Page 119 of A Court Bright and Broken

“Honestly, I didn’t really give it much thought,” he confessed. “It’s just how things have always been. And I know they’re well treated. They live much easier lives than most of the peasants outside the castle walls, based on what you’ve told me.”

The space around my heart seemed to harden, which made me realize how soft it had become in the past week or so, being taken care of by Stellon.

“I think we have different definitions of ‘easy.’”

He stepped forward and placed his hands lightly on the outsides of my shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I wish you’d never had to hear about that. I wish you’d never had to be exposed to my father at all. I’ll take care that it never happens again.”

“I’m not sorry I know,” I said. “Now I can try to do something about it.You’reobviously not going to.”

“What can I do? He’s the King,” Stellon said.

“And you’re his heir whom he loves and respects. Can’t you talk to him? Help him see how wrong it is?”

Stellon’s entire face tightened into an unwilling mask. “I can’t do that.”

“You can, but you won’t,” I said. “There’s always a choice.”

He shook his head. “Not in this situation. I’m sorry, Firebug.”

I shrugged away from him. “Don’t call me that.”

Hobbled by my ankle, I did my best to put some distance between us, going to one of the settees and pulling a lap blanket over me.

Stellon followed my slow escape and took a seat on the matching settee opposite me. His expression was pure dismay as he looked at me.

“I don’t like it,” he said. “I’ve never felt entirely comfortable about it, which is why I haven’t partaken.”

There was a long pause before he continued. “But you’re right. That doesn’t entitle me to any sort of praise. I just… I’m not sure what to do about it.”

Though his tone was contrite and his expression sorrowful, I couldn’t allow myself to soften again toward him.

No matter how gentle and kind he’d been to me, Stellon was Elven first and foremost. An Elven prince.

His first loyalty was to his people and his father—and they were just as bad as I’d always been warned.

Maybe he hadn’t partaken of the “companionship” available from the king’s personal harem himself, and hesaidhe didn’t approve, but he wasn’t willing to actually do anything about it.

In my view, doing nothing to stop evil was just as bad as committing the evil yourself.

Bottom line, I couldn’t trust him.

“Please believe me, Firebu—Raewyn. I’d end the practice if I could. When I’m king, I will. You have my word.”

“And when will that be?” I asked.

His eyes looked even more regretful. “I don’t know. We’re immortal, except for in the case of violence. The crown will transfer to me when my father decides he’s ready to step down.”

I huffed a laugh devoid of humor. “So what you’re saying is the practice could go on forever—or at least for many human generations more. The women in your father’s ‘collection’ will spend their whole lives there.”

“Well, not their whole lives,” he argued. “Once they reach a certain age…”

His words died off as he apparently thought better of finishing what he’d been about to say.

I completed the thought for him. “Once they reach a certain age, and he no longer finds themattractive, he turns them out on the street. Right?”

Stellon nodded.

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