Page 67 of A Court Bright and Broken

Of courseIhad none, but thathadto be Prince Stellon’s glamour.

Maybe both brothers had it.

The kiss had been so unexpected there had been no time to reach into my purse and apply the poison to my lips first.

And now I had evenlessdesire to do so than before.

All I wanted was to continue drowning in these delicious sensations for the rest of my days.

But we were alone. It was dark.

And there was no one around to see.

Stellon’s guard was clearly down. An assassin couldn’t hope for a better set of circumstances.

If I was going to do it, now was the perfect time.

There is no if.I have to do it.

I would tell him I needed a moment, touch my own lips with the powder, then ask him to kiss me again.

After the poison took effect, I could push Stellon’s lifeless body over the wall where it wouldn’t be found until at least the morning. It would plunge into the dark sea–or maybe strike the jagged rocks lining the shore.

Then I’d be free to move on to Pharis.

The wordNOscreamed inside my head and echoed through every part of my body.

It might not have even been a sound, more a loud, overpoweringfeelingof resistance. It was followed by a sick sensation in my stomach.

Stellon had been kinder to me tonight than any man ever had been. He was not the cruel, callous prince that had been described to me. And the poor thing was obviously under some sort of love spell concocted by the Earthwife.

He had no idea the interest he felt in me wasn’t real. How could I even think of killing someone so vulnerable?

Think of Papa. Think of the girls. They’re vulnerable, too.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away and never look back. But I had no choice.

Pressing a hand to Stellon’s chest, I created some distance between us and broke the kiss.

“I… need a moment,” I said. “I’m afraid my lips are rough and dry. I need to apply some balm.”

Feeling as if my heart was lined with lead, I delved a hand into my bag and started thumbing the cork off one of the vials.

Stellon’s voice was soft. “I assure you they’re not. Your lips are—”

A loud, facetious voice interrupted.

“Soft as star-poppy petals? Tender as a kitten’s nose?”

It was Pharis, moving quickly toward us across the lawn. He barked a bitter laugh. “Come on brother, you can do better than those old, tired lines.”

Stellon stiffened and turned, taking my hand in his and pulling me to his side.

At the sight of Pharis, a rush of relief nearly buckled my knees. Which made no sense. Based on his ground-eating stride, he’d figured out my true identityandmy nefarious mission.

But when he reached our position, he didn’t even bother looking at me. His sly smile was reserved solely for Stellon.

“Getting a little fresh air, are we?”

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