Page 23 of The Winter Prince

“Did you…” Revi said haltingly, taking his own place but not touching his meat. It had gone cold, and he found he disliked the idea of cold cooked meat even less than the idea of it warm. “What did you do today?”

At the question, Kienna stiffened. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on her fork before she stabbed it into a roasted vegetable. She didn’t look at Revi. “I went exploring a bit. I found an art studio.”

“Do you enjoy art?”

“Not particularly.” Her voice was oddly short.

Was she angry with him? Was that why she was lying? Revi’s claws pricked the fabric of the sofa before he forced himself to stop. Not every anger warranted a fight… and even if this anger did, he could not handle it with tooth and claw. He had a bargain to maintain. And beyond that, he found that even his usual predatorial instincts stayed quiet. He had no desire to harm her.

He thought over their recent interactions during the days, looking for any clue that would explain her strange behavior. Nothing came to mind. Their recent dinners had mostly been quiet. Their times in the library equally so as she read and he pretended to read but mostly enjoyed their companionable silence and listened to Kienna mutter as she studied his language—even helping her occasionally when she asked. It was good that Enlo didn’t spend time with them in the library, or he would have teased Revi mercilessly for his obvious fascination.

But no. He could think of nothing that would warrant her ire, and yet here she sat, irritated, perhaps even angry, about something.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” He had no desire to dance around the subject or her feelings. Getting it out into the open was far more efficient.

That question earned him a look; her eyes widened with shock, then narrowed in that strange, unexplainable anger. “Why do you keep me here? Do you enjoy imprisoning people? Is this some sort of twisted game to you?”

“Your father took my rose—”

“I know that,” she snapped, cutting him off.

He blinked, for a moment too frozen to react. He would have thought her too afraid of him to dare snap, but she had begun her tirade and there was no stopping her now.

“Why trap me?” she asked. “Why claim me for a yearand adayif you’re only going to send me back again? What purpose does it serve?” She threw a hand up toward the door. “Why—?” Her words cut off, and she froze, seeming like she was choking. She recovered herself with a large gulp from her water glass and crossed her arms. “I just want to understand. Zoya speaks highly of you when she dares to speak of you at all. You haven’t been cruel, and yet you keep u—me here. What benefit do you get from trapping people in your dying Court?”

With every word she spoke, Revi’s hackles raised. “I told you not to ask questions,” he growled.

“If you would provide more answers, I wouldn’t have to! Is it so terrible that I want to understand you? Understand this strange place that I have to call home for the rest of my year?”

“Perhaps you’ll just have to trust me.”

When he’d said that in the dream, she’d looked at him with affection, maybe even agreement. Now, she scoffed and crossed her arms. “Perhaps you should give me a reason to.”

He rose to a crouch, claws digging deeper into the sofa. Everything in him wanted to pounce at her, to fight in the only way he knew how. It would be so easy. She was so weak, this human.

No.

As she stared at him, a fiery light in her eyes, he pushed back against the dark, monstrous urgings in his mind. No, she might not be as physically strong as he was, but this woman was not weak.

Instead, he leaped from the sofa and started pacing in front of the window. He kept his breath shallow, doing his best not to pull in the scent of her, which only made his bestial instincts flare.

“Why is it so hard to answer my questions?” she asked. “Are you under some sort of magic?”

He huffed out a breath. No, his curse had no magic that forbade him to speak of it, but he was also certain that telling her of it would not make it any more likely to be fulfilled. If anything, knowing the expectations of the curse would only frighten her, push her away further. What woman would want to know that she was expected to marry a beast she hardly even tolerated? Still, a part of him found himself wanting to give her something. But what could he possibly give her that would satisfy her?

He hadn’t found the right words when she sighed. The motion deflated her, her anger trickling away to something closer to weariness.

“I don’t know why I bother,” she murmured, low enough that Revi was certain the words weren’t meant for him. “Never mind,” she said, raising her voice. “Come eat.”

He turned to look at her fully. She was twisted halfway around in her seat and gave him a taut smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to derail our dinner. I’m sorry for asking pointless questions.”

He slinked closer warily, but her expression didn’t shift back into anger, so he returned to his seat.

She picked up her fork again and took a bite of food. “If you’re unwilling to answer those questions,” she said after a moment, “perhaps you would answer another one for me?”

He stared at her, waiting. She chewed her lip.

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