Chapter 6 - The Kiss He Asked For
The old vault lay beneath the chapel, behind two iron doors and a century of official neglect.
Arden found its inventory in the hotel archive.
Emergency grain reserves.
Treaty copies.
Winter relief accounts.
Seventeen years of records no one had bothered to destroy because no one important had expected an omega seamstress to understand them.
“The chancellor can’t open it alone,” Arden said. “He needs the crown seal and two provincial witnesses.”
“When?” Draven asked.
“Tomorrow morning. After the emergency council.”
Carmel looked up.
“If they suspend you, he gets the seal.”
“Yes.”
“And then the records disappear.”
Maeve folded her arms.
“We can post guards.”
“We will,” Draven said. “But we need lawful access before anyone claims I manufactured evidence.”
One of the independent delegates, Governor Sera Wynn, arrived that evening.
She was an alpha with silver hair, a patient voice, and no particular affection for the king.
Carmel liked her immediately.
Governor Wynn listened to the recording of Mara’s testimony, examined the bracelet, and read the statement Carmel’s family had tried to make her sign.
Then she asked to speak with Carmel alone.
Draven left without protest.
The governor waited until the door closed.
“Has he promised you anything?”
“Safety. Paid work if I want it. Time.”
“A title?”
“No.”
“Marriage?”
Carmel’s face warmed.
“No.”
“Has he touched you?”
“With my permission.”
Governor Wynn nodded.
“I had to ask.”
“I know.”
“Do you believe him?”
Carmel looked toward the window.
“I believe he wants to do better. I don’t know yet what that looks like when it becomes difficult.”
The governor smiled faintly.
“That is a more useful answer than love.”
She signed an order authorizing an independent inspection of the vault at dawn.
Before leaving, she added a second condition.
“Until then, you both remain here. No midnight adventures. Evidence is less useful when its witnesses get themselves killed.”
For the first time all day, Carmel laughed.
Later, she found Draven on the covered terrace.
Snow drifted beyond the stone arches. He wore no crown, only a dark sweater and the same tired expression she was beginning to recognize.
“Governor Wynn thinks I’m sensible,” Carmel said.
“She dislikes almost everyone. That is high praise.”
Carmel stood beside him.
For a while, they watched the storm.
Then she asked, “Were you going to marry Isabella?”
“No.”
“Does she know that?”
“She has been told directly. More than once.”
“Then why does everyone assume—”
“Because I allowed political convenience to look like possibility.”
Carmel studied him.
“That was cruel.”
“Yes.”
He accepted the word.
No excuses.
No lecture about how complicated power could be.
She leaned against the cold railing.
“My father used to say powerful people never admit mistakes.”
“Your father benefits from that belief.”
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
Draven smiled.
There it was again.
The expression from the morning she woke in his bed.
It changed his whole face.
“You should do that more,” she said.
“What?”
“Smile.”
“I have received contradictory advice about it.”
“From whom?”
“People who prefer to be frightened of me.”
Carmel turned toward him.
“I was frightened of you.”
“Was?”
“I’m still deciding.”
“Reasonable.”
Wind pushed snow through the nearest arch.
She shivered.
He took off his coat, then paused.
“May I?”
She nodded.
He settled it around her shoulders.
It smelled of cedar, woodsmoke, and the strange calm she had felt beneath his blankets.
“Do you feel it?” she asked.
He knew what she meant.
“Yes.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Only when I think you might believe it leaves you no choice.”
Carmel looked up at him.
“I want to kiss you.”
He went very still.
“Because of the bond?”
“Because you ask before touching me. Because you listen when I’m angry. Because you look lonely, and I’m trying very hard not to make that my responsibility.”
His breath left slowly.
“That last part matters.”
“I know.”
He lifted one hand, stopping beside her cheek.
“May I kiss you, Carmel?”
“Yes.”
The kiss was gentle.
No demand.
No sudden claim.
Just warmth in the middle of winter.
When they stepped apart, Carmel was smiling.
Then the terrace door opened.
Maeve stood beneath the arch, her face grim.
“We found the missing registration assistant.”
Draven’s expression changed.
“Alive?”
“Yes. Terrified. She says Isabella ordered the photograph.”
Carmel tightened her grip on the coat.
Maeve continued.
“She also says the chancellor has someone inside our security team.”
May you like
Behind them, deep beneath the chapel, a bell began ringing.
The fire alarm.
