Page 119 of A Thieving Curse

“Prince Tristan.” Raelyn placed her free hand on top of his soft hair. “I forgive you.” She dropped her hand back to her side.

“Thank you.” With a small sigh of relief, he released her hand and stood—uncomfortably close. “So I…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been informed it’s not customary among the Eynlaean nobility for wives to call their husbands my lord. I don’t understand. But…I would be honored if you called me Tristan.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just said, “Thank you, Tristan.”

He placed his hand on her waist and she sucked in a breath. He winced. “I wish I’d done so many things differently, Raelyn.” He brushed his fingertips over her hairline and lifted her chin. “I was blinded by my anger and pain.”

She watched him silently, unsure what to say and wishing someone else was present. Surely he knew it wasn’t appropriate for them to be alone. She leaned back against the door, but he didn’t drop his hand from her chin or waist.

He traced his thumb over her lips. Her face heated as her throat tightened. “My wife should be the person I trust most,” he murmured. “The person I can count on, without fail.” His thumb moved to the side of her chin, and she tried to relax her taut muscles. “How can I trust you when you hate me?”

Raelyn took a deep breath. She needed to be diplomatic. Part of her did hate him. But she had chosen to forgive him.I will be kind.“I told you. I forgive you. And I don’t hate you.”

“Then you are prepared to marry me when the Court of Lords won’t make him king? To be my wife, mine alone?” His gaze bored into hers, pained, but also searching. Hoping.

She swallowed. “If that’s the outcome. Yes.”

Tristan leaned toward her. His hand left her chin and rested on the other side of her waist. Her heart thudded like a trapped animal. “Kiss me, Raelyn.” His mouth hovered just above hers. “Like you did on Klainar, but for me. Make me believe you’ll be my wife.”

She hesitated as his breath warmed her face. “I will if we get married.”

“Whenwe get married.” He didn’t move, his lips still inches from hers. “You have to realize he doesn’t have much chance. You may as well kiss me now.”

“When, then.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door as despair at his confidence dragged down her heart. “I’ll kiss you when you’re my husband.”

“This isn’t about punishing you or Alex. Please.” The genuine pleading in his voice surprised her. Raelyn opened her eyes, but Tristan’s were closed. His lower lip touched hers. She braced herself, but he stepped back and released her waist, opening his eyes. His mouth set into a hard line. Slowly, he withdrew a flat rust-colored stone from his belt. “My father gave me this. Before I came over here.” He stared down at the rock, running his thumb over the lines of runes engraved on its surface.

“What is it?” she asked, nervous about the answer.

His gaze snapped to her face, then fell back to the stone. “Security.”

“I don’t under—”

“My father told me the truth.” He worked his throat. “About the poisons he researched, the witch he consulted, and the dragon curse that could only be broken by blood spilled in self-sacrifice.” Tristan laughed bitterly. “And clearly that boy getting shot and breaking the curse was my fault. Another example of my ineptitude.”

A horrible feeling grew in Raelyn’s gut. “What’s the stone, Tristan?”

Tristan turned it in his fingers. “My father bought several enchanted talismans of various uses from that witch. Just in case.”

Raelyn’s heart pushed against her throat, and she reached for his hand. “You can’t curse him—”

“No.” Tristan clutched the rock. “It’s not a curse, and it’s not for Alex.” He lifted his eyes to hers, warring emotions she couldn’t interpret filling their depths. “It’s a love spell.”

She stopped breathing. Her knees locked. She tried to open her mouth, to beg him not to use it, but her tongue refused to work. Her lungs burned, and finally she gasped, her breaths frantic.He wouldn’t. Would he?

“You’d love me,” he said, his voice tense. “Be utterly devoted to me. You wouldn’t even glance Tallon’s way again. I could order you to tell the Court of Lords you hate him and think he deserves to die, and you’d do it.”

Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor with a sob. Tristan sat on the floor in front of her as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please,” Raelyn begged. “Don’t.”

“You wouldn’t even remember that I used it, according to my father.” Tristan turned the enchanted stone over in his hand. “Can you imagine the look on my perfect, cocky cousin’s face? Seeing you kiss me, love me, say you hate him?” A bitter edge laced his tone.

No.This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t do this. She bit her quivering lower lip. He’d bound her, cut Alex’s back, and threatened to punish Gareth. Now this. She shouldn’t have forgiven him. Tristan was just like his father: wicked, grasping, selfish.

He sighed and grabbed her hand.

“Wait! I…” She desperately searched for something to dissuade him as she tried to pull her hand from his grip.Father and Mother’s room is next door.“Help!” she screamed. “Someone—”

“No one can hear you,” Tristan said heavily. “These walls are thick stone.”

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