Page 22 of A Ring to Claim Her Crown
‘I am familiar with the concept of the game. Thank you.’
‘How about we make it a little more interesting, then?’ He raised one brow, mischief in his eyes. ‘You get one question for every target you hit.’
Minerva eyed up the three boards; they were hardly a far distance away. ‘You may as well just give me the answers I want to know, really.’
‘Perhaps—but my date, my rules.’
‘Get ready to lose, then.’
She stepped up to the metal stall’s edge, grabbing three darts. They were much smaller than her arrows, but weighed much the same. She stared at the oversized target, black-and-red rings with scores in each circle. A small smile graced her lips as she instinctively took her archer’s stance and sized up the distance.
‘Not taking it too seriously, I see,’ Liro murmured from her side.
She ignored him, eyes focused on her target, shoulders dropping, arm relaxing as she extended and readied. With one long movement she let her dart fly directly towards the target in a perfect smooth arc.
Only to find it hit directly to the left of where she had aimed for. She cursed aloud, cupping a hand over her mouth when she realised what she’d said.
‘It’s okay, you’ll get the hang of it with a little practice.’ Liro laughed.
She ignored his taunts; she’d had years of training through the distraction of crowds and commentary. This was a funfair darts stall, not an Olympic stadium... You could take the athlete out of the competition, but not the other way around. She turned back to the target, once again taking her stance, readying her dart and letting it fly with perfect precision. And once again at the very last moment it flew to the left.
‘Impossible.’ She turned to the young lady behind the stall. ‘This game is rigged.’
‘Excuse me?’ A man appeared from behind the stall, placing one hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. ‘Are you accusing us of practising dishonestly?’
Minerva opened her mouth to begin reciting exactly how she knew that this entire game was rigged for customer failure, only to have Liro grab her elbow and lean across her, placing a handful of bills on the counter.
‘Of course she’s not,’ he said calmly, smiling at the young girl. ‘She’s just a sore loser, that’s all.’
‘I am not—’ Minerva made to protest once more, only to have Liro’s arm pull her into his chest and deftly guide her away from the stall before she could speak another word.
They made it a few more stalls down before she swung round, pointing one finger directly in the centre of his chest. ‘Oh my God, you knew that these stalls are all rigged, didn’t you?’
‘It’s a funfair, princess, not a global tournament. They’re just trying to make a profit.’
‘Does everyone know that nobody follows the rules except for me?’ she practically shouted. ‘You had no intention of answering any of my questions, did you?’
‘Rule number one—don’t assume that everyone else is following the rules.’ He held her wrist, stopping her from moving away from him. ‘I planned on answering your questions no matter what. Once we get back to the yacht, you can have the answer to everything you can think of. But I didn’t bring you here to rehash the past. I brought you here to show you why I left. I could never live this way when I was Prince Oliveiro. I could never do what I wanted.’
‘So that’s why you left? Because you wanted to be able to go to funfairs without the paparazzi following you?’
‘You know that’s not why...’
‘I don’t know, Liro. All I do know was that your father was forcing you to marry me and so you left. I thought we were happy, that we were preparing to celebrate our engagement. And then you disappeared and I had no idea if you were alive or dead. So forgive me if eating some paella and walking through a funfair doesn’t feel quite as momentous...’
She walked away from him and was glad when he didn’t immediately follow, giving her some space to browse through a small bric-à-brac tent filled with beaded necklaces and bracelets. She had no money with her with which to buy anything; she rarely made any purchases of her own at all. If she needed something, it was purchased for her, and for some reason she had never found that fact utterly ridiculous until this very moment. She was a grown adult and she had never browsed a store without a private appointment and security team in tow.
She realised then what he was actually doing in bringing her here. He was proving his point about freedom. Perhaps she should be annoyed at him for being so heavy-handed in trying to show her that the world was so much larger than the way she lived, but instead she felt a warmth in her chest. He had been more honest with her today in bringing her here and risking her wrath than anyone else in her life. He was showing her something real, something outside of her perfectly manicured sphere.
It was a gift.
She turned around to find he had purchased an aquamarine beaded bracelet, and he held it out to her. When she struggled with the clasp, he stepped closer, clicking it into place and sliding his thumb across the delicate beads. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and for a brief moment she wished that they were just a regular man and woman out on an exciting date at the funfair.
What would that actually have been like? What would they have been like if they had met under different circumstances? Would they have been so attracted to one another? Or had their love affair only happened because it had felt like a small rebellion of sorts?
And if she took him up on his offer of closure, if she went to his bed again, wouldn’t that just be her doing the exact same thing all over again? She pulled away, walking slowly through the crowd, only to find his hand encircling her softly. This time, she didn’t pull away. She relaxed into his hold and allowed him to guide her along, exploring together.
CHAPTER EIGHT
