The Cornish Princess by Tanya Anne Crosby
ChapterEleven
In the half-light of the cavern, Gwendolyn found herself pressed evenly against the damp wall, hands flat against cold, unyielding stone, with the roar of the ocean rising like a storm all around them. Prince Locrinus—Loc—placed one hand on either side of her head, right on the stone wall, and peered down at Gwendolyn with an odd glimmer in his eyes.
But then, he neither did nor said anything, and they stood together so long that icy water crept over Gwendolyn’s heels.
At long last, he said, “I have delighted in every moment of this day, dearest.” And he surprised Gwendolyn by bending to press his soft lips against her own, ever so gently, and the silky smoothness of his mouth gave her an unexpected shiver.
Gods.
She had never been with any man this way.
Gwendolyn swallowed convulsively, knowing that if he took liberties with her now, no one would fault him for it, not even her father, as there was little about their union that was negotiable, unless one meant to sacrifice the welfare of the kingdoms.
And still…
“I beg forgiveness, Princess, but you must realize… there are certain things I will not take for granted.”
An easy smile played about his lips, and his eyes grew dark as smoked honey. Suddenly, Gwendolyn felt one hand alight upon her waist and her heart tripped painfully.
“I am told this is no place to linger,” reverberated a voice throughout the cavern, the sound of it loud, commanding, and filled with censure.
Prince Loc spun about to face the intruder—Málik.
He was standing at the mouth of the cave, a dark silhouette against the bright afternoon sun, his silvery hair haloed, and his face cast in shadow.
Blood and bones!
Gwendolyn had never been so happy to see him—a truth that nettled her as much as did the fact that he had followed her here without permission.
Tidewater crept up to her ankles, lending truth to Málik’s next words. “Not even kings may command oceans.”
Instinct spoke, and Gwendolyn felt the sudden, undeniable urge to be away from this place. She slid beneath Prince Loc’s arm, moving swiftly toward Málik. Only once she neared enough to see his face outside the glare of the sun, she met his eyes before sidling past and noted the disapproval in his gaze.
How dare he judge her!
How dare he spy on her!
How dare he—
And yet, right now she was also relieved he had disobeyed her orders—a fact that upset her all the more, because while she was indescribably relieved to see him, yesterday’s unspoken accusations fell true to the mark. She should have thought better of this.
“Gwendolyn!” Prince Loc barked. Only now that she was away from him, she was furthermore embarrassed by her response. Her throat thick with emotion, she ran toward the rocky path, tripping over loose stones and bruising her knee, rushing up the incline, bewildered and ashamed—wholly uncertain how to face Loc again, or what she might say.
Even as she found her horse, and untethered her mare, even as she mounted and sped away from the Prince’s Shadows, she feared he would blame her—or at the least, feel rejected.
That wasn’t her intention at all.
Unfortunately, now that she had set upon this course, she couldn’t stop.
Giving her mare a heel, wincing over the pain in her knee, she hurried toward the safety of the city gates, only vaguely aware that Prince Loc had rejoined his guards, and Málik was mounted as well, giving chase, even now closing the distance between them.