Page 24 of The Kraken Bride

I swallowed a laugh as we both scooted closer. Our knees brushed, as ordered, and I jolted. Romance novels had plenty to say about the intimacy of a lingering glance, the stroke of skin against skin, a stolen kiss. They omitted the disarming effects of a knee graze.

Mr. Thorson walked a circle around us. “You’ll forgive the informality of my instruction. The convergence ball is our most important event of the season and it kicks off tomorrow. The formal courtship, rushed as it is,” he said with a pointed glance at Sebastian, “will be scrutinized by all.”

The king did not appear the least bit abashed.

Wait. “A ball?” Tomorrow? Where?

“Quiet,” Mr. Thorson interjected and Sebastian’s mouth curved. Just barely. Just enough to steal my breath. “Students should listen. Teachers should speak.”

So. Definitely no smiling instructions necessary. What little the king gave was already too much for my peace of mind.

“There are many gestures.” Mr. Thorson walked around them. “I’ll give you the three that matter most and pray we are not all humiliated. The first gesture is the wrist clasp. Princess, begin.”

A wrist clasp? Was he for real? As if I didn’t know how to clasp a man’s wrist. I reached for Sebastian’s and⁠—

“Nei! Nei!” Mr. Thorson bellowed, and I froze before contact.

My eyes went wide. Sebastian rolled his lips between his teeth.

“We do not manhandle the king. We gently rest our fingers on the inside of his forearm and slide.” Mr. Thorson guided my hand to where he wanted it. “Here, where the pulse runs closest to the surface. This gesture signals trust to all who witness it.”

The kraken king’s skin felt warmer than I’d expected, not coated with the chill of the deep sea. And those runes. So lovely. I traced my fingertips at the edge of his glove.

His next inhalation came a little too hard and a lot too quick, and the knowledge that I affected him sent a tremor through me.

“Firmer.” Mr. Thorson snapped his fingers. “You aren’t doing him a favor, princess. You are claiming him in public.”

Heat crawled up my neck, but I adjusted my grip while Sebastian stared me down, his smolder cranked to high.

“Better. Now then. When you add a tap, it means you sense danger. But I caution you not to use it indiscriminately. We don’t want another lord removing a man’s head simply because a shadow spooked his lover.” Thorson focused on Sebastian. “For the second, you take her hand and turn it up. Press two fingers to the center of her palm.”

The king followed instructions exactly, his touch light. Still he made my blood sing.

Mr. Thorson watched me and shook his head. “This gesture is answered by stillness, princess, not flinching.”

“Ambassador,” I corrected. Had I flinched? I made myself go statue still.

“In here, you are a princess and royal consort,” Mr. Thorson said after giving me his you dare instruct the instructor? look. “To anyone watching, this press of the king’s fingers to your palm means he has chosen you above the tide. At the same time, this provides a wordless communication system. An alert if something goes wrong, and you cannot voice it.”

Sebastian stroked his fingers against my palm, very much not conveying an alert.

I made myself hold his gaze, amazed at the thought of needing such a signal for real. Of facing something ancient and deadly and having no way to warn him except through the language of a pretend courtship.

“Your majesty,” Mr. Thorson huffed as if pushed past his limit. “I have been with you all your life. You know my rules. No acting out of turn.”

“I am communicating something to the princess.” The king did not stop his movement. His voice went low and husky. “Can you decipher it, Brona?”

I couldn’t even think! Shivers rained over my spine, every inch of me waking to the languid drag of his fingers. “Interpret for me,” I beseeched.

He merely smiled. A slow lifting of the corners of his mouth, and I lost my breath all over again.

Mr. Thorson clapped, breaking the spell. “All right. Enough of that. Let’s finish so I can excuse myself from your... conversation. Up, up. This will be like a dance.”

Finally. Something I excelled at.

Sebastian rose and helped me to my feet.

“This move doesn’t require touch but proximity.” Mr. Thorson scooted the stools out of the way. “A half-step nearer than etiquette usually permits, held past the count of three.” He moved to my side. “Show me you understand.”