“Alizeh,” he said softly. “Have you been a wicked girl?” Abruptly she drew away from the table and hugged herself, her wet gown chilling her anew in the breeze. “No,” she said too quickly, realizing that, in fact, she might’ve underestimated the southern king. Never averting his eyes, Cyrus mirrored her earlier movements. He dropped an elbow onto the table, his cheek into his hand, and blinded her with a smile so sincere it unsettled her, inciting an unexpected, detestable flutter of feeling in her chest. “No?” he said, still smiling. Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head. “God,
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