‘You didn’t fail,’ he said flatly. ‘What happened in the ballroom was my fault and mine alone.’
She looked up at him, frowning. ‘What do you mean, it’s your fault? You’re not the one who forgot everyone’s name or knocked a glass out of—’
‘No, but I’m the one who ignored you the entire week, giving your preparation over to someone else who clearly had no idea what they were doing. I’m the one who didn’t check on you to make sure things were running smoothly. And I’m the one who didn’t ask you tonight if you felt prepared or take any notice of how pale you were or how frightened you looked.’ He stared into her reddened eyes, wanting her to be absolutely certain. ‘It won’t happen again. Do you understand?’
Her cheeks had gained a little colour, which was good. ‘Did I really look that frightened?’
‘Yes. You looked terrified.’
Her silvery lashes descended, veiling her gaze. ‘I didn’t mean to. I’m...not very good at hiding my emotions.’
‘You’ll learn. But not in a week.’ He came to the doors of his private apartments, the guards rushing to open them so he could walk through. ‘And, given that for the last five years you’ve been living in the country with no court experience at all, it was unconscionable for me to expect this of you so quickly.’
‘You don’t need to blame yourself,’ she said quietly. ‘Some of this was my fault too. It reminded me too much of all those parties my mother kept dragging me to and I suppose I...panicked.’
He knew what her mother had put her through. She’d told him, in the months after their wedding, when he’d visited her, how her parents had never been happy with her and how she’d always disappointed them.
He hadn’t realised, though, that balls and social engagements would still be an issue, even all these years later.
You should have.
Yes, damn right he should have.
‘No, it was not.’ He couldn’t bear for her to take the blame, not even a small part of it. ‘I’m the King, and you’re my queen, therefore it’s my responsibility to prepare you for your role. And I should have remembered that about your mother.’
His footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he passed by the door of his study, carrying on down towards his bedroom.
Because that was where this had to end.
It was his own desires that had got Inara tangled up in this, so it would be his own desires that he’d deal with first. And perhaps, once he had, he could then focus on the important work of preparing her to undertake her queenly duties properly.
He was conscious of Inara’s gaze on him as he walked, of her warm body in his arms and how it seemed to fit there perfectly. Of how his hunger seemed to grow with each step and how his anticipation gathered tighter and tighter.
‘I didn’t think it would be such an issue for me, so why you should have been able to anticipate it I have no idea,’ she murmured. ‘You don’t have to take responsibility for everything, you know.’
He didn’t deign to respond. Of course he had to take responsibility for everything. He was the King. What else did a king do?
But it was becoming difficult to think of anything beyond the feel of her in his arms, and how he hadn’t been able to look at her all evening. Yet now, in the privacy of his bedroom, he’d strip that gown from her body and look his fill.
No one will be watching you. No one will be judging you.
His breath caught as realisation gripped him tight.
In his bedroom he could be anyone he wanted. There’d be no one to see him. No one to know if his crown slipped a little, or even a lot.
No one but Inara. And she already knew who he truly was inside. She always had.
‘Where are we going, Cassius?’ She sounded as if she already knew.
He glanced down once more, meeting her gaze. ‘Where we should have gone the night you arrived. To my bedroom.’