Page 36 of The Rose in the Shadows

Some women?

He raised an eyebrow imperiously at me. “Some days off.”

“Ah,” I sighed. Of course.

He crossed the room slowly, approaching a small bar cart and pouring us both glasses of red wine. I started to refuse, but bit my tongue. After that dinner, I certainly needed a drink.

“Is your father always that pleasant?” I asked him as I smoothed my skirts and settled into a small armchair.

I was happily surprised to see a mystery novel sitting dog-eared on the end table. So, he wasn’t all work and no play after all. Part of me wanted to pick it up and leaf through it, to see what kind of writing style my prince found to be intriguing, but I held myself back. It felt somewhat rude to go through someone’s things. Especially considering Clay and I weren’t necessarily friends.

He handed me a glass and took the chair across from me.

“Usually, he’s much more so,” he admitted a bit ruefully.

The wine was strong and bitter, and I fought the urge to grimace at my first taste. Still, I appreciated the slight burn in the back of my throat. Clay stared down at his, lost in thought.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, surprised by the softness in my voice.

He raised that eyebrow again, a silent invitation.

“It’s just that when you stood before me, it was like you expected him to hit me. Has he… hurt people like that before?”

Clay laughed darkly, downing his drink in a single quick gulp. He took my glass, also quickly finished, and refilled them both again. As he started talking, he kept his back to me. I suspected it was so that I wouldn’t be able to see the expression on his face. That only made me want to look at him more, though.

“You truly do not understand what is acceptable to say to a Crown Prince.”

“Perhaps not.”

I suspected that even after years at court, one day, I would still find myself saying improper things.

“You remind me a little of my mother in that way,” he told me.

As he returned and sat across from me once more, he kept his head down, eyes on the floor. I’d never heard Clay talk about his mother. I’d never heardanyonetalk about her before. There were no portraits of her hung in the castle either. That had always struck me as odd.

“She often felt frustrated by the rules of it all too, like you. And she hated the gowns as much as you do. When I was younger, we would go out together to the mountains around the castle. She was much happier exploring the kingdom than at the big parties. Every time we would reach the top of an outlook, she would look at it momentarily and remind me:never let the splendor of your castle cause you to forget the expanse of your full kingdom.”

“That’s good advice.”

He nodded solemnly.“Her marriage to my father had been arranged, of course. He was initially supposed to marry her sister Elira, Iris’ mother, but when he met the family to collect Elira, my father laid eyes on my mother and claimed her as his bride instead. Her parents were so honored at being welcomed into the royal family that they didn’t care which daughter was wed off. So they struck the deal, and my parents were married when she was sixteen.”

So young. Without meaning to, I shivered against the chill in the air and Clay, absentmindedly, grabbed an afghan off the corner of his bed and passed it to me. He didn’t make eye contact as he did so, almost as if he had done it without even realizing. Silently, I wrapped it around myself while I waited for him to continue.

“My father was older, twenty-four, at the time of their marriage. I’m sure you can imagine the husband he was to her. In his eyes, she had become his property from the second he had taken her from her home. Her only purpose was to decorate his arm and bear his children. I was born three years after their wedding.”

Clay cleared his throat, throwing back his second drink and leaning heavily into his seat.

“Around that time, the Great War was just beginning. My father was determined to produce a second heir should anything happen to me, but it didn’t happen. So, as the years went by without another pregnancy, my father’s treatment of my mother worsened. He was respectful in public, of course, but I would see healers leaving her room each morning.”

I didn’t move or even breathe as his story continued. Clay’s eyes glazed over as he spoke. He was here, with me, but he was also there - in another time and place.

“I was seventeen when the Great Battle of Athenia happened. I’d been in the gardens with my Aunt Elira and Iris whenwe realized what was happening. It had started with the fog. Deep, heavy fog from the Water and Air Elementals working together, making sight nearly impossible. Elira gathered what was happening before most of the guards even did. She rushed us into the castle, straight to my mother’s apartments. She was always protective of my mother in that way.”

“He was with her?”

Clay nodded. “The halls were empty, all the guards beginning to mobilize. I remember hearing them shout as they were looking for my father. But as we entered the halls of my mother’s rooms, we heard him yelling. It’s funny; I sometimes hear it again in my dreams, but I can never pinpoint what he’s saying. Elira started running. Iris and I followed. We were all too late. When Elira opened the door, he had my mother in his arms. He looked Elira right in the eyes before he threw her off the terrace.”

That was…. well that was positively evil.

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