Layle

The question catches me off guard, and I blink, my composure slipping for just a moment. “I beg your pardon?”

“This,” he gestures to my uncharacteristically smiley demeanor. “It’s not like you. What’s the game here?”

I force a smile, my cheeks aching with the effort. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Lord Tiernan.”

He scoffs, his eyes raking over my demure appearance. “You’re not going to attract anyone like that. You look about as comfortable as a cat in a bath.”

Is he serious right now? I bristle, my eyes narrowing. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Tiernan. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

I try to step around him, my eyes scanning for potential suitors, but he lightly grasps my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Not so fast, Princess. I’m curious. Why the sudden interest in finding a husband? The past few Seasons, you’ve had zero interest in this old tradition.”

I sigh, realizing he’s not about to let this go. “It’s not sudden, Tiernan. It’s my duty, my responsibility as the heir to the throne.”

He raises a dark eyebrow, unconvinced. “Duty? Since when have you cared about duty? The Layle I know would rather eat her own shoe than be forced into an arranged marriage.”

My teeth grind together. I hate how well he knows me. “Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I’ve realized the importance of securing the future of our kingdom.”

Tiernan leans in, his voice low and probing. “Or maybe your father has something to do with this sudden change of heart.”

I jerk my arm out of his grasp, my temper flaring. “That’s none of your business, Tiernan. My reasons are my own, and I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Tiernan’s lips curve into a condescending smile, and my blood starts to boil. “Ah, I see. So you’re playing the part of the perfect little princess, hoping to snare some unsuspecting nobleman.”

“I’m not playing anything,” I snap, my temper getting the better of me. “This is my duty, my responsibility. Not that you’d understand anything about that.”

He chuckles, the sound getting on my damn nerves. “Oh, I understand duty, Layle. I just never thought I’d see you bend to anyone’s will, especially your father’s.”

I take a step closer, my eyes flashing with barely contained anger. I don’t even care if other people are watching us. He’s pissed me off enough. Who is he to question me and my motivations? It’s none of his business, and I don’t owe him any honesty.

“I’m doing what I have to do to secure my birthright. And if that means playing nice with a bunch of preening peacocks for a few weeks, then so be it.”

Tiernan raises his hands in mock surrender, that infuriating smile still playing on his lips. “Easy there, Princess. I meant no offense. I just find it amusing to see you so. . . domesticated.”

“Domesticated?” I seethe, my voice rising despite my best efforts to keep it in check. “I am not some tamed house cat, Tiernan. I am a lion, and you’d do well to remember that.”

He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten, Layle. Beneath all that silk and lace, you’re still the wild, untameable creature you’ve always been. No husband is going to change that.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I jerk away. “You’d do well to remember who you are speaking to, Lord Tiernan,” I say icily. “I am a princess, and I deserve to be spoken to appropriately.”

He chuckles, the sound low and infuriating, and he sketches a low, mocking bow. “My apologies, Your Highness. I forgot how delicate your sensibilities are.”

My patience is wearing ridiculously thin. “Enough, Tiernan. I don’t have time for your games. If you must know, my father has made it clear that if I don’t find a suitable husband this Season, I will lose my claim to the throne. The Moorgrave line will end with him.”

I expect him to scoff, to make some snide remark about the absurdity of it all. But instead, his eyes widen, a flicker of something I can’t quite name passing over his features.

“He’s forcing you to marry?” Tiernan asks, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

A bitter smile twists my lips as I nod. “Yes. So you see, I don’t have a choice. Soon, I’ll be married, and you’ll never see me at the Season again.”

I wait for the satisfaction of seeing my words land, for the petty thrill of knowing I’ve thrown him off balance. But Tiernan’s reaction is not what I expect.

He stands there, his brow furrowed, his gaze distant as if he’s working through some complex problem in his mind. And then, slowly, a look of realization dawns on his face.

He murmurs something unintelligible, almost to himself.

I frown, confused by his words. “What did you say?”

He shakes his head, seeming to come back to himself. “Nothing. It’s just. . . I never thought your father would stoop to this. To use your future as a bargaining chip.”

I bristle, not wanting his pity. “It’s the way things are done, Tiernan. It’s my duty as the princess to secure the future of our kingdom through marriage.”

“But at what cost?” he presses, his eyes searching mine. “Is a crown really worth sacrificing your freedom, your chance at real love and companionship?”

I look away, unable to hold his gaze. “I don’t have the luxury of such romantic notions, Tiernan. This is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I will play it to the best of my ability.”

He’s silent for a long moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft, almost gentle. “You deserve better than this, Layle.”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. “What I deserve doesn’t matter. All that matters is doing what is best for the kingdom.”

Tiernan nods his head and a bit of an awkward silence descends upon us. I’m about ready to make my excuses and leave when Tiernan speaks up.

“You know, Princess,” he says, a wry smile tugging at his lips, an almost playful glint in his eyes, “for someone so determined to find a husband, you’re doing a rather poor job of it. Have you considered softening your smile? Right now you look like someone is forcing your lips apart.”

I blink, surprised by the teasing lilt in his voice. I should be angry at his criticism, but I’m finding it hard to feel anything but amusement. He’s probably right with how much my cheeks hurt.

“I’ll have you know I can be quite charming when I want to be,” I retort, but there’s no real heat in my words.

Tiernan raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Oh? And when exactly do you want to be? I don’t think I’ve seen evidence of this charm in, oh, the last seven years or so.”

A reluctant laugh bubbles up in my throat. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a mock bow. “It’s part of my charm.”

For a moment, I can see why so many ladies swoon over Tiernan Northgard. He can be quite agreeable when he wants to be. It’s disarming, and I find myself relaxing despite my better judgment, ignoring the fact that our families despise each other.

“I didn’t know you still had it in you to be anything but insufferable,” I say, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.

Tiernan’s blue eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’m full of surprises, Princess. You should know that by now.”

I shake my head, marveling at this unexpected side of him. “I suppose I should.”

For a brief moment, the weight of my father’s ultimatum lifts from my shoulders, and I allow myself to enjoy this lighthearted exchange. It’s a welcome respite from the pressure and expectations that have been suffocating me.

But as quickly as it appears, the moment passes, and I remember why I’m here, what’s at stake. I straighten my shoulders, trying to regain my composure.

“We’re not so different, you and I,” Tiernan points out before I have the chance to leave.

I blink, confusion furrowing my brow. “What do you mean by that?”

He chuckles, the sound surprisingly warm. “Let’s just say I understand the weight of expectations better than you might think.”

What does he mean by that? I lean in, curious to hear more.

“Tiernan, I—”

But before I can finish my thought, he cuts me off with a statement that leaves me utterly dumbfounded.

“Marry me, Layle.”

I freeze, certain I must have misheard him. “I. . . what?”

Tiernan’s face is completely serious, his blue eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat.

“You heard me,” he says, his voice low and steady. “Marry me.”

I gape at him, my mind reeling. Is this some kind of joke? Another one of his games. But the look in his eyes tells me he’s deadly serious.

“Have you lost your mind?” I finally manage to sputter. “You can’t possibly be—”

But the rest of my words die on my lips as I see the resolve in his gaze. He means it. Tiernan Northgard, my longtime rival and yearly thorn in my side, is actually proposing marriage.

And I have absolutely no idea how to respond.