Page 34 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

He gives me an exasperated look. “I want a truce, Candra.”

“A truce,” I echo, confused.

Nemeth nods, the movement proud and just a little stiff. “We are the only company allowed each other for the next seven years. I see no reason why we should be enemies. Why we should war against each other here inside this tower, when it would be far better to be friends.”

Friends. With a Fellian.

A man I just tried to kill. A man who has quietly nursed me back to health, who simply wants a truce. It makes me suspicious, but at the same time, it also makes sense. These past six months have been long and lonely, and it’s hard to do everything on my own. If we pool our resources, will it not be easier? Sitting by the fire together? Relying upon one another?

Having someone to talk to?

My throat tightens at how much I want that. But I try not to reveal too much in case there’s another hidden bargain somewhere in his words. “I suppose you make a good case.”

“I could ensure that you take your medication, too.” He reaches out and touches my arm, stroking a claw down the inside. “You’ve been mangling yourself.”

That soft, gentle caress takes me completely by surprise. My body clenches pleasurably, and I gaze down at the sight of his dangerous-looking claw teasing over my horribly bruised arm. “It’s difficult to shove a needle into yourself,” I admit. “And I’m not very good at it. My nurse had gentle hands, but I guess I’m impatient.”

“I’m not.” He runs that claw up and down my arm one more time and then pulls back. “If you trust me, I can administer it for you.”

His touch is slightly proprietary, and yet not all that unwelcome. Is it because he’s been caring for me? Or am I so lonely that even a Fellian is starting to look good? “And what do you want in return?”

He gives me a look of sheer exasperation. “Why do you think I always want something?”

I lift a finger into the air. “Because you’re a Fellian. “ Another finger. “Because you’re the enemy of Lios and I am a Lios princess.” A third finger. “Because you’re a man, and men always want something from women.”

Nemeth leans back on his stool, his jaw clenching in a way that makes those prominent lower canines jut out. “You think I have so little control over myself?”

“Youarea man.” I raise my brows at him. “And I seem to recall someone watching me in my bath with great interest.”

His craggy face creases and he laughs, shaking his head. Amusement is written all over his expression. “I seem to recall a princess who shamelessly soaped herself in front of me, practically daring me to say something.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I lift my chin. “There was no soap.”

He slaps his knee and laughs harder, the sound so booming that it reminds me of the thunder of last month’s storms. His smile is wide and genuine, and I begin to smile, too. I like his laughter. It feels like so long since I’ve had something to laugh or smile about, and I’m a happy person, damn the gods. Why am I doomed to be miserable here? Why can’t I be happy even if I’m trapped? Why not make the best of it?

Maybe that’s possible if we’re friends instead of enemies.

His smile fades a little and he gives me a rueful look, his hands resting on his big thighs. “I have had nothing but books for companionship these last few months. While it is keeping me sane, I would prefer the company of another person. You, my suspicious princess, are low on food and fuel. I am low on people to talk to. Can we not pool our resources and spend our time together?”

He makes it sound so good. I imagine Lionel’s expression when he hears I’m in the enemy’s bed. That I’m friendly with a Fellian. That he’s better at this “tower sacrifice” thing than I am. I would be banished from court for being a Fellian sympathizer. Not even the Vestalin bloodline would save me from his wrath. My sister Erynne would be furious at my disloyalty, too. The crown must be strong and unified in order to lead the people, and the Fellians are longtime enemies of Lios. She would be disappointed that I have not yet killed Nemeth. Erynne would have. Erynne always does the right thing.

And yet Lionel is not here. My sister is not here.

This tower is our world for the next seven years. Why spend it at odds?

I look at Nemeth, and then at his room, brimming with supplies and books. I compare it to my sparse pantry. “You realize I have a lot more to gain from our alliance than you do?”

“Does it matter?” He holds his hand out, palm up. “If you trust me, I trust you.”

That makes me bite my lip. “That’s the hard part,” I confess. “Trusting you.”

“Princess,” he says, and his tone is exasperated. “If I wanted you dead, I could have just let you die at my doorstep instead of spending the last few days nursing you back to health.”

Oh. That brings me up short. He’s absolutely right.

And I’m being a suspicious ass.

“You’re right,” I say, and put my hand into his. “I’m being unfair. Let’s be friends, shall we?”

---