Page 90 of Stolen Princess

“It’s a massive, flawless emerald.”

Her eyes close slowly, and she drops the side of her face to my chest.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared of all of this. I mean, there’s a part of me that’s excited and anxious to know more about who I really am and meet a family I don’t remember. But there are so many other things to that. My mother, who isn’t my mother, and what happens to her with all of this? What happens to me? Am I supposed to simply move to a palace and have this become my life? It seems… fantastical. I’m not the sort of girl who comes from flawless emeralds.”

“What sort of girl do you want to be?”

Her chin meets my sternum, and I toss an arm back behind my head. I brush the strands of her hair back from her face so I can see her better. Fuck my life, she’s so pretty.

“Normal. The sort of girl who opens a restaurant or bakery. Who gets married and has kids. But at the same time, I also want adventure. I want to see the world and do wild, exotic things. Can someone have both?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Someone who may be a princess?”

“You’ll have the money to do it. You can do anything now. And if you get your tiara back, which I’m working on because I want you to have it as you should, you’ll have that protection.”

She frowns. “Do you believe in the curse?”

“Yes and no,” I tell her honestly. “I didn’t grow up here. I’m not a Messalinian citizen. But it’s part of the fabric and culture of your country, and with that, when you hear it enough and read the history associated with it, it’s almost impossible not to believe in it a little.”

She blinks at me. “If that’s the case, then my life is in even more danger.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “With every curse, there’s something that can break it. Maybe getting you home where you belong and getting that tiara back are the curse breakers. They said when King Sebastian married Bellamy, a commoner, an American, that their love broke it, but who honestly knows?”

“I almost wish you could take me with you to your island.” Her voice is lost and a little despondent, and with it, my heart aches. It’s not me she wants for that. It’s the escape. It’s the uncertainty and anxiety that’s driving that sentiment.

“Wanna trade?” I tease. “Think of all the jewels I’d have access to.”

She smacks my shoulder, a light laugh on her lips.

“Incidentally, I believe the necklace is part of your family’s heirlooms.”

“Consider it payment for taking me out of that house and saving my life.”

“Not for taking your virginity, though?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling again, and that’s all I wanted. Her smile. Her safety. Her having the life she should have always had. The wild, tragic desperation I saw when I first met her is gone, and it’s been easier to breathe because of it. She’s not like my mother, and I should have known that from the start.

My mother never knew how to function in the world. Desta never had the opportunity to try. All the resentment and anger and hatred, the pillars of the very foundation I’ve built myself on since the moment my father left and my mother took her life, are crumbling. Looking at her, feeling the same rush I’ve had every time I do, I have no desire to rebuild them.

I never knew someone could change the course of my being, let alone do it this quickly, but she has. It isn’t just my dick she has an effect on, though with her on top of me like this, that can’t be discounted either.

“You’re the first virgin I’ve ever been with.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? How many other women have there been?”

“I don’t know. I don’t count. I’m not that sort of asshole.”

“A lot?” she presses, and there’s an undercurrent to her voice. Color rises up her cheeks, and it makes me inwardly grin. My girl’s jealous.

“Hundreds likely.”

She gasps, and I laugh, earning myself another smack to my shoulder. I arch up and kiss the tip of her nose, followed by the corner of her lips. “Not hundreds. Nowhere close to that. I haven’t counted, and I haven’t kept track. They were women. None of them was particularly memorable, even the girl who took my virginity.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

“You’re not one of those. You’re the one I’ll compare everyone else to.”