Pathos.
“You keep mentioning the choice between love and country,” Jas said. “Does that mean you are in love with Mr. Larsen?”
The crowd held its breath. The entire country, it seemed, held its breath.
In the distance, a car honked, and a bird swooped overhead, its wings flapping against the clear blue sky. Neither disturbed the heavy hush blanketing the lawn.
I waited for one beat. Two. Then, with a small smile, I said, “Yes. I am. That is all. Thank you to everyone for coming today.”
I left the podium to a frenzy of shouts and cheers.
My legs shook, and my heart thundered as I walked to the back of the palace. I did it. I couldn’t believe it.
But I couldn’t celebrate just yet. I had one thing left on my to-do list.
I stepped into the marble-floored breezeway by the palace’s side entrance. Rhys waited in the shadows of the columns, his gray eyes burning with a molten flame. “You did good, princess.”
I stepped into his embrace, my pulse hammering in my throat. “It’s not over yet.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered, “Kiss me like the world’s watching.”
His slow smile dripped through me like rich, smooth honey. “Gladly, Your Highness.”
Rhys’s mouth descended on mine, and I heard the soft, telltale click of a camera shutter from the nearby bushes.
“Think they got it?” His lips brushed against mine as he spoke.
“Definitely.”
He grinned and kissed me again. Deeper this time, more insistent, and I pressed against him, letting his touch and taste sweep me away.
The first kiss was for the world. This one was for us.