Scarlet Princess: An Enemies-to-Lovers Fantasy Romance (The Lochlann Feuds Book 1)

Scarlet Princess: Chapter 22



My head was still spinning as Theo scurried toward the steps, blocking me from the soldier’s view and ordering him away. The door shut once more.

“We need to get dressed.” He stated the obvious, quickly putting on his pants and grabbing his undershirt and jacket.

“Mhmm,” I mumbled in agreement, grabbing my dress.

I was suddenly very aware of how revealing my shift was and how much skin was visible on both of us.

The tension that hung between us was palpable. The mood from only moments ago was entirely gone now, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on me while I was peacefully sleeping.

Theo did his best not to look at me as I slipped back into my dress until he had to come help me with the laces.

I was torn between wanting to step away out of embarrassment and wanting to lean back into his warmth, but he made that decision for me, putting as much distance between us as possible while he tied my laces with a perfunctory efficiency.

Clearly, he regretted the entire thing.

It was unexpectedly hurtful, even though I should have felt the same way. Especially now that we had been seen.

Once we were presentable, we walked up the small staircase back out into the open field.

The storm had been terrifying while we were in it, but it had done surprisingly little damage. I surveyed the fields, noting a few downed trees, but not much else, while I tried to ignore the judgmental looks from the guards around the ruined carriage.

Red threatened to creep up my neck and into my cheeks, but I forced it down. It wasn’t as if Theo was getting any pointed looks. Of course not.

Stars.

Iiro and Inessa stood outside of a much smaller, simpler carriage. Wonderful. Theo and I could enjoy all the awkwardness of being squashed together on one of the narrow benches.

Squaring my shoulders, I headed toward the carriage.

Theo followed just behind me, muttering something sharply in Socairan, and the men averted their eyes.

“Good morning, Sir Iiro, Lady Inessa,” I greeted, doing everything in my power to keep my voice even. “I am grateful you were both safe and that you found us.”

Even I heard how ridiculous I sounded.

Thanks for finding me making out with your brother in nothing but my undergarments after a murderous storm nearly killed us all.

Inessa refused to make eye contact, which was just as well, and Iiro only quirked a brow at his brother before we all clambered into the carriage. As I suspected, it was a family carriage, really only big enough to comfortably seat two adults and two children.

Even with my much shorter legs, Iiro’s feet were in the space for mine and Theo’s knee brushed against my leg.

Wonderful. My imminent demise at the hands of the Summit wasn’t sounding too terrible just now.

Theo and his brother went back and forth in their language for several moments until they finally decided to speak the common tongue.

I could have given them the benefit of the doubt, since it was probably easier for them to speak in their native tongue when discussing such serious matters like their losses, and next steps and whatever else needed tending to before we continued on our journey.

But I had the distinct impression that most of it had to do with whatever did or did not happen in the smuggler’s den. The furtive glances from Theo didn’t help with that assumption.

Then Iiro said something that sounded distinctly suggestive, and Theo shot him a rare warning look. My cheeks reddened again, more from anger than embarrassment this time, but I said nothing.

The conversation stilled as Iiro called out for the driver to go.

“I am happy you were found safe.” Iiro’s bland tone was impossible to decipher.

I bit back a sardonic comment about how that was funny considering we were still headed toward the Summit, opting for politeness instead.

“Thank you.” Rather than wait for another round of questions about my weather toe, I steered the conversation in another direction. “Did you sustain many losses?” My mind recalled the footman Bogdan flying through the air, and I regretted it instantly.

“Not as many as we could have, but more than we should have.” His tone was flat, and he offered nothing further on the subject.

Time dragged more slowly after that, none of us doing much of anything to further the conversation. Every jolt of the carriage sent my backside jarring against the hard wooden bench, exacerbating the aches and bruises from the storm yesterday.

Theo did his best to maintain as much physical space between us as possible on the much smaller bench, but it was impossible. I couldn’t so much as shift in my seat without my leg sliding against his.

Still, I had to wonder why he was trying so hard. Because he felt guilty for the things his people were obviously saying about me now? Or because he was ashamed of being found that way with someone from Lochlann, a criminal, me?

I told myself it didn’t matter, even if my father’s words were running on a loop in my head. Can ye not go five minutes without doing something stupid?

No, Da’. Apparently not.


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