Alicia sat on the floor of her room, her back pressed against the wooden door, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her dress as she bit her lower lip, deep in thought. Her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of pink, like the ripe cherries that hung in the royal garden. She couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, and worse, the slap that followed.
She had slapped Adrien, the Crown Prince—the cold, untouchable, arrogant demon of a man who commanded respect and fear from everyone in the kingdom. The same man who had, for a fleeting moment, broken down the walls around his icy demeanor and kissed her with a passion that had both shocked and overwhelmed her.
How could she have done that? Slap him? She replayed the moment over and over in her head, still incredulous. It wasn't something she would have imagined in a thousand years, let alone a million. And yet, it had happened.
