‘Are we interrupting something here?’ A familiar voice purrs.
‘Not at all miss Delecourt…’ Rhydien sucks in a breath through gritted teeth and straightens up. Back to his charming self, bowing curtly towards me before leading the way into the drawing room. I already miss the scent of him, the image of him craving my body imprinted in my mind. Part of me wanted to stand there and pout, having to settle for the charade of himself he’d play this evening. A true diplomat and tactician laced with charm, until he shows his hand, and you find the edges are razor sharp. It was an interesting character he played, scorned and shunned prince with no court, no army, no prosperity. It was a character he would prefer his brother to know, a character he would be perceived as until the time was right. H
