We make our way to the smaller of the two palace ballrooms in silence, my hand in his.

This is idiotic, I think. He might have been a decent dance partner. We might have even shared something of a moment at our wedding. But to think this might be our common ground… I doubt it. We can’t be together for five seconds without arguing, and I’m sure the moment he opens his mouth on the dance floor, we’ll only be fighting while trying to remember the steps to a waltz.

I’m not sure what he’s thinking, and it certainly doesn’t sound like fun. But if I give him his one dance, hopefully he’ll take me up on my offer to occupy a separate suite. He certainly seems amenable to the idea—perhaps more than I’d hoped he would have been. But if he wants me in my own room, so be it. I’ll be more than happy to do that for him. It will make things all the better for us—help the time pass more amicably, at least.

It takes a moment to find the lights to the ballroom—the smaller of the two is rarely used, and the electrical system hasn’t been upgraded in some time. I search in the darkness for the switch and finally find it near the corner. As soon as I turn the switch, the antique chandeliers above us give off a warm glow.

“You probably will have to play the music on your phone.” I glance at the doorway where William still stands. “This ballroom doesn’t have a sound system. When it’s used, we usually have a string quartet or a pianist playing music.”

He says nothing—he just stares at me.

“What is it?” I feel my brow furrow, and I wonder if I have something on my face.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. You’re just… You’re lovely.”

I arch a brow. “Thanks.” I make a sweeping motion with my arm, inviting him into the room. “Are you going to come in? Or are you going to drag this out all night?”

He smiles, but it isn’t his usual grin. He strides to me in only a few steps. “I have to say, I don’t think I’d mind dragging this out a while. If you wouldn’t mind, of course.”

“I do mind, though, Your Highness. It’s the only reason I agreed to this.”

He nods, but his smile never falls. “Very well. Perhaps we can make this game more interesting, then.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and begins tapping at it, likely looking for an appropriate musical piece.

“I thought we agreed the game was over, Your Highness.”

He looks up at me with another grin. “I never said anything of the sort, Princess.”

I want so badly to roll my eyes, but I refrain. “I agreed to your dance to avoid playing your games, Your Highness.”

He sets his phone down on a ledge on the wall, tapping at it before he walks over to me, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

I give him a small nod and allow him to take my hand. The music begins almost as if it’s on cue, and William pulls me into his arms.

We glide around the dance floor a few times before he begins to speak. “You’re really a very good dancer.”

“You aren’t bad yourself.” If I’m being honest, he might be the best dancer I’ve been with, though I’d never tell him that. His ego is large enough as it stands.

“You flatter me, Princess.” He grins down at me.

I’m not certain what it is—perhaps it’s the way we’re moving together in time almost effortlessly, or perhaps it’s the dim lighting. Whatever it is, the way he’s looking at me is doing something…strange to me. It’s sending some odd sensation through my body, and I’m hyperaware of where his hand rests on my back. It’s almost like it was at our wedding, but something has changed. It’s as though I could see us dancing like this for the rest of our lives.

Of course, that’s impossible. We have only ninety-seven days left of this marriage, and that is more than enough. If I can somehow manage to make it through the next ten days, I think maybe I can learn to tolerate him enough that I won’t murder him myself before my three months of torture are up.

He spins me around, challenging me to keep up with him. He has to know after the last dance we shared that I can meet him step for step. He changes directions unexpectedly and I move my feet in time, reading the slightest change in his body before he even moves.

“I keep thinking I’ll surprise you, Princess.”

“There isn’t much that surprises me any longer, Your Highness.”

“Our betrothal surprised you.” His grin falls almost immediately as he realizes what he’s said. “That is to say—”

“I know what you’re saying.” I don’t frown, but I don’t smile, either. “I should tell you, though, Your Highness, that I do not like surprises.”

“Everyone likes surprises.” The corners of his lips twitch like they’re going to turn up into a grin, but they don’t. “Perhaps not the type of surprise I gave to you. But certainly some types of surprises.”

“Not me—”

“Not even presents? You can truly say you don’t like receiving a gift?” He changes directions suddenly, obviously trying to throw me off guard between the movement and his non-stop questioning.

“No, not even presents. I’d prefer no surprises, ever.” I turn as I feel his body start to move in the next direction.

He shakes his head. “I keep trying to throw you off and nothing seems to work.”

“What is the point of throwing me off, Your Highness? To make yourself laugh?” He performs another similar move, but I sense what he’s going to do before he does it.

“Certainly. But perhaps you would also laugh.”

“You think I would laugh if I fell on my face?” I look up at him, even as he tries again to throw me off my rhythm. “Why would you think that would be funny?”

“I wouldn’t think it funny if you fell. I would be there to catch you.”

I sigh. “You make no sense, Your Highness. First you want to laugh at me for falling, then you want to catch me. I wish I knew what it was you wanted.”

He smiles down at me, but it isn’t his usual grin. “I want you to be my wife.”

“I’m already your wife, whether either of us likes it or not.”

“Ah, but that’s just it, Princess. I want us both to like it.”

The music ends, and I pull away from him. I smooth my dress down as I look up at him. “I gave you what I promised.”

“You did at that.” The small smile still plays on his lips, and I find myself wanting to know what it is he’s thinking behind it.

But I catch myself before I say something I might regret. “I’ll let you find your way back to the suite. I’ll find suitable guest quarters for myself. One of the maids can bring me my night clothes and something to wear for tomorrow.”

He stares at me for a moment, the smile falling away from his lips. “Is that really what you wish?”

No that is not really what I wish. But I glare at him instead of saying it. “It’s what you wish.”

“I don’t actually recall saying those particular words, Princess.”

My gaze narrows. “You said you wouldn’t be sleeping on the sofa again. And that is fine by me. You may have the bed. There are a dozen other rooms in the same wing—”

“I don’t…” He lets out a huff of what sounds like exasperation. “This is not what I meant when I said I wouldn’t be sleeping on the sofa again, Princess.”

I say nothing, just continue glaring at him. Of course I know he didn’t mean that—he wants us to share a bed. But I don’t trust him. He thinks me a liar, and he’s already humiliated me more than I ever should have allowed him. There is no common ground between us. We can dance together, certainly, and we can find something in common on the dance floor, but that isn’t something we can build a relationship upon. We can barely stand to be in the same room together. How am I supposed to stand being married to him for another three months?

“We could… We could try—”

“Sleeping in the same bed?” I scoff. “I don’t think so, Your Highness. After the last two nights—”

“Yes, but I do believe we could say we are even after these last two nights, Princess.” His cheeks flush a color of pink I can’t even name. “Believe me, I do wish last night had gone a bit differently—”

“As I wish our wedding night had.” I narrow my gaze. “This clearly isn’t going to work, Your Highness. We can’t even say ten words to the other—”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t speak any longer, Princess.”

I lift a brow. “You want us not to speak for the rest of our marriage? I think I could be amenable to that—”

I don’t even finish my sentence before his lips press against mine, sending a bolt of electricity racing to every nerve ending in my body. My lips part despite my best effort and within another moment, his tongue is sliding against mine. His arms are looped around my waist, pulling me impossibly close to him.

I’m not sure what comes over me, but I grab the front of his shirt and pull him toward me.

And I kiss him back.