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thought of her propriety. She rose and backed away. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. The guard that had bumped into her, hovered, continually asking if she was well. Thank the gods he had only fallen against her gown or he would have been put to death. Worse still, Caprice would have had to freeze him in order to keep her secret. She felt confident none of the Vendri had seen her brush the Giant.
    Refusing to meet anyone’s eye, she turned away and made the long walk back to the throne. They had witnessed her fall; she dared anyone to say a word about it.
    When she finally reached her seat, an incredulous Addy at her side, Caprice braced herself for the disdainful looks, for the whispers until she realized—not one eye had turned toward her. No one was paying any attention. Instead they faced the stage. Turning slowly, an impending sense of doom settling over her as anticipation tightened her glass-covered skin, she gasped at what she saw.
    The Giant had risen.

Chapter 5
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    A whiny high-pitched shriek reverberated through the courtyard, the tell tale sign of metal being torn asunder. The sound was so loud, Caprice became convinced the glass ceiling would shatter from the force. The prisoner was escaping. Before she could move, guards poured in from every door and swallowed the king in their swarm. Their main focus was always her father, which gave her a chance to pull Addy to the side and hide them behind a large tapestry against the wall.
    The Vendri scattered, screeching and squealing as they raced around the courtyard like ice-roaches. Caprice held back a bitter laugh. So much for the fabled calm of the Glissante. Where was the frost in their hearts? They were supposed to be dispassionate about any situation, unless, of course, a raging giant was about to smash them like flakes under his shoe.
    Peeking around the curtain, she tried to get a better view of all the commotion.
    “Prin, get back! What if someone sees you?” Addy pulled at the train of her dress, careful to remain behind her Mistress.
    “See me? Like who? The frightened Vendri scurrying into their holes like snow-rats? I want to get a look—”
    She had no view. Desperate to see him, she stepped forward, fear racing through her veins.
    There he stood.
    It was as if time slowed, moving by at half speed. Vaguely, she acknowledged Addy, the Vendri, the fallen guards, looking like broken toys scattered across the floor, only to be replaced by new guards rushing in to take their place. But nothing, nothing could keep her gaze from the slave—No, not a slave, but a towering giant of a man who looked to be lit from within.
    Fascinated and with a full courtyard between them, she watched him battle two, three, even four guards at a time. Taking one step closer, then another, she felt compelled to get near him. His sweat-covered skin shone bronze in the torchlight.
    Fist clenched, he slammed the broken chains hanging from his wrists into two guards’ faces. He stood, growling, as if to taunt them. In profile— My gods! —he was magnificent, the tallest and widest man she’d ever seen. He must be a full head taller than her.
    Dark pants made of thick black material hung low on his hips. Tight, black bands crisscrossed his bare chest and smaller bands wrapped tight around his bulging biceps. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart banging strong enough to burst past her breasts. His chest and stomach were… indescribable. Is this what a man was meant to look like under his clothes? She had always burned to know the answer.
    Mounds and valleys, smooth muscled dips and turns checkered his front. If she could just get closer she would discover if he smelled as delicious as he looked.
    Delicious? Had she lost her mind? She knew she was not showing the decorum expected of a future queen but for this once, in this minute, facing the defiant man, she didn’t care. That admission should have scared her more than any other, but she couldn’t stop