I can’t help but grin. “I’d expect nothing less from the Crown Prince.”
His expression loses some of its light. It makes me feel as if I’ve said something wrong.
“What is it?” I ask. I shouldn’t care about offending him. After all, I’ve already said worse things to him without so much of a second thought.
“Nothing.” He flashes me a polite smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I know that’s not true.” My voice gets harder now. “Have I offended you?”
“No,” he says quickly, straightening his posture. “My feelings aren’t so easily hurt, I assure you.”
“Fine.” If he doesn’t want to tell me, then so be it.
We walk in silence for a moment. It hangs heavy between us.
Then, Viridian exhales. “It’s—well, everyone seems to expect so much of me. As they should, I am the Crown Prince, after all.”
I lift my gaze and can’t help but look at him while he speaks. His expression is genuine, as if he’s beginning to lower his mask.
“But they only see me as the heir to the throne. No one, not even my father, sees me as simply Viridian.” He slows, and it even affects his stride. “My mother, she was the only one who saw me like that. Just Viridian.”
“What happened to her?” I ask. I know that the High Queen died some time ago, but I don’t know the cause.
“I was very young. I was going to have a sibling, so I’m told. She—” he swallows. Pain gathers in his expression, tightening his features. “She didn’t survive. Neither did the child.”
I press my lips together, unsure of what to say.
“I understand that feeling,” I tell him at last. “When my sister, Acantha, was born, I lost my mother. One life for another, I suppose.”
Viridian turns to me, his stare bearing into mine. His eyes widen slightly, like he didn’t expect me to share in his grief. Like no one had ever looked past his bloodline, his position, and seen him for who he is.
“I’m sure you love your sister very much.”
“I do.” I offer a small smile. “I miss her dearly.”
Viridian goes quiet again.
I turn my face away and look to the castle grounds instead. There are more flower beds and clusters of thick rose bushes out here than there are in the courtyard. At the edge, farther off in the distance, a line of dense forest envelops High Keep.
Viridian’s stone-faced demeanor returns. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that there’s to be a ball hosted in our honor.”
“Is there?” My stomach already pools with dread.
“Yes. To celebrate our engagement.”
“Ah. I see.”
“You don’t seem enthused.”
“I’m not one for dancing. Nor lacy gowns.” Loren was the only thing that made the festivals in Slyfell of any enjoyment. He’d grab my hand with that boyish grin on his face and pull me all the way to the town square with a tankard of ale in his other hand.
But Loren won’t be with me at the ball.
No, he’ll be locked away in that cell, trapped in the dark behind unforgiving steel bars. And I’ll be in a room full of noble fae who think I’m beneath them.
How exciting, I think dryly.
“If it’s any consolation,” Viridian says, silencing my thoughts, “I won’t be enjoying myself either. I’ll only attend to maintain appearances.”