Surviving His Royal Highnass, Prince Ashton

Chapter Thirty-Four: By the Fireside

Evelyn's POV

            My heart clenched as those words left his mouth. I didn't realize that he heard my conversation with Clyde, and now I feared that he grossly misunderstood everything.

"You were eavesdropping." I stated.

It was pointless to question it.

His chest heaved up as he drew in a heavy breath, "Well, I was within earshot. Why? Would you have chosen your words more carefully had you known I was listening?"

His icy tone sent shivers down my spine. I shifted away from his shoulder so that I could face him. His eyebrows were slanted downwards and his crystal blue eyes were flecked with anger.

It has been a while since we last fought.

I sought warmth from the burning embers of the hearth as I chose my words carefully, "Ash, you know I would never leave you. I gave you my word."

"Sometimes I worry, Evelyn." I cringed at his use of my proper name. "The way you look at these people, as if you're enchanted by their wayward lives! I don't think you understand that you can only do so much without sacrificing your own personal duties."

"I want to do as much as I can." I muttered through clenched teeth.

"As you can. So you do realize that there are limits."

"What made you think otherwise?"

"I simply want you to be aware that it would not have been humanely possible to leave a coronation, your coronation, just so fulfill some seamstress' dying wish."

I hissed, "She was more than just some seamstress."

Ash exhaled, "To you, maybe. But not to the rest of the kingdom."

"Who are you to deem how worthy someone's life is?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"The King." He grimaced.

I focused on the flames dancing in front of us.

It was unfair. Very unfair.

"Oh please don't be so naïve, Evelyn." He chastised, as if he could read my thoughts.

"Why are you here, then?" I asked in a muted voice.

"To be with you."

"So you have no qualms knowing that the citizens of this kingdom live in worse conditions than this, daily?"

He shrugged, "Well you seem to have some brilliant reformation plan in mind, so let's see how viable it is."

I turned to face him again. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his expression, for once.

I took it as a challenge.

"Fine, let's see. We'll arrange for counsel the moment we return tomorrow morning."

He gave me a firm nod. As if to end the topic there, the pot started overflowing, prompting me to reach up and grab it with a rag. I hissed as I still managed to burn a finger. I immediately released my hold as soon as the pot found ground. Ash lunged out and grabbed my finger.

"I knew this was a bad idea." He muttered under his breath.

He started blowing on the redness that blotched my pointer finger. I couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" He snapped.

I pouted, "Does this not remind you of the time that a certain someone burnt his dainty little finger while crafting a ring?"

A smile finally cracked through his stern mask.

Finally. Anger never suited him.

He shook his head, "That feels like forever ago."

"At least we're past the point of petty grudges and week long cold shoulders." I sighed, resuming my position against his chest.

He lightly knocked on my head, "I wouldn't jinx ourselves. After all, that gruel is yet to be tasted."

I squinted at him, "What does that mean?"

He smirked, "You never did present your abilities to me before we got married, as any suitable young maiden should."

"Hmph." I twisted my mouth into a pout, "As if domestic duties amount to anything if there isn't even a speck of worldly knowledge to go with it."

"I believe one of them knew how to play the harp. There's just something so enchanting about a fair lady caressing—What about my plate?" He asked as I started serving myself.

"Oh I don't know, perhaps the fair lady with the harp will fetch it for you." I chastised while batting my eyelashes.

He let out a scoff of disbelief before begrudgingly leaving his cozy spot near the hearth, and a satisfied smile decorated my face.