No, no. Why do I keep getting myself into more and more trouble? And worse, why does his face look familiar? Where have I seen him before? Where...
Oh.
I remember now.
He was that elder. The one who wanted my head cut off so badly.
He is Tyra's father!?
"Father, we have to get out of here," Tyra said, her voice tight with fear.
The light from the wall lamp beside her revealed dark bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted. For a second, I saw Christy instead of her, and the urge to go to her rose in my chest...
Nope. Nope. Not in this world. This girl almost killed me.
Her father lifted a hand, his eyes scanning the room like a predator's. I flinched and stepped back, clutching the book to my chest.
No! This is not good!
If I am caught here, there is no doubt my head will truly be off this time. What would anyone think the King's maiden was doing in the library at this hour? Think, Isabel. Think.
Tyra looked shaken, as if she wanted nothing more than to leave, but her father-damn that man-took a step closer to the shelves.
"It could be a rat," Tyra whispered, pouting at him.
Girl, yes. A rat. Exactly.
Except this man does not look pleased at all.
My heart hammered violently. With every step he took toward the shelf section, I took one back, not daring to look behind me. If I hit a shelf, this would be the end of my life on this earth.
But I did not hit wood, instead my back collided with something hard and solid.
A chest.
My breath hitched. I don't know if it was instinct, but I instantly knew who was behind me, especially when I caught the scent of clean, fresh male and peppermint.
He leaned closer and whispered near my ear, "Don't say a word."
Huh. I was melting. My feet wobbled, and at any moment now, I might fall. I held the book tightly to my chest, not knowing what to do. At this point, I was not even worried about Tyra and her father anymore. It was this man behind me, and his hot breath against my neck. Lord, help me.
"Someone is here," Tyra's father kept saying.
Behind me, the King sighed, then whispered, "Some persons love trouble."
I gulped, unsure if he was referring to me or the intruders in the library. I mean, I am also an intruder, but no intruder ever sees themselves as an intruder, if you know what I mean. Ha. God, I am so nervous, and my breathing feels out of place.
I felt the King's hand circle my waist. It was subtle, only to steady me, but I swear I swooned. The moment he walked away, I grabbed the shelf for support.
"What are you doing here, Richard?" His voice had turned cold.
I blinked and peeked through the shelf. The King had walked up to them. Tyra now looked even more shaken, staring at her father for help. Her father bowed slightly, but he met the King's gaze.
"Forgive me. I did not know it was you."
The King circled them and went to his desk. He sat with his hands crossed, staring intently at her father. "Well, leave," he said, motioning toward the door.
"Father, we should go," Tyra reached for him, holding his hand, but he waved it off, sending daggers at the King.
Damn. He must have some nerves.
"I heard you will find someone else instead of Tyra," he began.
"Father...."
He raised a hand, halting her. "You and Tyra have been promised since you were children."
Tyra bowed her head, clasping her hands together.
"She stayed as your concubine all these years," the man tsked. "Such a low place to fix her." He shook his head, crossing his arms. "We waited for you to get to know each other, and now you want to marry someone else."
If those words affected the King, he did not show it. He merely raised a brow. "Richard, you made that decision with my father. That is solely your problem."
I felt my breath hitch, and Tyra's head whipped toward the King. Tears streamed down her face. She shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice cracked. "How can you say that, Your Majesty?"
The King gave her a raised brow, clearly unaffected by her tears.
"Tyra is yours," her father said firmly. "Do nothing to cause disruption."
He walked to his daughter and grabbed her hand, dragging her outside even as she resisted. She kept staring at the King, protest burning in her eyes. The sight made me look away, and a sigh of relief escaped me when the door finally closed.
I leaned against the shelf, closing my eyes.
What just happened? Were they already betrothed at such a young age? Was it against the King's will?
"A girl who knows my name and disobeys my order."
I jumped, turning to find the King leaning against a shelf. He wore his royal robe loose, barely covering his chest. My mouth parted as I stared at his tanned skin in awe. I was practically drooling.
He took a step forward, and I took one back.
"What are you doing here, Isabel?" The way he always drawled my name… damn. Why did it sound so sinful?
"I…" I gulped hard. "I came to apologize."
He paused when he reached me, and honestly, I couldn't even step back. His presence was intoxicating, dangerous, and addictive, like a drug I knew I should avoid but couldn't resist. I stayed rooted, not when his clean male scent wrapped around my senses, stealing my breath.
The King watched me, his eyes giving nothing away. Then his gaze dropped to my chest, lingered for a moment, and his lips curved. It wasn't exactly a smile, but it was far better than him being angry.
Wait… my chest? I barely even have breasts, and the maiden dress covered everything. What the hell was he looking at...
"What do you have there?"
Damn. Damn it. The damned book.
I had forgotten to drop it, and now it lay exposed in front of him. I hadn't covered it properly, and the intimate front page stared right back at him.
"I… I…" I clamped my mouth shut. What do I even say?
He took the book, his long fingers brushing mine, and a jolt of electricity shot straight to my stomach, releasing a storm of butterflies.
"Do you know what it means if you are caught reading?" he asked calmly. "As a maid?"
He raised a brow, then glanced at the cover again. "Interesting," he murmured. "This is your pick?"
"Well… I…" How do I even invent this lie? Can a liar get help from the universe right now? How do I tell the King I came to read for him, but he caught the book I picked? I can't say that. He'll think I want to read erotic to him. Ah!
"Do you believe in romance?"
He turned the book around and looked at me with interest, as if my answer mattered. My opinion, perhaps. Though I doubted a man who wrote poems about a woman didn't believe in romance.
"Well… I…" Technically, all I've ever done in my life is work. It got so bad that even my ex-boyfriend dumped me. His words still echoed in my head. You work and barely have time for us. I don't think this will work out.
We didn't even date for a year, so maybe I wasn't hopelessly romantic. Maybe I was just hopelessly devoted to work.
When I said nothing, the King nodded and looked back at the book.
"I do," he said quietly. "Not just in happy endings."
Huh? Did he just?
He began walking toward his desk, and I got so hooked on the conversation that I followed him. Damn, I wanted to know more. What if this links to Maryann?
"Books are way more exaggerated," he tsked.
"Is it?" I asked, walking behind him.
He stopped and dropped the book on the table between the couch and the armrest. Again, he took the armrest and pointed at the couch. I did as he wanted and sat down, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't.
"Do you not believe in love or in happy endings?" I asked instead.
"Happy endings," he repeated, drumming his fingers on the chair, his eyes fixed on me.
"These books are written to make the reader feel good, but the romance is far more exaggerated."
Huh, is that the reason he keeps books on science and agriculture? Then why are there romance books if he....wait.
"Do they make you feel good?" I asked, pointing at the book.
He raised a brow but relaxed into the chair.
When he looked at me this time, his gaze went so deep I feared he would see my racing heart.
"Do they make you feel good, Isabel?"
Huh. Why was he throwing my question back at me? I pouted at him, and he gave me that look that clearly said, I am the King. I can choose not to answer anything, and I can ask you anything.
"Do they?" he repeated slowly.
With the way he said it, I felt my legs wobble. Thank the heavens I was seated. But that wasn't all. I felt a jolt rush through me, racing straight to my stomach. This was not good. He only asked an adult question, and I was already weak in the knees.
"Read it."
Ehh?
My eyes bugged as I blinked at him. He wants me to read this intimate-looking book? What if I open the page and it drags me straight into a sex scene? Yes, I admit I wanted to read for him, but it was meant to ease his mind, not… intimacy. Oh God. No. No.
He watched me for a while, waiting for me to take the book, but I didn't. I only gave him a look of protest.
His lips curved. Huh. Is this his punishment? I knew when he asked me to go, he was already planning something.
King Harry took the book, his long fingers running over the front page. It was a single action, but it felt far too intimate, so much that the very inside of my feminine core decided to ache.
Slowly, he opened a page and skimmed through it before handing the book back to me.
"Here," he motioned. "Read this part."