Cordray held up his hands, as if that was the measure of masculine attractiveness. It was his first day without gloves, and he was loving the freedom. Every little brush of his fingers against Rory’s was a heightened sensation that almost made him choke up with how long he’d waited to feel anyone’s skin. Rory was soft, delicate, and the best reward for going twenty-nine years of hardly touching anyone. She was preoccupied, though, when he thought she’d be celebrating his newfound freedom. He loved the feel of Rory’s silky skin, and longed for her to finish up with the workload, so he could take her out to lunch.
He’d been waiting in his car at noon in the parking lot to take her to lunch, as he’d done every day that week, but she was running late. She buzzed him up, taking the first baby step at letting him into her world via her office.
Of course, no one paid much attention, as she had meetings scheduled on and off all throughout the day all the time. But still, their eyes danced at each other with the thrill of secrecy as he took the seat across from her at her desk, waiting patiently while she finished up a call from a contractor.
The moment she hung up, her phone rang again. “I’m so sorry, Cord. It’s been nonstop today.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
“I’ve got to take this call. Would you mind waiting in here for a few minutes?”
Cordray studied her squirrely movements, and then nodded. “No problem. Take your time.” His eyes flicked to the phone’s screen, reading her Caller ID. “Who’s ‘Arrogant Prat’?”
Rory held the phone to her chest, as if that might undo his memory of who was calling. “No one you’ll ever have to meet, fortunately. Not a good guy. I’ll be right back.”
Cordray’s eyebrows pulled together. His first instinct was to follow her to see what shady characters were calling her, but he knew that wouldn’t make for a great show of trust. Still, he sat on the edge of his seat, anxious for her to return.
When Rory moved quickly through the office toward the empty breakroom, she kept the conversation quiet. “Calvin, thanks for returning my call.”
“Of course. How’s my little Roar doing these days?”
Rory grimaced. “I need a favor. I want an unofficial meeting with the council elders, but without my dad.”
“Ah. This is about your father’s decision to split the head Council seat.”
“Of course. Do you think there’s a way to undo it?”
Calvin sighed heavily. “Not if he was the one to suggest it. It’s his chair to do with as he wishes.”
“You know this is fishy!”
“Honestly, why do you even care? Your family will be able to keep their fortune even if your father retires, which isn’t even happening. He’s merely splitting the responsibility because it’s clearly too much for him to handle.” Then he seemed to catch himself in the logic, though Rory could tell he’d puzzled everything out on his own. “Ah, but that would mean any future contributions to your family fortune would be split in two. My, my. That is a problem. My father seems the most likely candidate for the number two position, since he’s got the most seniority. That would put your father and mine on equal footing, which means…”
Rory cringed. “When they pass down their seats, they would go to you and me. We would co-rule together.”
A slow laugh bubbled to the surface, making Rory’s upper lip curl. “Far easier than us getting married, isn’t it?”
“That will never happen.”
“Oh, little Roar. It’s already happening. There’s no undoing what the Chancellor sets into motion. He only has to name his companion, and the way the council is run will change forever. I should think the people will be relieved. Now when the regime is passed down to us, there won’t be only a Deadpulse making all the decisions.”
Rory paled. “You and I have completely opposing political views. Nothing would ever get accomplished.”
“I’m sure we could do all sorts of things together,” he said with a smarm to his tone that made Rory clutch her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. “Long nights spent in heated debate just the two of us? I can practically see the sex tapes surfacing already.”
Rory wrestled with the urge to shout at Calvin. “My father should be able to keep his seat without having to share it. The council can thrive, as it’s always done under his rule.”
“I can’t imagine how tiresome it must be to care as much as you do. You can try all you like, but you know the Baron. Once he’s got his mind set on something, that’s the way it plays out.”
Rory wanted to scream at Calvin, but she kept her voice even. “Then I look forward to a lifetime of voting you down.”
“Whatever you like, birthday girl. Are you frightened, now that the date for your curse is coming due?” Calvin spoke with an overly dramatic vibrato to his voice.
Rory swallowed hard. “Frightened people hide themselves away. You know very well I gave up hiding from my fate the moment I learned to walk on my own.”
“Do you think it’ll happen at 12:01 on your birthday? Tales of woe are always sexier when they’re carried out at the stroke of midnight.”
Rory shuddered. “Don’t say ‘stroke’. It sounds creepy coming from you.”
Calvin laughed as she hung up. Rory didn’t waste any time calling the next number on her list. “Henry! I’ve called you five times today. Where have you been?”
It sounded to Rory like Henry was walking down an echoy hallway, and she guessed he was in his palace. “If it isn’t my future bride, all eager to hear the sultry sound of my voice. What can I do for you, baby?”
Rory’s shoulders relaxed at his goofball flirting that was never serious. “I need a favor. Being that you’re my future husband, I’m sure you’ll have no problem doing my bidding.”
“A dozen roses? Done! But why stop there? A dozen chariots with a dozen horses for my future bride. I’ll put in the order today. Happy almost uncurse-day to you, my love.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir. About that favor.”
“I hardly think now is the appropriate time to walk you through phone sex. I’m horribly out of practice. It’s been five, six hours since my last over-the-phone tryst with some desperate young lovely.”
“Would you shut it? Listen, I need you to talk to your father, and convince him that my dad shouldn’t split his ruling seat with anyone.”
Rory could hear the frown in Henry’s voice. “That sounds nothing at all like phone sex.”
“I’ll talk you off all day long if you can put your Pulse of Charm to good use and get my dad to see reason.”
“You will?”
She managed a small smile. “Not a chance. Go find one of your usual desperate young lovelies, and enjoy necking in your neck of the woods.”
Henry’s voice dropped with a note of seriousness. “Are you sure we shouldn’t hedge our bets with two Chancellors? This way, if you take a long time coming out of your coma, the kingdom won’t be in a state of panic – other than the fact that they’ll miss your lovely face, of course.”
“Can you picture Calvin being your number two? Because that’s what we’re dealing with, Henry.”
She could picture Henry’s grimace at the prospect of being stuck in a lifetime of fruitless meetings with the weasel they both despised. “Fair point. I’ll see what I can do.” His voice lightened back to its original buoyancy. “I really did get you a birthday gift, and it’s even better than a dozen red roses.”
Rory smiled, now that the task was off her plate. “You did?”
“But you can’t open it until the day after your actual birthday, because that’s how sure I am that your curse won’t hold water. And if it does, you’ll be so motivated to wake up to open my gift, you’ll reduce the lengthy coma to a six-hour nap, just so you can open my present.”
Rory brightened by degrees at Henry’s perpetual boyish cuteness, cradling the phone to her ear with a sweetness to her movements that came whenever her favorite friend doted on her. She started refilling the coffee in the pot for her employees as she spoke. “I love you, Henry. Thank you. You’re the best prince a girl could ask for.”
“I totally am. Love you, too. Next time I see you, I’ll have a big, sloppy kiss ready and waiting for you, wowing the crowd with our torrid affair. They’ll forget all about your curse or any political nastiness when rumors of us running off into the sunset circulate again.”
Rory chuckled at his antics. “Will you wear lipstick this time? I feel like we need to up the controversy. We’ve led far too dull of lives thus far.”
“Absolutely. Couldn’t agree more. This last attacker didn’t even abduct you! They’re losing their touch.”
Henry had done his grand sweeping princely kiss with her several times. It was always in public, and he always tried to slip his gum in her mouth because he said that made it all seem all the more tawdry for the viewers.
“I’ll see you later, Prince Charming.”
“Counting the minutes, my love,” Henry said before hanging up.
It was the eve of her twenty-fifth birthday, which caused her no small amount of anxiety. She didn’t want to lose her sanity by dwelling on Malaura’s curse, but the dread was there all the same. Everyone had urged her to take the day off of work, but somehow to Rory that felt like conceding defeat to Malaura, which she was unwilling to entertain.
“Who was that?” asked Cordray. She realized when she turned that he was standing stone-faced behind her.
“Just a friend. Hopefully you’ll meet him at my birthday party.” Her parents had spared no expense, planning a celebration in defiance of Malaura’s curse to take place the week after her birthday. The affair was more the middle finger to everyone in the kingdom who’d ever reminded them that Rory wasn’t supposed to live to see her twenty-fifth year. More RSVPs than ever before were coming in, everyone eager to see the outcome. The caterer had even mentioned that the menu could easily shift to a mourning spread, in case things went south and never bounced back for the Chancellor’s daughter. Leah and Stefan had been none too pleased about that little anecdote.
Cordray was not pacified with her canned response. “How long have you loved Henry?”