Amir shakes his head, feigning confusion.
âIâm sorry, are you mistaken about yesterdayâs matter?â He scratches at his head, totally selling his confusion too.
Iâm fatigued, my tolerance for putting up with nonsense at an all-time low.
âWhen I heal people, I can feel their injuries briefly,â I explain without dancing around the matter. âThat was a knife wound.â
âHow are you so-â Amir asks but I cut him off.
âThat. Was. A. Knife. Wound.â Iâve experienced enough that I can discern the difference in my sleep. I would also kill for some coffee right now.
The kingdom of Aidel produces the precious coffee beans I need, but with the tentative relationship our empire still has with them, it wasnât until a few years from now that the lucrative trade of the beans begins.
.....
âDid you do it to elicit pity?â I take a chance sip of my tea, which has gone cold. âThat was a foolish ploy. You should know that in a royal family, blood is something we are acquainted with from youth.â
âEven for a princess as cherished as yourself?â
âEspecially for a princess such as myself.â I cannot bring myself to repeat his outrageous claim of myself being âcherishedâ.
âWith that said, I do appreciate your aid yesterday. You did initially prevent the griffin from consuming me as a midday snack. However, the fact that you tried to use a false injury to trick me cancels out your aid. So now, we are even.â I sadly eye the bell that lies on the table beside me, so great is my desire for a fresh cup of tea. But calling in Sage right now would bring an unwanted pair of eyes into this situation.
âYou drive a hard bargain,â Prince Amir sighs, leaning back onto the opposite sofa like heâs relaxed in his home.
âI learned from the best.â The best being Clever Jack, who manages to rob me blind every time we interact. âWant a cookie?â
âIâll pass. The food in this empire does not entirely suit my tastes,â the princeling admits, staring at the scrumptious cookies like theyâve got mold growing over them.
âTell me about it. Not enough seasoning,â I gripe. Iâd practically had a stroke when I saw that neither tacos nor tabasco sauce existed in this world. âI had to teach the chefs around here how itâs done.â
Amir sits up enthusiastically, finding a kindred spirit for food before him.
âThen you would absolutely adore the cuisine of Aidel. We have more rice dishes than can be counted, stews cooked with lamb and vegetables, stuffed grape leaves, and so much more.â Amir speaks with his hand on his chest as if he were proclaiming the holy word.
Iâve heard of all the dishes he speaks of and my mouth waters with Amirâs generous descriptions. But it all comes to a record screeching halt when I recall a very important detail.
âI am not going to marry you,â I tell Amir point-blank.
Amir smirks. âDo you even have a choice? Besides, you cannot do much better than me in terms of princes from Aidel. I can recognize your potential. Together, we could do great things.â
âWhy would I want to marry you, Amir?â I ask, shattering his pretty vision into pieces. âHave you ever sat back and asked yourself what would make you a great husband? Because from where Iâm sitting, Iâd be even more miserable in Aidel than here. And thatâs saying something.â
A vein ticks at his jaw. It seems that even the happy-go-lucky prince can get irritated.
âWith all due respect, I donât think youâre considering everything, princess,â Amir says through clenched teeth.
âHa! Believe me, I have, prince,â I counter. âYou are not born of the queen nor are you born of a favored concubine. You donât have much power gathered under you. Oh, and donât think I donât know about the two concubines you have already accepted from the daughters of ministers who support you. I could never tolerate my husband having another woman besides me. Not in this life, and not the next.â
âAny other lesser wives I take in would have to bow down their heads before you,â Amir says, completely glossing over my complaint.
âWhatâs not clicking? I mean- what do you not comprehend? I will not be the woman you marry. And if you try to take me with you across the Moor, I will personally see to it that you lose the throne to Rasoul.â
Throwing up the name of the most popular candidate for the Aidelish successor, the legitimate son of the queen, most definitely rankles the foreign prince.
Amir sits in stony silence and I canât help but add, âWe get rumors on our side of the pond as well. Do you think Iâd be foolish enough to meet a potential groom without doing research? To be quite frank, you do not meet my standards. Go ahead and try to marry my sister or some noblewoman. Iâd be happy to help you choose a good one. But not me. Never me.â
âYou strike true with your words,â Amir eventually says.
âI would apologize, but I am not sorry. I would be more than happy to be your friend, however. I believe that if we cooperated as partners, there is much we could accomplish,â I propose, throwing in one final blow called the friendzone.
I mean every word. If Amir and I were the first to open up a trade route for coffee beans, I would become an incredibly rich woman on top of the small fortune I am already beginning to accrue for myself. And I would finally have a solution for my insomnia-induced tiredness.
âYou dare to call me weak.â That stubborn thing called male pride cannot help but lash out after the beating it just took. The irritating grin becomes a relic of history as the Aidelish prince finally resembles someone caught within the bitter struggle for power. I would know, Iâve seen the same expression on my face countless times.
âAnd the true Prince Amir finally joins us.â I give him a slow clap, happy to have riled him up after the way he toyed around with me yesterday.
âYou truly think you could stop me if I were to request the emperor for your hand in marriage?â A dark grin that looks out of place on a teenage boyâs face carves itself across Amirâs face. I must admit though, it suits him far more than the sunny smile heâs been sporting ever since I met him.
âMy friend, you saw the chaos I was able to cause in the forest all by myself. What kind of madness do you think I will be able to cook up in your home country? Would you be able to forgive yourself if you indirectly became the cause of Aidelâs demise?â I propose instead.
Iâve flirted with it, my appetite for destruction. I curb the hunger, toeing the line with whatever remains of the morals Iâve acquired from my past life. But being dragged screaming and crying to another country would most certainly send me careening over the edge.
Iâm even afraid of what I would do in such a situation.
âYou dare speak of such things?!â This time Amirâs fury cannot be contained and he smacks the coffee table before him, causing the cookies to jump. I wag my finger at him like heâs a naughty puppy.
âYou are too easy to rile up,â I scold Amir. âA king whose emotions can be read like a book does not tend to hold onto a throne for long if he even makes it there.â
I almost feel like Iâm scolding Augustus, my older brother, rather than Amir.
Amir sucks in a deep breath, retracting his hand. âMy... apologies, princess.â
I smile, not intending to take the matter further. âNot quite what you were expecting when you scheduled for us to meet, hm?â
âNot at all. You are brilliant, Winter.â Amirâs eyes shine reverently, the flint in his words gone as if they were never there. Despite his slip in emotions, Amir is a professional at disguising his true feelings.
âNo, you are. The only reason I could see through you is because Iâm just like you, fighting tooth and nail for a place in this family. But that also means that my father can see right through you, so be careful,â I warn.
âYouâd give me advice?â Amir looks surprised.
I shrug. âI said we would be partners, didnât I? You could probably use an ally across the Moor.â
Amir suddenly stands up from the sofa, walking around the coffee table, invading my personal space within the span of a second.
âAmir?â I ask, feeling like Iâm about to get the tables turned on me.
âPrincess.â The Aidelish prince is less than a foot away from me, close enough for me to smell whatever soap heâd used that morning. âMay I thank you with a dance at my banquet tomorrow?â
âYour banquet?â I scoff. âItâs just the official welcoming ceremony for all our foreign guests, which extends far beyond you and your kingdom.â
âBut Iâm the only royalty present, arenât I?â Amir says with a devilish smirk. Is it weird to say I miss the overly sunny mask he was wearing? The soundtrack for Chris Hansenâs To Catch a Predator plays in my head.
His warm cheek meets my hand, but rather than a tender embrace I shove Amir away. âHow about you get out of my face first, kid?â
âKid?!â Amir slips from my sofa onto the floor in shock and I smother a giggle. âI am a few years your senior, Winter!â
I roll my eyes, after all, if he knew my true age heâd be running for the hills.
âIâll think about the dance if you go back to your seat,â I say to appease him.
âNo, Iâm quite afraid itâs time for me to leave. I do have a few other appointments today other than you,â Amir says, rising from the ground with an anticipatory look. I make a mental note to ask Emma to get some kids to tag along to whatever activities are giving the foreign prince such excitement.
âBut a word of advice, princess?â I look up, tugged away from my thoughts concerning espionage.
âHm?â I look up to see Amir paused at the door, his hand on the ornate door handle.
âSome of those people you push away in your heart may care about you more than you know.â
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