Of course, in order for him to stop making her cry, she couldn’t see him anymore.
None of them saw her again. Because of him.
Kairos never blamed him, because Kairos was too honorable to ever think about doing such a thing. Kairos only blamed him for the loss of his fiancée when it suited him, and then, never as much as Andres felt he deserved. Given that, he would never, ever blame him for their mother leaving.
Their father had. Angrily. Loudly. And Andres hadn’t even been able to feel sorry for himself because it had been true. He had known it then; he knew it now. You will never amount to anything. You’re nothing but a disappointment. If that was your best, if that was you trying, then you will never, ever succeed.
He had known it to be true then, and so he had simply gone off to do what he wanted. He hated trying to conform to palace life anyway. Who did he have left to please? His father believed him to be beyond redemption, his mother was gone. Kairos cared, if only in a long-suffering way, and didn’t seem to mind what Andres did as long as it didn’t affect him.
His indiscretion with Francesca had not been acceptable as far as Kairos was concerned, but then, Andres was not terribly surprised by that.
It was because of that that he was trying. Because of Kairos. Because if nothing else his brother had always cared for him, in spite of the fact that he had been nothing but trouble. Nothing but a disappointment. He was trying, and Zara was intent on seeing him fail.
That was why he had dragged her out of the ballroom. That was why he had allowed her to push him into this power struggle. Allowed her to push him into trying to one-up her.
And then she had grabbed him. She had meant it to be a threat, and he was not naive enough to think she wouldn’t follow through with it. Zara was a survivor. A fighter. He would not underestimate her. Had not underestimated her from the moment he had walked in and seen her in his bedroom.
He had anticipated that she would be difficult. That dealing with the engagement, the upcoming marriage, wouldn’t be an easy thing. He had never anticipated he would lose his mind completely and take her up against a wall in the palace. In public, where anyone could have found them. Yes, they were in a slightly hidden alcove, but all it would have taken was someone to wander out of the banquet and get lost looking for the restroom.
That was not how a prince was to treat his future princess. It was certainly nothing Kairos would ever have done with Tabitha. Of course, his brother was the authority on unhappy marriages. That was becoming more and more apparent.
That was also Andres’s fault.
His actions had forced Kairos into the speedy marriage in the first place.
The reason he had to atone now.
And Zara was making things impossible for no reason other than her own bloody-mindedness. She had nowhere else to go. He didn’t treat her badly.
What happened back there wasn’t treating her badly?
He gritted his teeth, shoving the thought down deep. Trying to ignore the growing unease in his chest.
He threw open the doors to his bedchamber before slamming them behind him. He pushed his fingers through his hair, and only then did he realize that his hands were shaking. How could he have done such a thing? How could he have allowed her to push his control like that?
How could he allow her to prove that he was still nothing more than the boy he’d been? The boy who couldn’t sit still for more than a couple of minutes. Who couldn’t fight any impulse that came upon him. He had wanted her, and so he had taken her.
Without a condom.
He swore, taking his suit jacket off and casting it onto the floor. He had never in his life forgone the use of protection. In truth, he was quite controlled in his debauchery. He didn’t keep himself from doing anything he wanted, but if he wanted to resist something, he was able. Sure, he didn’t have to exercise self-denial very often, but he was capable of it. Was capable of making responsible decisions.
Not today.
In public. In the middle of the day. Without protection.
The door burst open behind him and he whirled around to see Zara standing there, her hands clenched at her sides, her expression stormy, her dark eyes glistening. Her glossy black hair, which had been expertly schooled into a bun earlier, was disheveled now, all but shouting about what had taken place only moments earlier.