Page 86 of Bride of the Fae Prince

“Oh?”

“Now, I’m still not convinced it was necessary for you to risk yours in the process, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

His eyebrows lift in surprise, and his grin widens. Is it my imagination, or is a little color returning to his cheeks? “Not necessary? How would people know someone had tried to poison you?”

“You could have simply announced it. Perhaps sent the goblet off to be inspected.”

“And what sort of story would that make in comparison to me dropping to the floor and almost dying?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Drama isn’t the only thing that will accomplish your goals.”

He places a gray hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Me? Dramatic? Why, the notion!”

“My lord!” The washroom door swings open, and there’s Edvear, glaring fiercely at Ash. “You are supposed to be in bed!”

Ash shoots him a narrow look, even as his shoulders shudder. “I gotdistracted.”

“To bed with you! You mustn’t overtax your body.”

Ash waves his hand as though batting away an irritating fly. “I know my limits.”

The look the steward tosses me says,“No, he doesn’t. Try to convince him to rest, will you?”

Then Edvear pulls the door shut, leaving Hylath in the washroom as he marches off to the kitchen, disappearing behind a corner.

“You should go to bed,” I say to Ash.

“Come with me.”

Those words, spoken so quietly, almost too quietly for me to hear, send a bolt of lightning through me. I whip my head up, meeting his gaze. He’s still that ghastly gray, and he leans so heavily against the wall I’m afraid he won’t be able to make it the few steps to the bedroom. Though his face is lined with pain, there’s something earnest, and almost . . .fragileabout his expression.

“Only for tonight,” he adds. “I just . . .”

I wait, hardly breathing, for him to finish that sentence. He doesn’t, and I stare up at him, tongue-tied, not sure what to say or do now. Am I allowed to say no? What would I be saying yes to?

“You’re poisoned,” I say, not even sure what I mean by the statement.

“It’s not contagious, if that’s what you fear.” He gives me a little smile. “I’d even put on clothes. Just for you.”

“I’ll . . . think about it.”

He gives a slow nod, as though this is what he expected. Then he pushes off the wall, almost stumbles, and makes his way to the bedroom. I stay where I am as he shuts the door behind him, presumably to dress.

What now?

Perhaps I am trying too hard to understand what is happening around me. Maybe I should just shrug my shoulder and say,“Well! Just another evening in which my husband drinks poison meant for me. On to tomorrow!”

But part of me feels rather inclined to grab a pillow and scream into it.

“My lady?” Edvear returns to the room, a steaming tray in his hands. “I assume you had little to eat at dinner. I shall leave this for you in the dining room, should you be hungry.”

My empty stomach gurgles. I clap a hand over it, and now I’m the one catching hold of the back of a chair to keep my balance! It’s as though the mention of food makes my body suddenly remember that it’s been hours since I last ate.

Edvear hardly sets the tray on the table before I sit down. He leaves me to eat, and eat I do. I set into the stewed rice and venison with more vigor than any princess should, but I am much too exhausted and alone to care about such things. There’s a cup of warmed chocolate goat’s milk on the side that is utterly divine. I gulp it down greedily.

When I’m finished, the steward slips out of the hallway and comes toward me. I dab my mouth with the napkin and look up, waiting expectantly.

“He is asleep, my lady.”

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