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Across from her, Asher sits. My eyebrows arch when I see the top button of his shirt undone, revealing more of his burn scar than he usually does. He gives Jacinthe a smile, and bitter jealousy twists somewhere deep in my stomach.
Irrational, sure. But it’s there.
Gulping, I turn up the volume.
“…The new mines will provide jobs for over two thousand people during construction, and seven hundred and fifty permanent jobs during the operating phase.” Asher’s hands are folded on his lap as he reclines against the back of the chair, looking powerful and completely at ease. “If phases two and three of the project are approved, those numbers could triple.”
Jacinthe shifts in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. She leans forward, a dangerous look dancing in her eyes. “Mr. Gerhard, is it true the Queen initially rejected your proposal to open the diamond mine? She stood in the way of Nordish progress until you were able to convince her otherwise, happy to let thousands of people remain without employment while Nord threatens to enter a recession?”
I grind my teeth together. That’s a total lie. I’m the one who told Asher about the diamond fields and encouraged him to submit a proposal. Me. Crawley has always been able to twist the truth for her own agenda—but then, I suppose, she is a reporter. She has headlines to sell and an agenda to push—one that includes the end of the monarchy in Nord.
Asher chuckles, the sound low and warm, with just a hint of menace. I clench my thighs together, leaning toward the screen. “The Crown has been nothing but supportive of our efforts near Roston. The Queen herself even made the trip and managed to get us to commit to thirty percent more jobs guaranteed to Nordish citizens. She was in full support of the joint venture with NRG, ensuring that Nordish interests were front and center in the project. She very clearly stated she didn’t want us to bring in workers from elsewhere when there were hundreds of qualified tradespeople and professionals in Nord. Her Majesty wasn’t standing in the way of Nordish progress. Quite the opposite—she advocated for her people every step of the way.”
Warmth curls in my heart as my cheeks grow pink. Asher didn’t have to say that. Yes, it’s true I asked him to guarantee jobs for my people. But to admit it on television? That makes me look good at his own expense. He could have played it off as a quality of his own company. Instead, he chose to shine a favorable light on me.
My breath catches as the camera stills on Asher, his upper body in the frame. The pinkish, pale skin on his neck is on full display, and he makes no move to cover it up. Pride swells inside me, and I wonder if our evening together had an effect on him. Did he feel the shift between us, as I did? Did it hurt him to see me leave? Has he been thinking of me as much as I have him?
Shaking my head, I lean back in the chair and listen to the rest of the interview. I wouldn’t have that kind of effect on him. What we shared in the kitchen—and at Prince Gabriel’s wedding, if I’m honest—was special, but that doesn’t mean it changed the fabric of who Asher is.
If he’s showing off the scar, it’s either because he’s always felt comfortable doing so, or he thinks it’ll be beneficial to the reception he gets in Nord. Nothing more. He’s a businessman and an incredibly clever one at that. His interview today has nothing to do with me.
Still, when I flick the television off, I clutch the remote to my breast and let out a long sigh. Something is changing inside me. I no longer feel like the world is muffled under a layer of frost. My emotions aren’t cold and distant.
Heat is melting the ice inside me. Fire is making me feel alive. Asher’s presence is bringing me back to life, and I don’t know what to do about it.
If I pursue these feelings, I open myself up to criticism, ridicule, and rejection. I could be accused of signing off on the mining rights at Roston because he’s my lover, and not because it’s good for Nord.
But if I turn my back on Asher, can I really face a lifetime of cold distance? Can I keep my feelings at arm’s length and pretend that nothing has been awoken inside me? Can I say goodbye to Asher and resign myself to a life of loneliness?
As I sit in my office, with the same four walls that have surrounded me since I became the Queen at ten years old, conflict rages within me.
On one side, duty. On the other, life.
Both have been one and the same until Asher walked into my life and showed me what I’ve been missing. My life was my duty until now.
Until Asher.
16
Asher
Reginald Donovan’s whole head is bright red. Fire sparks in his eyes as steam curls out of his ears. “You bastard,” he sneers, leaning his knuckles on my desk.
I lean back, tenting my fingers in front of my chest. Popping a brow, I look the man up and down. The buttons of his poor shirt are straining against the effort of remaining closed. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, and it looks like he ran the whole way here. Not that he’d be able to run very far. Cruel, tangy satisfaction tickles my tongue as I allow myself to smile. “Hello, Reggie.”
“Don’t fucking Reggie me, you piece of shit.” Spittle flies from his mouth, spraying my forehead with saliva.
The diamond mines have been all over the news. I’ve been doing interviews and press releases day in, day out. The people of Nord are happy about the new industry, and Gerhard, Inc. has gotten more good press since the announcement than we do in a full year. The partnership with NRG is the best deal I’ve made in years.
Suck on that, Logan.
I have Penelope to thank for it—and I’ve been making sure to make that clear in every interview I have. She might be the Ice Queen of Nord, but she deserves the credit for this.
Shaking out a handkerchief, I dab Reginald’s spit off my face. “I assume you heard about the diamond fields near Roston.”
“You snake. You little fucking dog. I bet your father’s happy with you. Did he give you a tasty little dog treat, you…you…you…”
“If you’re going to keep calling me names, Reggie, I’m going to have you escorted out of here.”
