, I thought, but God, it is definitely not boring.
Kaelen almost completely lost his grip on that strict military discipline, and Evangeline is just enjoying every single second of pushing him to his absolute limit.
But did you catch how he said he wants to make sure Alistair remains just a guest?
The possessiveness is so real!