Chapter 31
Thirty-One
“I know you took the passageway again. Where were you this time?” he asks.
“Tavern,” I say.
“Why?”
“I wanted to see an old friend.” I’m going to die anyway. I might as well just give parts of the truth.
“How is it that you have friends in Pendralia?” he asks.
“How did you know I’d be in here?” I counter while I scramble to come up with something believable.
“You weren’t in your room.” He sighs. “I already covered for you once. You owe me the truth.”
I swallow hard. He could take me in right now.
End everything. But he’s not. He’s asking for an explanation.
It’s more grace than I deserve. “She came with me on the journey here, but she didn’t return with the others.
She didn’t want to go back to Iskvaland.
In case you forgot, things aren’t exactly great for women there. ”
His eyes narrow as he studies me, as if he’s trying to determine whether I’m telling the truth.
“I’m sorry.” Guilt settles in my gut like a weight. “I figured it was my last chance to see her. I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Is she working at the Screaming Goat?” he asks.
“No, it was a place in the Point.” I clench my jaw the second the words leave my mouth. I should not know this much about Aurorium.
“She had a family connection.” I add, hoping it helps make it sound better.
I am in so much trouble.
“Red’s?” he asks.
I nod.
“That’s not a great place for a woman alone,” he says.
“Things in Pendralia aren’t much better for women than they are in Iskvaland, but at least she can work here. She rented a room. She doesn’t have to marry someone she doesn’t love.”
“Are you still talking about your friend?” he asks.
I stare at my feet, unable to meet his eyes.
“The prince has told me how much he enjoys your company,” he says. “How different you make him feel. How much he’s come to care for you. It might not be love, but there is worse.”
I don’t respond.
“Do you feel that toward him?” His tone is vulnerable.
“No.” I look up at him. “But I feel it for someone else, even though I know I shouldn’t.”
It’s low. Using the feelings I know he has for me to get out of this. If he hides this, like he hid it before, he’ll be keeping things from his own emperor to protect me. This isn’t how I should repay someone who’s saved my life. Twice.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“I know.”
“You’re going to get us both killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
He runs a hand through his hair and walks away from me. He shakes his head. He’s frustrated. I know how he feels.
When he turns back to me, he looks calmer. “Things between Caiden and me are…complicated. Having feelings for his bride is…”
My whole body feels alive at his words. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop myself. “Feelings?”
“But we can’t,” he says. “You know that.”
“I understand.” I hate it, but I know how dangerous this is. And it’s not just Caiden. It’s the betrayal Brevan will feel when he finds out the truth.
“I promise you, I will not use the tunnel again,” I say.
“They’re destroying it tomorrow.” He glances into the bathroom and sees the dress. “I’ll make sure the dress is gone before they arrive. But I swear to the gods, Sabina, I can’t cover for you again.”
“You won’t have to,” I assure him.
“Go to the library. Stay there. Read something that isn’t going to get you in trouble. If anyone asks, you’ve been there since training. I’ll be there soon to escort you to your rooms.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I owe you.”
“Yes, you do. Several favors at this point.” He blows out a long breath.
My cheeks heat again because I know what kind of favors I’d like to give him. I curse myself internally. I have got to stop thinking like a lovesick teenager.
“Go on.” He lifts his chin toward the door.
I leave without looking back.
I’m halfway through a book of fables when Brevan finds me in the library. “Caiden would like you to join him for dinner.”
I close the book and carry it with me. It can’t hurt for Caiden to see my new reading material.
I turn toward the dining hall.
“No, he wants to have dinner in your room,” Brevan says.
“Oh.” I turn the other direction, and the two of us finish our walk in silence.
I don’t say goodbye when I enter my room. It’s best for both of us that way.
Caiden is already waiting for me. The small table in my room is set for royalty. Someone brought in a black tablecloth and crystal candleholders that glitter in the soft light of the candles’ flames.
Silver and white plates and crystal goblets wait for us. Between the plates is a platter filled with meat and vegetables and potatoes.
“I heard you had quite the day today,” Caiden says.
“I did?” I hedge.
“Yes. Brevan told me it took nearly all morning to get you to hit the center of the target. He’s a bit obsessive, that one. Does it really matter where you hit your enemy as long as they go down?”
He picks up a bottle and pours ruby-red wine into each glass. “Please, sit.”
I settle in the chair he gestured to, and he sets down the bottle, then pushes my chair in before grabbing the book I placed on the table.
“Fables and Tales of the Shatterlands. I remember reading this as a child. Some of them frightened me quite a lot when I was small. You might want to be careful with this.”
“I won’t read it after dark,” I say.
He places the book on the small desk, then takes his own seat. “I suppose you should thank my father for summoning Brevan and cutting your training short.”
“Yes, I am grateful,” I say. “It was bad enough when it wasn’t raining.”
He sips his wine, then serves food for both of us. It’s odd to see him serving me instead of waiting for the servants to take care of everything.
“I wanted to spend some time with you tonight because I have to leave for a few days again.”
“Oh no, can’t someone else go?” I ask.
“I know, but I’ll return in time for the ball,” he says.
The ball was quickly approaching, which meant Darkfall was soon. I’d lost so much time already. “Alright, don’t be gone too long.”
“So eager,” he teases. “You know, you really aren’t what I expected at all.”
“I hope that’s a compliment,” I say.
“It is.”
“Then, thank you, and I feel the same about you,” I say.
He grins. “I know.”
We make small talk while we eat. About the weather and the lack of snow. About the tales I read in the book. About my favorite holidays in Iskvaland. Thank goodness I heard most of the stories when I was very young.
“I’ve never heard you speak Iskvalandian,” he says suddenly. “Your Pendralian is so perfect. It’s hard to believe you weren’t born here.”
“My father has had us speaking both as long as I can remember. And I had Pendralian nannies and tutors.”
“Say something in Iskvalandian,” he says.
I tense. This is a test. This isn’t random. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I force a smile, then in perfect Iskvalandian, I say, “It’s raining today and the weather is very gloomy. I miss the snow.”
Thankfully, my parents had insisted we learn Iskvalandian when we were young. We were so close to the border that there was ample time to practice. Some of our neighbors didn’t even speak Pendralian.
He smirks, then replies, in Iskvalandian, “You’re even more beautiful when you speak in your language.”
The compliment makes my stomach churn. I switch back to Pendralian. “I feel weird using it around here.”
“You can speak to me with it anytime,” he says.
When we finish eating, he calls servants to clear away the dinner things. They also build us a roaring fire. He sits on the couch that faces the fireplace, making himself at home.
My chest feels tight. He’s showing no indication of leaving my room anytime soon.
He sets a deck of cards on the table in front of the couch. “How about a round of poker? My father says it’s not a game for gentlemen, but I find it relaxing.”
I join him on the couch, careful to leave some space between us. “I’ve never played.” Lie. I am very good at this game. My brothers taught me far too young and conned me out of quite a lot of pocket money before our mother prohibited gambling in the house.
“I’ll teach you.” He shuffles, then deals, and goes through the task of teaching me how to play.
It’s a simple enough game, and I get the hang of it quickly. After our fourth round, he gathers the cards, shuffles, then sets the deck down without dealing.
Caiden moves closer and wraps his arms around me, his expression hungry.
I smell wine on his breath as he moves closer to brush the hair away from my face.
When he presses his lips against my neck, my eyes widen.
My insides are screaming and my skin crawls.
It takes everything I have to maintain calm.
He pulls the collar of my dress aside, then kisses my shoulder before moving to my collarbone, then back up my neck to my chin.
“You’re so tense,” he says. “I know you’ve done this before.”
I want to slap him. Instead, I shift enough to give me a little space. “It’s different with you.”
His expression darkens. I offended him.
“You’re a prince.” I reach for his face. “A future emperor. My future husband. What if you’re disappointed by me?”
“I don’t think we’ll have that problem.” He leans closer to me and presses his lips to mine.
I kiss him back, eyes open. It’s repulsive and I bristle, my whole body tense.
I feel like the walls are closing in on me.
Like the ceiling is lowering. Any moment I’m going to be crushed to death.
When he sweeps his tongue into my mouth it takes everything I have not to gag.
I used to think kissing was the same, that feelings didn’t matter. I was wrong.
He slides his hand up my side and cups my breast. The added sensation is too much and I pull away abruptly. Panting and wide-eyed, I must look insane. I touch my lips, trying to make it seem like I’m overwhelmed in a good way.
“See? You have nothing to worry about,” he says.