The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

“It’s a lot of pressure. The king dying.”
“Your father, you mean.”
“My father, the king.” His eyes searched mine. “I don’t
expect you see him as a father or a husband. Just as a strict
ruler who wants the last say in everything and the reason a
lot of people are su ering.”
This time, I glanced away and looked back at the ocean.
The turmoil in it matched his eyes, and I couldn’t seem to
find solace in it. He wasn’t wrong. A lot of people were
waiting for his father’s demise. There were hungry people in
the street. People losing their houses, their jobs, their
families. It wasn’t something the king could possibly
understand and up until tonight, something I didn’t think
Prince Elias could understand either. Maybe I’d been wrong
in my judgment. He seemed like a man who carried loss well,
but felt the burden of it nonetheless. The sound of sand
swishing behind us made us turn our heads as one of his
security detail approached.
“The Princess of Austria is looking for you,” he said.
Prince Elias sighed heavily, throwing his head back as if
to ask the universe for patience. It was yet another glimpse
of the person he hid beneath his stoicism. He stood up
slowly, the sand on his pants falling on the skirt of my dress
with the movement. The security detail walked away and
Prince Elias stood there for a long moment in silence,
watching the ocean, with only the sound of the waves to
disturb his thoughts.
“I’ll see you another time, Miss Adeline,” he said. “Thank
you for indulging me and attending the party, as short-lived
as it was.”
“Thank you for inviting me as a guest.” I smiled slightly,
looking up at him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry your
father is dying.”