Lemon was Thalia’s favorite flavor.
Bastien could almost smell the scents as he thought back to that day.
In attendance with a woman he’d been screwing around with, Bastien was having a miserable time. Truthfully, he hadn’t been right in the head since the “almost” kiss during his horse ride with Thalia a few days prior.
He’d become obsessed with it, and while he’d wanted her before, now it went beyond all reason.
It was ludicrous to even let his mind go there. He was of the warrior caste. She was a royal. While he and his father were well respected and even treated as family, it was still tradition that royals married royals. It galled him that Baynor Sorin would be attending the party and most likely proposing to Thalia.
Bastien’s date—a member of the maiorn caste whose father owned the largest bank in Kestevayne—chattered on about all the gowns on the women in attendance, trying to draw him into commentary. He didn’t give two fucks about fashion.
That was… until Thalia walked into the ballroom with her parents. Her strapless silver gown had a plunging neckline and hugged every curve, starting at her breasts and continuing down her thighs where it dropped into loose folds that swished around her ankles. He’d never seen Thalia wear something so revealing before, but he supposed that’s what happened when a young girl became a woman.
Of course, he’d felt the fullness of those breasts as they pressed against him the other day, so he knew that although she’d been a few days away from adulthood, she was every bit a woman then.
Chestnut locks artfully curled on top of her head with loose tendrils that framed her lovely face. She wore no makeup other than something on her lips to make them shine, which distracted him greatly. She was stunning in her own right without the need for the colors on her face that were all the rage in those days.
Bastien’s chest tightened as Baynor Sorin approached Thalia. He bowed slightly, made a request to which she nodded with a coy smile, and she walked with him to the dance floor.
“… blow this party and go have some fun of our own?” Magdalene whispered in Bastien’s ear, lightly running her tongue along the edge.
Startled, Bastien involuntarily jerked his head back. “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”
Gliding her fingertip from his chin down his neck, she murmured, “I said, how about we blow this party and go make some fun of our own?”
Bastien glanced back at Thalia dancing with Sorin and noted the young prince’s hands were appropriately placed, so he wouldn’t have to kill him anytime soon.
“Bastien,” Magdalene pouted. “Pay attention to me.”
Reluctantly, he turned to his date. She was beautiful and adventurous in bed, but that’s all she was. Casual sex had never been taboo in their land, and Bastien hadn’t wanted anything more than that.
Until now.
Now all he could think about was Thalia—and figuring out how to stop her from marrying the prince of Croyden.
Taking Magdalene’s hand, he led her out of the ballroom. She giggled and followed along easily. They journeyed down a long hallway, and Bastien chose a small empty sitting room.
Once inside, he closed the door and immediately had to fend her off as she launched herself into his arms.
He held her back and shook his head. “My regrets, but I can’t continue to be your escort tonight. I’ll be glad to take you home or you can stay for the party, but what we’ve had going…” Bastien released her wrists. “It’s at an end now.”
Magdalene appraised him coolly. “You know, you have to give up your crush on the princess, Bastien. It’s never going to work out.”
He wanted to pretend he had no clue what Magdalene was talking about, but he couldn’t. He was breaking things off with her right now because all he cared about was Thalia, and he couldn’t be with someone else, even if it was just casual.
Still, he had no intention of sharing his innermost feelings with this woman, who was truly not much more than a casual acquaintance he met up with periodically.
“Thalia and I are just friends, Magdalene.” It was the sad truth. “In fact, I believe she’ll have a marriage proposal before evening’s end.”
Magdalene’s laugh was light, amused, not at all bitter. She moved toward Bastien and patted his chest affectionately. “You’re more than friends, and you know it. I sincerely hope things work out for you, but if they don’t, you know where to find me.”
And with that, Magdalene sauntered out of the sitting room, leaving Bastien relieved at her easy capitulation. It was not his intent to hurt her feelings, but it appeared she was no more invested in him than he was in her.
Still, it was with a heavy heart he returned to the ballroom. As son to the commandant of the army, he was expected to attend, but even if he wasn’t, it was Thalia’s birthday. He would paste on a smile and celebrate with her because she was his closest friend, and he adored her. He’d smile even if that asshole Sorin proposed and she accepted.