The Prince and Mia

ly shield her from a blade. His bronze skin was taut with fury, his dark eyes blazing, the tailored lines of his suit accentuating the rigid,

ight with a dangerous calm, "t

son completely, sliced across the room to pin Mia to the spot. "You forget your station, Tarkan. And you, Miss Ritchard, have clearly forgotten yours. You should know

lt like a brand, marking her as an audacious fool. Her blond hair, still luminous, framed a face drained of color, her blue eyes wide with a mix of fear and acute humili

marble. "And in the future, you will restrict yourself to the events you are expl

clenched, his composure finally cra

r, Tarkan. In private." Her gaze was imperious. "For now, Ramzi will escort Miss Ritchard to the staff exi

hing past him, her shoulder grazed his arm, and she felt the warmth of his bronze skin through the silk of her gown, a fleetin

rmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear, "Be careful, Miss Ritchard. His feeli

trap snapping shut. She hurried down the long corridor, her crimson gown whispering against the marble, her blond hair catching the flickering torchlight. Tarkan's confession echoed in her mind, a torturous pulse

bronze complexion paling with immediate concern. Her emerald gown shimmered as she rushe

d with shame. "I... I need to leave, Myar," she whispered, clutching t

ong. Was it Tarkan? I saw you two dancing-he couldn't take hi

Your mother... she found us. Talking. She was furious, Myar. S

rt things out. I never meant to put you in her line of fire." She paused, her voice dropping, fierce and loyal. "But don't believe her lies. Tarkan isn't pl

ing with tears. "That boy is gone, Myar. He is

he whispered into Mia's hair. "You are my friend. And you are Tarkan's

as she slipped toward the staff exit, the weight of Myar's p

h a rage that had nowhere to go. "She did not deserve that," Tarkan growled, pacing l

d you. The Queen has spent years planning your match with Lady Lamar. Seeing you wit

y. She is not a threat. She's..." He faltered, the anger

your Highness either duty or desire. The Queen will not permit you to h

ening into cold steel. "Then I will prot

pare yourself, Your Highness. The Queen has already sum

gle bronze lamp. Heavy crimson tapestries embroidered with Klbasian falcons hung on the walls, their golden eyes seeming to watch

th steel. "After four years of education, I expected clarity. Maturity. Inst

. "Mia is not an infatuation," he said, his voice l

rown Prince of Klbas. Your choices have consequences that ripple through this entire kingdom, affecting alliances, stability, and o

arkan growled, stepping closer. "And it's cer

has been groomed for this role, for the duties of a queen. Unlike that girl, who would crumble under the weight of public scrutiny." She paused, letting her words sink in before delivering the killing blow, her tone shifting to on

hands, her sapphire eyes masking terror with defiance. Could he truly shield her from the relentless, cr

you believe. Your duty is to Klbas. To its future. Not chasing fantasies. Lady Lamar is your ally, your strength. Miss Ritchard is a weakness. A fleeting, romantic dream that will

k of duty, but what of my heart? Mia is not a weakness. S

smissive hand, as if brushing away a piece of lint. "W

in a prince, ready for a fight. He walked out a man trapped, his mother's words a slow-acting poison, the te

with unshed tears. Her beauty, once a quiet strength, now felt like a liability, a beacon drawing the danger of Queen Faya's scorn and Tarkan's reckless passion. She wrapped her

ght whispers of the prince's intense dance with a mysterious, unforgettable blonde in a crimson gown,