Page 75 of The Broken Prince

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Page 75 of The Broken Prince

His eyes remained on the ground.

“It’ll be alright,” I repeated, wanting to rid his heart of his pain.

His eyes lifted to mine again. “The last war was much easier, because I didn’t have as much to lose.”

My eyes dropped, knowing he was referring to Atticus and me, the two people he loved most in this world. He didn’t have to tell me how much I mattered to him to know exactly how he felt. It was unspoken and constant.

He rose to his feet and extended his hand to me.

“I think I’m just going to sit here for a while.”

“I can carry you.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’ll get up when my muscles stop screaming.”

He cracked a small smile. “I’ll make sure the cook knows to make you an extra portion of pot roast tonight.”

“Ugh, I love pot roast. It’s my favorite.”

His smile faded, but his eyes remained bright. “Mine too.” He turned away and walked off, his sword in the scabbard across his back, walking with a rigid posture like our training hadn’t exhausted him the way it exhausted me.

I lay back on the grass and looked up at the sky. Everything was sore, from my thighs to the muscles in my forearms. And I knew the place where his sword had struck me would develop into a painful bruise.

The time continued to pass, the shade becoming longer, the temperature becoming cooler. I should return to the castle so I could bathe and put on something clean, but the idea of getting up and moving…sounded terrible.

Then a face came into my view, upside down and smirking, his boots on either side of my head. “Need a hand?”

“What I need is a nap.”

He moved to my feet then extended his hand to pull me up.

I placed my palm in his, and he tugged me hard, bringing me to my feet effortlessly, despite the increased weight of my armor.

“You did well.”

“You watched?”

He gave a slight nod.

“He’s never come at me like that before.”

“He’s worried.”

“Yeah…”

“And you held your own pretty well.”

My hand went to my arm, pressing into the armor to feel the sting of the bruise. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’m not one to issue false compliments.”

“Not even if you’re trying to get a woman into bed?”

“I wouldn’t want to get her into bed if I had to give her false compliments.”

A breeze powered through, ruffling my hair as well as his. He squinted slightly as it stung his eyes. It made him scowl, and his scowl was as sexy as his smile.

“I hope you weren’t in too much trouble the other night.” He didn’t pressure me with questions, but his eyes pried into my soul.




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