Loving the Forbidden Prince

Chapter 158  Countdown to Peace - Part 14

ETAN

Etan's breath tore in his throat as he stared at the key he'd just turned, locking himself inside with a woman who was not his wife, knowing how that might look to anyone—even knowing Borsche remained there with them. With a hurried prayer for wisdom and that he could get Sarya safely back to her own chambers without discovery, Etan turned from the door to find Sarya staring up at him. Her chin was low, but her eyes were wide and shining with hope at she stared up at him from under her lashes, her hair waving around her face, but not enough to hide the hesitant, lopsided smile she gave.

"You'll need to wait here until it's clear out there—" he started, his voice low and gruff. But he could barely finish the sentence when Sarya threw herself into his chest. Taken by surprise, Etan only just managed to turn his head in time as her mouth sought his, landing on his jaw instead. He froze in that position, turned from her, his body recoiling. Yet Sarya didn't pull away, but let her lips soften against his skin, her tongue darting out to trace the line of his jaw.

Shuddering, but pinned between her and the door, Etan slid out of her arms, wrenching himself away from her, shaking his head.

He hadn't realized how she's leaned into him. Sarya stumbled forward, coming up against the door as he stepped away to put space between them.

He wanted to open the door and throw her out of the room bodily, into the corridor, and witnesses be damned. But he knew that was unfair to her. She believed herself desired and chosen. Could he blame her for trying to bridge the gap between them before their betrothal was announced?

"I am sorry, Sarya. Deeply sorry that you had… that you felt you should… I am touched. Truly. But I did not invite you here… for this…"

Smoothing the front of her nightdress, Sarya turned slowly to face him, her eyes, large and wide, glittering out from the curtains of her dark hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft waves.

"I know it has been a difficult couple of weeks, Etan," she said, her voice brittle. "But… why would you ask for my hand if you have no desire for me? What kind of marriage can we enjoy if we do not… wish for each other?"

The words hit Etan like a punch in the stomach. "I… I know. It is not… you are a beautiful woman, Sarya. I am only… my heart needs some time, that is all."

Her eyes shuttered and Etan hated himself for the hurt it was causing her, allowing her to think he would ever wish for her, that he would desire her body—the thought of which made him want to vomit. He would have done anything to go back, then, to find a different solution so that Sarya was not caught in the crossfire of this. But he could not see any other way to keep Ayleth safe. He had to make everyone believe he was proposing to Sarya!

"I am truly sorry, Sarya. I have no desire to embarrass you or mislead you. I thought we had made an understanding," he added quietly. "I am not immune to your charms. I am only… taking caution with giving my heart away. I am certain that with time our relationship will… grow closer."

She was no longer smiling, and her hands fisted in the skirt of her dress. "If that is true… why do you smell of perfume?"

Adrenalin slammed through him, lighting up his insides. Thinking quickly, Etan shook his head, but he couldn't hold her gaze. "I do not… I embraced my mother before coming to bed. Perhaps that is what you smell?"

She blinked, then her shoulders relaxed and she shook her head, dropping her accusing gaze to look down at her own toes. "Of course," she murmured. "Of course. Yes. I am sorry for the accusation, Etan."

"Don't apologize. I am… flattered," he said honestly. "And I hope you understand, I have no wish to steal anything from you. I honor your virtue, Sarya."

She gave him a dry glance then, but only nodded her head to accept the gesture. "Thank you. I know you're an honorable man. And I am grateful for that. I always desired to admire the man that I married. I am glad that I can look forward to what the future holds for us."

"As do I, of course," Etan said by rote, the lie bitter on his tongue. His stomach twisted again and he prayed for forgiveness. That Sarya would be able to walk from this unscathed. That she would forgive him for his subterfuge. And that if she didn't… that she would find someone else to replace her feelings for him that would appreciate the strength and beauty of her heart.

He swallowed bile.

They stared at each other a moment longer, and for Etan, the moment dragged. Everything within him yearned to be away from her, and back in Ayleth's arms. But he knew she wasn't to blame for this situation. So, he forced himself to hold her gaze and bow low, realizing suddenly that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Her eyes raked down his body as he straightened. "Thank you for your understanding," he whispered. "And I admire you as well. If you don't mind, I will check that there is no one in the corridor so that you can return to your chambers. I will ask Borsche to accompany you—"

"There is no need," she said quickly. "I have a guard in the corridor, waiting to walk me back."

Etan's brows climbed. "Is he… discreet?"

She smiled. "Yes, I'm certain of it."

There was an awkward pause, then Etan nodded. "Very well, should I check the corridor for you? I do not wish to plunge you into a scandal so close to the signing of the Accord."

With another smile, Sarya stepped aside, though her eyes followed him as he returned to the door, unlocked and opened it, and leaned out to examine the hallway, listening. But apart from the man stationed along the wall further down the hall, who had to be her guard, there was no one.

"It's safe," he whispered, pulling back into the room and stepped back to open the door so she wouldn't be tempted to leap on him again.

 "Thank you, Etan. Your integrity is… admirable."

His stomach turned to lead. "Thank you, Sarya. I will see you at the Accord tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course," she grinned. Then, as she stepped past him, she put a hand to his arm, leaving it there a touch longer than was needed. "Sleep well, Etan."

"You as well," he said gruffly, nodding another bow, then closing the door behind her when she stepped into the hallway and was immediately joined by the man who'd been waiting.

She looked at him over her shoulder as they started down the hall, her eyes bright with hope.

Etan closed the door, turned the lock, then sank to the floor, his head in his hands.

He would not weep. He was not a child. And he was entirely to blame for this predicament.

He would not weep.