Page 56 of Until the Stars Fall

She raised her chin to look at me with all the haughtiness of a princess instead of a servant. “You have nothing good in your life, do you? So you can’t let anyone else have anything good either. Especially your brother!”

My resolve vanished.

Before I could think better of it, my hand was at her throat. Pivoting, I drove her back against the wall. Then I released her neck, slamming my hands against the wall on either side of her head. I was in her face in an instant, so close that her shaky breath warmed my skin.

“You know nothing. Nothing!” I hit the wall again, and she flinched. I lowered my voice to a deadly whisper. “Everything I do is to make life better for everyone else. Everything I do—everything I sacrifice—is for the peace and security of our country! Do not presume to know anything about my life. Or about me.”

Lieke only stared at me in silence. She swallowed hard once, wetting her lips as if she were readying to speak, but she didn’t.

“Next time you interfere, Blondie, I’ll drag you before the king myself. You want to remain here? Stay out of the damned way.”

CHAPTER 26

Lieke

What had I been thinking, confronting the prince? Why had I pushed him like that? Who did I think I was?

I remained in the guest room long after he left, replaying the entire encounter in my head. I’d never witnessed that side of Connor—except once, that night when he’d shifted into his wolfhound form. As I lifted my hand to my neck, to the spot where he’d grabbed me, I wondered why I hadn’t been scared of him just now. Shouldn’t I have been?

Something in his eyes—despite the anger I’d obviously stoked—had put me at ease. Well, as much at ease as I could be with a powerful fae prince intimidating me in a dark room. Even when he’d grabbed me and pushed me against the wall, he hadn’t hurt me.

Stars, why could I not stop thinking about his hand on my throat? What was wrong with me?

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut, desperate for the memory to leave me alone before my core traitorously warmed again. I drew in a deep breath, but the scent of Connor’s cologne had transferred to my shirt, making it impossible to be rid of him. As a distraction, I focused instead on what he’d said. I was naive. I didn’t know anything. I needed to stay out of the way.

Or I’d be dismissed.

Stars, what had I done?

My gut lurched as I thought of how close I’d come to being thrown out of the palace. Sure, I missed Raven and her family, and they would no doubt welcome me back. But this was my home.

Logically I understood all Connor had said—about their duty and the sacrifice required of him and his brother—but I couldn’t let go of this idea that it didn’t have to be that way. Surely a prince should be able to choose who he married?

Even if it’s a mortal servant?

You’re reaching for the damned stars,I told myself, sighing.

I was yearning for something that couldn’t be mine, no matter what Brennan wanted.

I needed to let him go for good this time.

I couldn’t see him again.

My chest ached at the notion, and my shoulders curled in as if to protect my heart from the pain. How in the stars did I expect to stay here in this palace without seeing him? Or his damned brother?

No. I would find a way. I had to find a way.

But why did I want to stay in a home tainted with memories of Brennan?

Sure, I’d done so for years after his mother died, but there had always been some hope that one day our separation would end, he’d remember we were friends, and he’d stop pretending I didn’t exist. But now it was different. Now there was no hope. He was to marry another. He’d never be mine.

Growling in frustration, I lifted my face toward the ceiling and rolled my shoulders.

“Smile,” I said aloud, as I had every day since my mother’s passing. Life could be over at any time, and I didn’t want to waste too much of it fretting over things I couldn’t change. Closing my eyes, I thought of her and the way she used to brush my tears away and say, “It’s good to feel things, sweet girl. It’s how we know we’re alive. As long as we have breath in our lungs, we have reason to be thankful, for it means we still have time to make a difference and have a chance to be someone else’s joy.”

I could do this, because the alternative—leaving and never coming back—was unacceptable.

Taking one more deep breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, making my way down the servants’ stairs toward the staff quarters. Assuming I hadn’t lost all track of time while contemplating my predicament, I would find Mrs. Bishop on her break in her room rather than in the kitchen. Whether she would grant my request was another concern entirely, but I had to at least ask.

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