Chapter 9 #2
His tone gave her courage. It was a dare, and if Mireille knew anything, it was that men on a gamble always had their tell.
* * *
She sat at the piano she had discovered during their palace tour—the very one she had avoided.
Gleaming instruments stood around them in silent witness, the blue and gold draperies nearly black in the moonlight.
Looking down at the keys before her, Mireille took a shuddering breath.
But Alder stood at her back, waiting, and she placed her fingers on the heavy ivory keys.
She could do it. It was only a simple song. She had done far more dangerous and daring things. Deciding on one she had played a hundred times before, she closed her eyes, but her fingers made a different choice.
Mireille nearly missed a note at the unexpected tune, one of the last songs she had played for her mother.
It had been a favorite. But she did not falter, letting herself sink into the music, her fingers moving without thought, always just where they should be.
The instrument was impeccable and her notes built to a devastating crescendo that echoed through the dark hall.
She had needed this, she realized, so lost in the fae world with only Thomas to anchor her to everything she had left behind.
She had needed the reminder of who she was, of what she had endured before and why it was so important to give her all.
The song tapered off, its final notes a receding tide.
Swallowing back tears, she managed a casual, “There, do you still find me so talentless?”
When Alder did not reply, she looked back at him.
He held her gaze, his dark eyes searching.
He said not a word, but lifted his hand.
She slid hers into it, their gazes locked.
Moonlight cut a sharp line across his features, a stark reminder that he was wholly fae.
But he only stood, keeping hold of her hand, his expression soft.
She rose from the bench, her body seemingly drawn to his of its own will, her heart hammering in her throat.
They were very close. They were very alone.
“Extraordinary,” he breathed.
Her lips parted, and his eyes tracked the motion. Then, as if suddenly remembering himself, he turned and precisely tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
Heat rose up Mireille’s neck as he led her from the room without a word.
In the study, Noal and Kin hovered near a table perfecting two place settings.
Alder released Mireille from his arm, stiffly gesturing for her to enter.
She no more than took a step inside, having given up discovering anything from the man after their encounter, when he cleared his throat, leaned in, and said, “I enjoy sculpture. And, it must be said, I am not terribly unskilled at it.”
She spun to ask him more, but he was already disappearing down the corridor, leaving Mireille to dine alone.
She let him go.
Noal approached, his interest plain.
Forcing a smile, Mireille said, “I believe I will take my meal in my rooms after all.” Eyes on the open doorway, she added, “But moving forward, this is where I will spend my evenings.”
* * *
Thomas eyed her skeptically. “He likes to sculpt ?”
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, glancing at the sealed door into the prince’s rooms, even though she doubted he was there.
Thomas whispered, “I don’t see how we can use this.”
“I will take anything at this point.” If Alder could only soften to her, to open up a bit, she might feel able to reveal precisely what she needed.
Thomas lifted a brow. “Fortunately, I have learned something a little more helpful.”
She sat forward. “Tell me.”
“I persuaded Kin to attain a proper wardrobe for you.”
Mireille glanced at the wardrobe, but her mind was on the sage green gown that Alder had, possibly, dreamed for her.
“But that is not the interesting part. Mid-undertaking, Kin hinted that the prince has bindings placed on him, and I do not mean by the existence of the Rive. Bindings separate from the curse, not on the land, but on the prince himself.”
“Are you certain that was her meaning?”
“Yes, because she was vehemently reluctant to reveal more, and I believe it’s connected to the fae queen herself.”
“Our fae queen?”
“The very one. It must have something to do with why he accepts any willing princess into his kingdom. It cannot be a coincidence one queen is entangled with you both.”
She straightened. “But that makes no sense. He cannot become king while the Rive stands. The boundary has him trapped. How would marrying a human princess change that?” If it could, he would have married long ago.
A hint of the confidence she hadn’t seen in so long slid across Thomas’s features. “Precisely. So what are the terms of the binding and how are they connected to the wedding bargain?”
Mireille stood to pace. Thomas was right.
She should have been less worried about discovering their rules and law, and more worried about why the prince had agreed at all.
“He said something about being forced to entertain the bargains. But if he has no true desire for a wife, why bring her into his home?”
Thomas leaned back into his chair.
The prince had vowed to protect Mireille. He had shared the wisteria tree. There must be a reason, something he stood to gain.
She just needed to discover what it was.