just fall | ✓

10.

Later, Alexander directed me to the wardrobe in the bedroom for something more comfortable and less heavy, and I found a small variety of dresses and gowns, as well as some pants and suit jackets for Alexander. I pulled a yellow sundress made of chiffon from the hanger and quickly changed into it, and sprayed my face with a bottle of rosewater that was sitting on the small vanity in the room. Feeling cooler, I returned to the kitchen, where Alexander was busy cooking. I didn't know what it was, but it smelled good.

He looked at me and smiled, and my heart fluttered in my chest. I took a seat at the island again and watched him work. Despite having been palace-raised and having every meal cooked for him, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and his movements carried the usual confidence that was in everything he did. Without a suit jacket covering the back of his shirt, I could see that he wasn't just broad-shouldered, but that he had also clearly been doing some sort of exercising. At times, his shirt almost strained against the muscles in his back as he moved, but of course, it was made to perfectly fit him, and it did.

I realized that I was thinking a little too much about his physique and cut off that line of thinking. It didn't matter whether he was sculpted like a god or thin enough to see his bones, I reminded myself, because I was here for the paycheck and the caste raise, and nothing more. Definitely nothing more. I didn't need a boyfriend or a husband or any of that bullshit. I could take care of myself. I didn't need someone else to worry about, especially not the future king of Illéa. Definitely not him.

Maybe this little getaway wasn't such a great idea after all.

"You seem surprised that I can cook," he said, looking at me with a laugh in his eyes. I hadn't realized how relaxed he was until that moment; gone was cool, uptight Alexander, and in his place was a man of almost twenty, carefree and happy to exist. Regardless of my conflicting feelings, I was glad that it was having such a positive impact on him, and decided that all of this inner turmoil was worth it.

"I am," I answered honestly. "Here I'd been thinking that all you're good for is griping about politics and going over budgets for the fiftieth time."

He let out a laugh. "I like to think that I can do more than that," he said. "But maybe I'm just arrogant."

"Maybe," I said. "Do you have hobbies other than cooking?"

"Of course." He was grinning. I'd never seen that kind of light in his eyes, and I wished it would stay even when we returned to the palace. Something told me that it wouldn't. "I'm fairly good at archery and martial arts."

"Martial arts?"

He shrugged. "I had a lot more time a few years ago. I picked up some combat skills. I trained a lot with the soldiers and the palace guards, and they taught me a lot. If I choose to give up my kingship, I'll probably end up as a military strategist and commander." He said it casually, as if this were something he had contemplated many times.

"You'd give up being king?"

"Maybe," he said. "Mason begs me not to because I handle all of the budgets and meetings and such better than him. He has no wish to be king. He's quite happy as is."

"And you?"

"I think a monarchy is foolish and pompous," he said. This surprised me, but he kept talking, so I kept listening. "Historically, monarchies don't do much good for the people, only the aristocracy, and it's no different here. We were a complete mess when we were the United States of America, Mexico, and Canada, and the United States needed to be fixed, but creating a monarchy was idiotic at best. I'd dismantle it the second I was given the crown if I could. I've been telling my father to establish a more democratic monarchy for years, one where we'd be more of figureheads and would allow the people to have more say and more freedoms and liberties, but his advisors all say it's a terrible idea. He knows it isn't, but he can't really act without their approval."