Page 59 of Wrath of the Never Queen

I pace my room back and forth, thoughts churning in my head. I do not know if I have any right to be angry at Theo or if I am simply overreacting.Hysterical, my father used to say. The word never used to bother me, but now it jabs at me like a thorn. Maybe Theo does have a rational explanation for his behaviour, and I should be putting my trust in him. Or maybe he is another version of his father—cruel but in quiet and insidious ways. How are you supposed to tell a beast from a man when they look the same?

I shake the last thought out of my head. If I am not my father, then Theo is not his. It is unfair of me to compare him when he has so far only been a gentleman and given me no reason to think he has an ulterior motive. I press my fingers to my temples, sighing. It is difficultto toe the line between healthy scepticism and complete paranoia.

Luckily, my tangle of thoughts is interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Enter,” I call.

Theo steps in, quietly shutting the door behind him. It is late into the night and the last thing we need is to alert the guards with unnecessary noise. Even him being here, in my chambers with me alone, is crossing a line. It would break the illusion I am at his beck and call, cowed to the prince.

I fold my arms across my chest and jut my chin out.

“Well?”

Theo fidgets awkwardly before gesturing to the bed.

“May I have a seat?”

I look between him and the bed before unfolding my arms with a sigh.

“Yes.” I nod and sit next to him. The bed sinks slightly under both our weights as we sit side-by-side, stiff and upright.

“Firstly,” he half-turns to me, “I am truly sorry. I would never want you to feel as though I am embarrassed of you, and I am angry at myself for doing so.”

“Theo, you act as though you are a different person when we are not alone. I do not understand it, and it is thoroughly vexing.” I lean forward and put my face in my hands, frustrated. “I do not know which side of you is real.”

“All the sides of me are real,” he replies, and I sit up to look at him. “When I am in sight of the guards, I am…Ihaveto be the prince and nothing else. Many of the people who work here understand my father is not a good man, but the guards…the guards report things to him.”

Worry starts to gnaw at me.

“What sort of things?”

Theo’s shoulders are hunched, and his face looks stricken.

“Who I am close to,” he answers quietly.

I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat.

“Is it just the guards?” I ask, thinking back on the times I have spent with the kitchen staff and the servants. “Does anyone else report things?”

Theo shakes his head.

“It is just the guards. The servants are invisible to my father—he does not even consider them unless for torment.”

I nod slowly, allowing myself a deep breath to calm my nerves.

“Shivani, I cannot have anything happen to you. I cannot,” Theo continues and reaches across to grasp my hand tightly. “Please, the guards must not know.”

I press my lips together before squeezing his hand back.

“Why did you not tell me?” I ask. “I wouldhave understood. Idounderstand.”

“I thought I could keep the illusion for the guards intact but I did not think how it would make you feel.” He hangs his head. “For that, I am so sorry. I…I wish I had an excuse, but it was simply a short-sighted mistake. I was too focused on trying to keep you away from…it does not matter. I am sorry.”

Theo looks at me, his eyes wide and earnest. A flood of affection for him washes through me for all he has done for me. I reach out and brush a brown lock from his forehead. He catches my hand and presses his lips against my palm, keeping his eyes on mine. My pulse quickens.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “You do not need to keep things from me.”

“I only…I wanted to protect you from the truth of it.”

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