Axis checked his lapels, sleeves, and waistcoat for the thirtieth time. It was a more respectable use of his nervous energy than allowing his knee to bounce. He was a private man, and public displays of affection were more advertisement about his personal life than he’d liked to air.

However.

When Lexia arrived, her beautiful smile over this crystal dining set would be well worth the anxiety, and there was no better venue than this restaurant to ask for her betrothal. Here, in this quaint setting where they’d had their first date. So, so long ago now. He could almost recall similar nerves then as he sat in the private alcove waiting for her to arrive, she all of sixteen and he only seventeen. They were fortunate their fathers even allowed them to leave their homes at the time, let alone go on a date in a public setting.

How could Axis forget his surprise when she arrived in a dress? His Lexia. In a dress. It had been a magical evening for the two childhood friends to progress into something much more.

Now here they were again. Same restaurant; eight years later. Only this time, Axis knew better than to expect Lexia to arrive in a dress. She wouldn’t even attend the Founding balls, where the dress code mandated it.

No, Axis wouldn’t dream of asking Lexia to wear one. Not even for their wedding. She’d rant about not being dressed to participate in a duel, should the occasion call for it. The notion was amusing enough to make him smirk into his wine and relax his nerves.

No way.

While Axis waited for Lexia to arrive, he peered at the copper utensils surrounding the crystal plates. Everything else in this restaurant had come from Tempest crop or Flicker manufacturing. But the expensive copperware was an ugly reminder of Axis’ day—one he’d hoped to keep from his mind during this special evening. Yet as the parade sounded from outside with its ugly floats on Flicker-engineered rails, Axis had trouble keeping Gauge Snow off his mind.

“We keep losing employees to your mines because your pay and benefits are competitive, which goes against our accord,” Axis argued at his father’s side.

The older man nodded silently in his approval.

Gauge had steepled his gloved fingers to his lips and smirked behind them. The entire board went silent and awaited his response with bated breath. Before answering, Gauge removed his rose-tinted spectacles—the copper frames glinted in the whiskey light of his auspicious conservatory. Nothing in the room—not the grand piano, not the scantily dressed servants, nor the table of bespoke stakeholders—could take away from the piercing blue of the Count’s eyes. Their striking shade of cobalt emphasized the blue tint of his dark gray complexion.

Everyone in the room went stock still.

Into that silence, Gauge said, “The People’s Prince has spoken. I must reduce the pay and benefits offered in my mines should his family’s terrible mistreatment of their factories’ employees continue without consequence.”

What?

What ‘mistreatment’ was Gauge referring to?

At Axis’ frown, the Copper Count continued, “Perhaps you should investigate your own policies and practices—Standardize them, even. Rather than allowing your machine managers to dictate their own, including corrective action and training. With the kind of punishment I hear they dole out over the slightest mistakes, it’s a wonder you retain any employees whatsoever.”

Axis looked away from Gauge—an arduous task when all the chairs at the table were mounted to face him—and glared at his father.

Valve Flicker did nothing to refute the accusations. Instead, he took his cigar out of his mouth to say, “You’ll find the real trouble in the unions which keep forming under Dr. Tempest’s diligence.”

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Deflection.

It was an ugly admission of guilt which Axis abhorred, but, across the table, Dr. Tempest entertained it.

The good doctor said, “Since we’ve allowed a few crops to unionize, we’ve received fewer complaints from our more labor-intensive positions. In fact, we’ve seen an influx of new employees. I could even say a few came from your camp, Master Flicker.”

Axis almost shuddered where he sat waiting in the restaurant recalling the use of his father’s formal title. They were hand-selected after the previous world had ended: Doctor, Master, and Count. At least Leon held a doctorate in agricultural science in his previous life. But Master and Count?

Axis had rolled his eyes at the arrogance then, and he almost rolled them now. But he caught a glimpse of white from the doorway. It was enough to banish any aggravation from today’s leadership meeting. Only two people in all of Winter were born with white hair, and sadly, Lexia had lost her mother two years ago.

As she walked through the door, the smile on her burgundy-painted lips was all that mattered in the world. It lit up the room far better than the wicks in the gas lamps, but Lexia’s clothes made Axis think of darker things. How was she even breathing in that corset? And she wore the thigh-high boots he liked to make them nearly the same height.

Stunned.

That’s how Axis felt until he shook himself from the trance and minded his manners enough to stand and pull out Lexia’s chair. He’d worn a new silk three-piece for her in the color she liked, matching the rich burgundy of her lips and his hair. It could only bring out the soft green of his eyes, and the eye contact between them said that she’d noticed.

They didn’t kiss when Lexia arrived at the table, taking her seat and peering up at Axis with the desire to do so in her eyes. But she respected his phobia about public displays of affection, which made him hope all the more that his plans for tonight would surprise her.

It took everything in Axis to brush Lexia’s back through the chair, and, when he sat, he could see how she beamed at him for it.

Yes. Tonight was the night.

They didn’t need menus. The wait staff immediately served them their favorite drinks and appetizers, and would return with their entrees soon. In that time, Axis tried his best to work up his nerve, and bless Lexia for breaking the tension.

“I was the only one in the office today. This Founding Season seems to be more anticipated than I can think of any other year.”

Axis ate up the small talk as an excuse to slow his pounding heart. He said, “It was in the air at the board meeting. Did your father brief you on it yet?” Some part of him was grateful Dr. Tempest never asked Lexia to attend. She wouldn’t stand for Snow’s grandiose flexing. But another part of Axis knew how much Lexia wanted her father to respect her enough to let her attend. It was a complex situation, and one which would eventually find resolution.

Lexia beamed as she said, “Not yet. I came straight here to meet you.” She didn’t have to ask about the surprise Axis had promised. He could see the curiosity naked in her exotic eyes. Despite how much powder she’d applied, she could never fully cover the striking effect of her freckles so near those obsidian irises.

Could they just skip this part and get straight to celebrating their time by sneaking off to his bedroom?

Axis’ thoughts must’ve shown on his face, because Lexia’s grin tilted into a sexy, knowing smirk. It was infectious.

This was it.

The timepiece on Axis’ wrist was leather and silver, simple and elegant. When he began rolling back his sleeve, he heard Lexia’s breath catch in a soft gasp. He said, “Lexi, would you—”

Servers interrupted with the entrees, and Axis hid his exposed arm under the table like a coward. He almost broke out into a sweat. Why was this so hard?

Across from him, Lexia smiled. It wasn’t pitying, even though she was fully aware of his command for privacy. It was gorgeous and bright, completely aware of the gesture he’d wanted to make without ruining the surprise.

While Axis tried to recover from an onset of panic, Lexia’s boot found his calf and traveled up between his legs. Hers were long enough to span the distance. After Lexia caught his eye and winked, Axis spread his legs further for her.

She was perfection, and he wanted her forever. That’s what the exchanging of watches meant. They would share their time belonging to one another, if only Axis could muster up the nerve.

But the entrees came and went.

They’d split dessert with Axis biting his lip because of Lexia’s teasing.

It seemed the entire date had passed in the blink of an eye, and now the opportunity to propose publicly had closed. Axis couldn’t do it. He’d even unrolled his sleeve and tried his best not to look defeated.

Lexia knew. It was in her eyes, kind as they were. She said, “We’ll stick to the rest of the plan for tonight.”

Meaning, Lexia would try to ditch her bodyguard who waited outside the restaurant to sneak over to Axis’ apartments. She must know that when he’d made those plans, he’d intended for them to be engaged already, but she showed no signs of disappointment. In fact, she seemed eager to get him alone.

That was how Axis liked it, which was also part of his problem.

When he’d asked last year for Dr. Tempest’s blessing, Lexia’s father had been clear—If Axis couldn’t handle a public engagement, then he couldn’t handle a public wedding. Or a public lifetime partnership.

One day, Axis would live up to his promise.