23. Kienna
Kienna didn’t sleep well after the monster attack, and her dreams... well, they were either nightmares replaying the horrible events, or, when she did dream of her cottage, it was all hazy. Her prince never came. She’d make tea, but then she’d sit alone until it went cold.
A few times, she thought she saw something out the window—but when she moved to check to see if it was him, there was no one there. And the feeling that came over her when this happened was… unnerving, like someone had stepped too close into her personal space. It was a feeling she’d never experienced with her prince—not in her dream, at least.
But he never came. She hadn’t seen him in the waking world, either. She’d avoided him, truth be told. After how angry the beast had been upon seeing them together at the gazebo, she feared that he’d react poorly if he found out she’d spent any more time with her prince. The beast was confined to bed, but Zoya and the other servants were, ultimately, loyal to him, not to Kienna or her prince.
Besides, the growing certainty that the man she’d found in the waking world wasn’t her prince wouldn’t leave her. She couldn’t understand most of their conversation at the gazebo, but he hadn’t spoken to the beast as a captive would. He’d even called the beast by his name, if Kienna wasn’t mistaken. She’d wondered for weeks what the rest of the beast’s name was. Rev-something.
Revi, the prince—the man—had said. She liked how that name sounded. Strong. It fit the Winter Prince.
But if the man she’d found wasn’t her dream prince, who was? Her mind returned to the question constantly, taunting her with glowing blue eyes and a deep, rich voice.
Could it be… Revi? The Winter Prince, walking her dreams in his true form instead of as a beast?
The idea fit, somehow. He had never acted as beastly as he seemed to think he did. Once she’d grown accustomed to speaking to a massive creature that looked like it could eat her… she’d begun to realize how deeply he cared for his Court. How he treated her with respect, even kindness. Yes, he was somewhat bristly and proud, but he was good beneath all of that.
Just like her dream prince.
But if the Winter Prince was her dream prince, why hadn’t he told her?
And where did the other man fit into it all—and why had he let her believe he was someone he wasn’t? He was a prisoner, he’d said that much—
That had been what he’d said, hadn’t it? During their very first conversation in the waking world, when she’d found him in his study. She couldn’t remember the exact words he’d said. Maybe he hadn’t. Wording was so important with these blasted fae.
The whole mystery had something to do with the summer drought hanging over the Court. She was certain it did. She was missing vital information, and it wholly frustrated her.
She had no idea how to go about attaining the information she wanted, though. Short of outright asking, but Revi never answered her questions so easily as that. And the other man would almost certainly mislead her, even if he couldn’t lie outright.
No. She would have to suss it out herself. Maybe if Revi visited her dreams, she could sneakily gather information there. Or maybe she could go visit him during the day, if the healers would let her by. She’d had no luck with that as of yet.
Until he healed, her dreams would have to suffice.
If he ever returned to them.
Tonight, though, when she woke in her cottage, she found herself reaching for two cups again, and the habitual motion sent a spear of excitement through her. Her mind seemed to know when she would need a second cup before she did.
Sure enough, a knock came at the door only a few minutes later. Kienna threw it open and let herself drink in the sight of her prince. He was so familiar, with his long silver hair and glowing blue eyes, and yet...
“Are you all right?” She threw open the door. “Here, come sit.”
He stepped inside, hand clenching the doorframe for a moment before he moved to take his usual chair at the table. He didn’t say a word, his silence worrying her nearly as much as his leaning on his surroundings. He wasn’t chatty, necessarily, but he’d always greeted her before, or at least asked if he could enter. Never this stretching quiet.
She studied him as she gathered the tea. He was still inhumanly beautiful, still broad-shouldered, but it did seem like he was less there than usual. If he truly was Revi, then it made sense he’d be weak, still healing, in dreams as well as the waking world.
“You haven’t answered my question,” she said quietly, pushing a teacup across the table to him.
He lifted it to his lips and took a sip, eyes shutting as he swallowed. “Thank you.”
She curled her hands around her cup. What could she ask to earn the answers she ached for? He’d seen her with the other man. Maybe… “Did… did the beast have you punished? Are you injured?”
He blinked at her slowly, as if his mind was having trouble processing the question. Maybe he hadn’t assumed she thought the other man was her dream prince.
“I know he couldn’t have done anything to you himself,” she continued, “with how he’s...” She bit her lip. Here she was, most likely talking to the beast—to Revi—about his own injuries that were entirely her fault. He’d only fought those monsters to protect her. The thought pushed a wall of guilt up in her.
“And ‘how’ is he?” he asked, expression unreadable.
It wasn’t hard to produce a frown for him. She needed him to give her more clues. She needed to know if he was Revi, the beast. The Winter Prince. “He’s still unconscious. How do you not know this? Have they locked you away?”
He shook his head, something flickering in his gaze.
“No one will tell me anything.” Kienna rubbed her finger along the rim of her teacup. “Only that he’s injured and needs rest, then they send me on my way.”
His brows shot up. “You’ve tried to see the beast?”
“Yes,” she admitted. Would it upset him to hear she’d tried to visit him? He’d been angry with her, but understandably so, given that not keeping her promise had led to such catastrophic results. She wrapped her arms around her middle. Saying these things to him—if he was indeed Revi—left her feeling incredibly vulnerable. “He saved my life. Our lives. I thought... I couldn’t bear the thought that he was dying because of that.”
“I—” Her prince cut himself off and turned sideways in his chair, almost as if he wanted to get up and start pacing. “His injury isn’t your fault,” he said after a moment, not meeting her eyes. “He sustained it days ago, and the venom had time to work through his body before he returned to the healers.”
“Oh.” Relief warred with a new flood of worry with that news. It almost made her feel worse to know it was an old injury. No wonder he was still on bedrest.
But that sounded like knowledge only Revi or his healers would know. Could she trust it as a confirmation?
She peered at him, not wanting to miss even the most minute change to his expression. “I thought you didn’t know he was injured. Why would they tell you those details when they wouldn’t tell me?”
His jaw clenched, and his fingers tightened on the teacup, turning white.
When it became clear he had no intention of answering, Kienna blew out an irritated breath. “I wish... I wish there weren’t so many secrets here.”
“What secrets do you think there are?” he asked, an odd catch to his voice.
She jerked to standing. “Between the mysterious drought, the beast’s past, you, and my presence here, it all feels connected. Why? Why does he keep prisoners? He’s not cruel to—”
He cut off her tirade. “The beast doesn’t keep prisoners.” He looked almost hurt at her words.
She turned and stared at him for a moment. “What am I if not a prisoner? I’m treated well, but I’m trapped here. I wouldn’t even mind if it weren’t for you. You said yourself that you’re a prisoner. And the first time I found—” She stopped and choked. The words about finding the other man the first time wouldn’t come, no matter how she wanted them to. She switched tactics. Let him continue to believe she thought the other man was her dream prince. “Why did you say you were one before, but not now?”
“I have never told you I was a prisoner,” he said slowly, rising to his feet.
She threw up her hands in frustration; it was easy to do, considering her frustration was very real, even if she was leading him along on ideas she didn’t really hold. “That doesn’t make any sense! Perhaps you didn’t use those exact words, but you did.”
“I did?” His voice was incredulous, but then he froze, his entire countenance turning to stone. “Did I?” This time it came out as almost a whisper, the emphasis on the I. He didn’t even seem to be talking to her anymore.
She watched an entire play of emotions cross his face. Anger, disbelief, hurt. She bit her lip. Whatever realization her prince had just had, she could only guess at. Had he realized something about the other man’s role in all of this?
If only he’d share it with her, because she had no clue.
His movements abrupt, he turned toward the door.
“I must go.” He made it there in three strides, showing more energy than he had since arriving. He stopped with his hand on the door handle and turned back to her, his eyes seeking hers.
“Don’t trust your eyes,” he said. “Please. Please, trust me.”
A hysterical-edged laugh burst from her. This new world she found herself in was truly going to drive her mad. She’d gotten more reaction from him than ever before, but still he told her nothing. “You won’t even tell me your name. How could I trust someone who won’t trust me in return?”
Pain flashed in his eyes, and then he was gone. Kienna stood staring at the door long after he left, until she woke from her dream.