Page 34 of This Prince Is Not Charming

I couldn’t abandon my father to become queen. He was terrified of the sentient palace and refused to set foot in it.

Besides, I didn’t have feelings for Cillian. I’d grown out of those childish emotions, and even if I hadn’t, Cillian didn’t have feelings for me. He’d likely gotten swept up in the moment, and now I was overthinking as usual.

A rustling sound came from my window, and I shot up in bed, still for only a moment before instinct kicked in. I reached under my bed to grab the club I kept in case we had an intruder. It wasn’t likely in a town that was hidden from the world, but I liked to be prepared. If someone thought they could break into my home and steal from me or my father, I’d quickly show them how wrong they were.

I held the club up, tiptoeing toward the open window, a cool breeze brushing past my face. My heart pounded to the rhythm of each step I took, the floorboards groaning under my feet. I flattened myself against the wall next to my window and stopped breathing entirely, holding the club steady, ready to whack whoever came through. It was probably just an animal, but if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t hesitate to protect our home.

A figure fell into my room, and I let out a cry and swung back the club, about to knock the intruder over the head, when Cillian rolled over, eyes wide as he held out his hands.

“Hey, it’s just me!”

I froze, club still held in the air as I stared in shock at the high prince.

“Cillian,” I hissed. “What are you doing here? I almost just clubbed you to death.”

“Not holding the club like that.” He came to a stand, a few dark strands of hair falling over his forehead, and his gaze briefly dipped to my cleavage, on full display in my little silk nightgown. “Your grip and angle are all wrong, Cerriwen.”

I scoffed. “Oh, because you know so much about clubbing people?”

“I do, actually. All against my will. You know how Wolfe is obsessed with forcing me and Nevan to train with him.” He moved behind me, and my body flushed with heat.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he moved closer, his firm chest pressing against my back.

I struggled to catch my breath as his hand glided up my arm and closed over the fist that was tightened around the handle. We didn’t touch like this. If he ever did touch me, it was always a quick brush of a finger or a hand. Maybe an arm slung around my shoulder like I was one of his brothers. This felt far too intimate, and my head was spinning so much I wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Move your grip farther up,” he commanded. His other hand went to my waist, searing me through my silk nightgown, the thin fabric not nearly enough of a barrier between us. “And adjust your hips so they’re pivoted, facing your attacker.”

“Cillian, this really isn’t necessary⁠—”

“Then you bring down the club.” He guided the club down and toward the ground. “Just like that.”

We didn’t move for a minute, just standing there with my body molded to his so that I felt far too much of him, so that I wanted to lean in more—No. No. No. No.

I cleared my throat and stepped away, turning to face him. “It’s a heavy, wooden object. I’m fairly certain that even if my grip is too low and my hips aren’t at the right angle, I’m still going to do some damage.” I hoped my airy tone didn’t betray my pounding heart, and I was glad the darkness hid my flushed cheeks.

He shot me a smile, and I realized so much of the worry, the weight I’d been seeing on him these last few days, had lifted. He looked lighter, more at ease.

I narrowed my gaze. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

He snorted. “Want to hear a bedtime story?”

* * *

We lay side by side on the roof, staring at the stars.

I turned my head. “You shouldn’t be here. It might make the other contestants jealous. There’s no point in winning a date if the high prince is just going to sneak out to see the competition.”

Cillian’s hands were folded across his stomach, his face angled toward the sky, giving me a full view of his perfectly sculpted cheekbone and jawline. “Oh, yes, you mean all the contestants clamoring to marry me? Like the cat who is only attracted to those who can lick their own balls?”

I snorted, laughter bubbling out of me.

“Or how about the woman who bursts into tears every time she looks at me? Or how about the faerie who has almost set me on fire with her hair approximately a hundred times?”

I flicked his arm. “Okay, I see your point.”

“These trials are a joke. Only I’m not getting the punchline. I don’t understand what Castle is playing at. But I guess I’m just along for the ride.” He rolled to his side, his blue eyes searing into me. “Either way, I don’t think anyone is going to lose too much sleep over me visiting you.”

“And why are you visiting me at this time of night?”