“The king seems taken with you.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, surrounded by flowering plants and singing birds up in the trees. Dad smiled at me.

“He’s not taken with me,” I said. “He’s just bored.”

“I don’t know, kid. He seems to like you.”

“What are you doing, Dad? Why do you want me to marry this guy?”

He sighed. “I don’t, honestly. It would mean a lot of changes for us.”

“Then why are you pushing it?”

“Because it could be great for you. And who knows, maybe you’d actually like the guy if you gave him a chance.”

I sighed, shaking my head. He wouldn’t be pushing this if he knew what King Asshole said to me when we were alone.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen, Dad.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I don’t feel like learning another language anyway.”

I laughed and leaned back on the bench. Lucy was off in the royal spa getting her nails done, which left me alone with Dad. We only found the courtyard at all because we stopped and asked for directions about ten times. The castle really was super confusing, but at least there were plenty of people around to help direct us.

And I kept thinking about my tour with Trip. He was so cocky and brash most of the time, but every once in a while he gave me a glimpse of something else. When he’d been talking about the library, and about his family, I had seen something underneath that cocky attitude. I didn’t know what it was, but it was definitely there.

And he didn’t seem as taken aback about the panties as I had hoped. Actually, it had only seemed to encourage him. I was going to have to think of something else to rile him up.

As we sat there enjoying the nice day, a servant appeared from around a bend.

“Miss Bryce?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Here you are. From His Majesty.”

“Thank you.” The servant bowed and left.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Dad said. “They actually bow. It’s bizarre.”

“We’re in a country with a king,” I said. “That’s weird in itself.”

“Yeah,” Dad agreed. “And their internet is way faster than ours.”

I laughed as I opened the envelope the servant had handed me. Inside was a simple piece of paper with Trip’s handwriting.

“Have dinner with me. I’ll send Al for you at eight. Your parents have other plans. Trip.”

“What’s that?” Dad asked.

“Trip wants me to have dinner with him.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Trip?”

“Yes. He insists. Anyway, do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Dad said, suppressing a smile. “Lucy and I will find something else to do. It’s not like this place is boring.”

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t want to insult the king again, you know?”

“Of course not, sweetie.” He checked his watch. “Let’s get back so you have time to get ready.”

“Okay. Thanks.” We stood up and headed back to our rooms.

It only took three different sets of directions this time before we finally made it back.

Al showed up at my room right on time. I followed him down the twisting hallways in silence, feeling nervous.

Al didn’t seem like much of a talker, and I wasn’t in the mood to chat. I felt strangely anxious about this dinner for some reason. I was wearing a decent summer dress, since it was warm in the castle, but I didn’t know what was appropriate to wear to dinner with the king.

And I didn’t know why I cared. I was just seeing Trip, who just happened to be the king. I didn’t want to impress him, and I genuinely didn’t care if I insulted him. I’d already slapped the guy in the face and caused a minor scandal; I doubted I could do worse by wearing something inappropriate.

Still, I found myself caring about how I looked around him, and that told me something about how I felt about him. I wasn’t happy about it, but I couldn’t deny the obvious. I cared about what Trip thought.

Though I shouldn’t have worried much. Trip wasn’t exactly shy about what he thought. The man seemed to basically say whatever came to mind and didn’t care if it was inappropriate or something like that.

Finally, our walk ended in front of a normal-looking door. Al knocked twice and then waited.

After a few seconds, the door opened. Trip smiled out at us. “Thanks for bringing her, Al,” he said.

“Of course, Your Highness,” he answered, and then turned and left.

Trip grinned at me. “Welcome to my corner of the castle.”

He was wearing simple black dress slacks and a white button-down shirt, the top button left open, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like he had been at a blue tie event all day but had just gotten home.

“This is your apartment?”

“Yes,” he said. “Come on in.”

Feeling a jolt of excitement, I stepped through the door and looked around.

It looked like a pretty normal apartment. I had expected a lot of fancy things, more gold and more paintings, but instead it was pretty low-key. It actually looked pretty clean and modern, almost industrial. There was a couch, a television, some chairs, a deck, a table, a kitchen area, several doors, and another hallway leading toward the back.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” I said.

“You don’t sound like you think it’s nice.”

“It’s simple. I didn’t expect that.”

He laughed, walking into the kitchen area. I followed him. “Well, you get sick of all that crap after a while. When I’m here, I’m home, so I try to leave all that royalty nonsense behind.”

“Have you always lived here?”

“More or less,” he said. “I’ve lived in other places, but when I’m in the castle, these have always been my rooms.”

He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat. He went over to the counter and opened a bottle of wine, pouring two glasses. I accepted one and sipped it as he sat down across from me.

“What’s on the menu?” I asked him. “Or are we just drinking?”

“We can just drink if you like,” he said, “but I planned on having the chef send us something up. I told him to surprise us.”

“Great,” I said. “What if I had some allergies?”

“You don’t,” he said, smiling at me. “I read your file.”

I frowned. “There’s no file.”

“Of course there’s a file. We vetted you to marry me, remember?”

I sighed. “I tried to forget.”

“There it is, you pretending not to like it again.”

“Fortunately, I don’t have to pretend like I don’t want to marry you.”

“Maybe, but you do have to pretend like you don’t want me to press you up against this castle wall and feel that dripping pussy with the tips of my fingers.”

“Do you always talk like this?”

“Only when I want something very badly.” That smile was so wicked, I had to sip my drink and cross my legs. “How would you prefer I spoke, Bryce?”

“I don’t know. How about you tell me about the rebels?”

He paused. I could tell I had surprised him there. “What about them?”

“Well, they want democracy. That can’t be a bad thing.”

He sighed. “Maybe. In your country, democracy is all well and good, but here in Starkland, we’ve had a monarchy for many hundreds of years. People don’t understand a democracy. They’re not ready for it.”

“You can teach them.”

He shrugged. “The rebels are teaching them enough.”

“They’re killing people,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed, “they are.”

“But so are you. I’ve read some bad things about your royal army.”

“So have I,” he agreed. “Not all of it is true, but some of it is. That’s the problem with a war, especially a civil war. It’s always bloody and always worse than we think it will be.”

I shook my head slowly. “It can’t be so simple for you.”

He sighed, putting down his drink. “My people are dying, Bryce. It’s not simple.”

That surprised me. There was genuine emotion in his eyes. I didn’t think he was a heartless bastard, but he did seem like a playboy who didn’t think much about suffering.

That look he gave me, though, said otherwise.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Come,” he called out, and then servants flooded the space.

I sat back and watched, completely taken aback.

Ten rolling trays were wheeled into the small kitchen, each one manned by a different server. They proceeded to take the tops off the dishes as servants placed plates and silverware around us. I sat there, basically as still as a statue, while Trip watched me, smiling. The servants were fast and efficient, and soon they began to place food in front of us.

The spread was incredible: rich soup, hearty breads, all different kinds of meats and vegetables cooked in sauces I could barely describe. Once we had plates placed in front of us, Trip stood up.

“Thank you, gentleman,” he said. “If you’ll excuse us.”

The servants bowed in unison and then disappeared.

When they were gone, Trip sat back down. I laughed, genuinely amazed, shaking my head.

“Do you do that for all the ladies?” I asked.

“Only the special ones,” he said. “Dig in. Enjoy.”

We began to eat, and I had to admit that it was incredible. Starkland wasn’t a famous country or a big country, but its food was delicious, and that was basically my main criteria for whether a country was great or not.

According to this meal, Starkland was truly a magnificent country.

“What do you think?” Trip asked after a minute of silence while we ate.

“It’s delicious,” I said honestly. “I’m finally impressed.”

“Interesting. It took food to impress you.”

“I guess I have my weaknesses.”

He smiled, nodding slowly. “Yes. I guess we all do. I can’t wait to find out a few more.”

“I have no more weaknesses,” I said.

“I doubt that very much.”

I shook my head and dug into my food. Soon we began to fall into a normal conversation. He asked me questions about what my life was like back home, and I got him to tell me funny stories about growing up in the castle.

Time slowly flowed past like that. Eventually I even forgot that I was having a meal with a king. Instead, I was just eating with Trip, some asshole I happened to know.

Except he wasn’t such a huge asshole, at least not all the time. When he told me about how he got lost as a very little boy, wandering the halls of the castle and crying, he wasn’t being an asshole. And he wasn’t an asshole when he told me about crawling around underneath banquet tables during a royal dinner, tying people’s shoes together.

It was surprisingly nice. When we finished eating, Trip hit a button on his control panel and a few minutes later some servants came and cleared away the mess. Once they were gone, he poured us more wine and we sat on his couch.

“That’s convenient,” I said to him once the last servant was gone.

“I can’t complain,” he admitted. “Being king has perks.”

“I’m sure you always had those perks.”

He grinned. “Got me there.”

“This has been nice,” I admitted, sipping my wine.

“Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“You’re not so bad when you’re not being a dick.”

He laughed, grinning at me. “That’s what I like about you, Bryce. Not afraid to speak your mind.”

“I guess you’re not used to that.”

“That’s true. Not a lot of people will say whatever they want to the king.”

“Well, you’re not my king.”

“No. Not yet at least.” He smiled dangerously at me. “But I want to be. I’d love to see you on your knees, calling me ‘Your Highness.’”

I sighed, looking away, but I felt a thrill run through me. “There it is. You had to ruin it.”

“Listen,” he said, sitting back. “I have an idea. You were saying how democracy is better than monarchy earlier, but I want to show you otherwise.”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Well, either way, I want to show you my city. I want you to see the good we do.”

I frowned. “Is it safe?”

“Of course. You’ll be with the king. It’ll be the safest you could ever be.”

“I read that there were rebels in Stehen.”

“Some maybe, but we have it under control.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

“Good. I’ll send for you tomorrow morning.”

I stood up, putting my glass down on the coffee table. “I should get going.”

“You don’t need to run off. There’s plenty more wine, and besides, I haven’t seen you in those panties yet.”

“Maybe another time.”

“You forgot to add ‘Your Highness’ at the end.”

I smiled, trying to suppress the sudden and overwhelming desire to throw myself at him.

“You’ll never hear me say that.”

“I think I will.” He stood up and stepped close to me. “And sooner than you think.”

I shook my head and quickly turned away. I walked across the room and opened the door.

“Good night, Bryce.”

I glanced back at him, at his cocky grin, at his beautiful body, his devilishly handsome face, and then left.

I had to get out of there. I could feel my willpower crumbling. Because the truth was, I did want to get on my knees in front of him, though I didn’t want to do much talking.

Trip brought the worst out in me. He made me dream of dirty things. He made my pussy dripping wet, my mouth hungry for his.

I should keep away, but I knew I wasn’t going to.