CHAPTER NINE ISI #2
“Of course you were.” I reached for my wine and took a long drink. “I’m afraid I’m not fond of strawberries. Otherwise, I would’ve gladly taken a bite.”
He eased back in his chair, shooting a look of triumph to the other men.
The temperature in the room rose. A bead of sweat formed on Crestin’s temple and trickled down to his jaw.
Trew’s magic was bleeding through his control, and if I didn’t get control of my own, this charade would collapse.
“Father,” I said. “These gentlemen have been lovely company, but perhaps you and the lords would prefer to adjourn to your study for drinks? I find I’m quite full and would like to retire to my rooms.”
“Nonsense. Our guests came all this way to visit with you. We mustn’t be rude.”
We? As if I had any choice in this.
Servants appeared with yet another plate, this one bearing a chocolate confection decorated with gold leaf.
Lord Crestin leaned forward again, his voice pitched for my ears alone. “You take after your poor, departed mother.”
The mention of her sent ice through my veins. I remembered her body at the base of the stairs, crumpled and still, the day I lost her forever.
“You knew her?”
“Briefly, when I was much younger.” His eyes gleamed. “She had your spirit. Your fire. It’s what killed her in the end.”
“My mother died from a fall down the stairs,” I said carefully. “It was an accident.”
“Did she?” His smile was much too knowing. “How interesting. I thought I’d heard…”
“Heard what?”
“Oh…nothing.”
Before I could say anything further, Finley grabbed my hand, bringing it to his lips. But he didn’t just kiss it. He traced his tongue across my skin.
“I look forward to knowing you better, Princess,” he said.
I wrenched my hand away, and my magic exploded. Every candle in the room snuffed out at once, plunging us into darkness broken only by moonlight cutting through the windows.
Gasps echoed around the table. China rattled.
My father’s voice bit through the darkness. “Servants. The candles. Now.”
Footsteps scrambled, and one by one, the candles flickered back to life.
My father’s eyes had locked on me.
“Perhaps the princess is tired,” he said, his voice deceptively mild.
“Such a long day, and she’s still recovering from her travels.
” He rose from his chair, and everyone else scrambled to stand as protocol demanded.
“Gentlemen, I think we should let her retire. She’s only recently returned from the cluster.
I’m sure she’ll have much to consider after tonight’s lovely conversation. ”
In other words, start preparing your offers.
He glared my way. “We’ll discuss your impressions first thing in the morning, daughter.”
In other words, you’ll choose one of them at that time.
I stood and turned toward the door, my throat closing off. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Father.”
He lifted his hand toward Trew. “Blain, escort my daughter to her chambers. Ensure she’s comfortable but…”
I paused, not turning back, not daring to look my father in the eye.
“I understand you entered her suite earlier today,” my father said in the stern tone of an overprotective parent.
“She saw a mouse,” Trew said blandly. “I found it and removed it from the premises.”
“From now on, leave such tasks to her ladies. They’re more than capable. You will remain in the hall or near the door inside her sitting room but the latter only if her ladies are present.”
This was a test. He suspected something, and he was watching to see how Trew would react.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Trew’s voice betrayed nothing.
I curtsied to my father and the lords and headed for the door on legs that wavered like water.
Trew fell into step behind me.
I could feel his rage in the heat against my back. Could sense the barely restrained violence coiled in his muscles. Could hear the careful control in his breathing, the measured cadence of his footsteps.
We were both about to shatter.
Pherin soared through an open window as we passed, landing on my shoulder.
Guards watch. Track, she said. Someone in shadows down hall. Also watch.
They were everywhere.
Finally, we reached my door.
Trew moved ahead, opening it with a hand that was perfectly steady despite the tremor I knew he must be suppressing. He stepped back, creating the proper distance.
Our eyes met.
Everything we couldn’t say hung between us. All the fury and fear and desperate need to touch, hold, and confirm the other was real and still theirs.
“Goodnight, Your Highness,” he rasped.
“Goodnight.”
I stepped inside, and the door closed between us.
Through the barrier, I heard his ragged breath, the sound of a man drowning in everything left unsaid.
I pressed my palm against the door. The barrier hummed with his and my magic meeting in the middle, seeking connection despite the separation. Heat bloomed beneath my hand, and I could swear he was pressing his palm against the same area, though he wouldn’t. It would be too dangerous.
Burn down castle, Pherin said. Tear them apart. Rip out father’s heart.
Her fierce loyalty reminded me so much of Trew that tears burned my eyes.
I leaned my forehead against the door, my breath fogging the polished wood. So little separated us, yet we might as well have stood on opposite sides of an ocean.
“I’m here,” I said, hoping he’d hear me. “I’m still here.”
On the other side, I swore I heard his breath catch. The wood between us warmed, our magic intertwining where we could not. “I know, Minx. I feel you.” His voice came out soft, though scraped raw. “Every second. Every breath. They touched what’s mine today.”
“I felt you watching. Felt you burning.”
“Tomorrow,” he said, the single word carrying the weight of everything he wanted to do, everything he wanted to destroy to keep me safe. “Tomorrow.”