Page 105 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

I try to keep my wince internal. “I listen to Mary complain, is all.”

He thoughtfully considers the board, then places his piece. He seems to take more time with each placement, as though I give him more challenge than I did at first. “You are right, Nat. I shouldn’t think of myself in this potential marriage. My concern ought to be for her, whether she is comfortable, respected, cared for, and amenable to the marriage itself.”

It’s better I keep my mouth shut and not betray myself any more than I already have.

“Your sister . . . She is not married, correct?” Rahk asks.

I shoot a playful glare up at him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

He laughs. I bask in the satisfaction of that moment, but a very unpleasant emotion niggles at the back of my mind as I make my move. If he marries, he won’t play Fool’s Circle with me. He’ll take his supper privately with his wife, probably.

His wife.

I want to shake out of my skin at the discomfort of that thought. It feels so ironic that Lord Oliver warned me so thoroughly against the infamous fae coming to town and how he might want me as a bride. Now here I am, the most suitable of wives for him, and yet wholly unable to claim that privilege.

Did I just think of it as a . . .privilege?

Saints, I’ve let myself forget my own head. I don’t have to survive as Rahk’s servant for much longer. I only have two and a half weeks before I turn twenty-one. Soon I’ll be able to go back to my life, with my fortune, and I’ll be free of Agatha’s influence.

It doesn’t matter if Rahk marries. I will probably be gone before he does anyway. I will miss him—a thought that feels like a betrayal of all the human slaves still imprisoned in Faerieland—but it will be good to put distance between us. He shows me so much overt favoritism, and aside from Mary and the staff back at Vandermore Manor, it’s been so long since someone cared for me without regard for my money. I’ve let it matter more than it should.

“Mary hasn’t enough influence or money to tempt someone like you,” I say, trying to fill the silence between us. “Though she has better character than anyone you’ll meet at those fancy balls.”

He sighs. “I’m afraid I cannot marry for character, and certainly not for love. Influence is what I need, if I am to be accepted by the queen.”

“You’ll not get influence if you cannot properly count the rhythm of a waltz.”

“I have mended the error of my ways. I shall never count it sostiltedagain.”

I snicker, searching the board for any alternative to losing yet again. “You should find a proper teacher. You’ve got lots of money.”

The crinkle of the skin near his temples turns his gaze sly. “Why should I? You make an excellent womanly partner.”

The comment strikes me so hard I blush furiously, more from fear of discovery than anything else. He sounds like he’s goading me, and if I didn’t know better . . .

No, he cannot know I am a woman. He would say something. He would probably yell at me, enraged at being deceived. No, he cannot know. He’s only trying to goad me by poking myboyishpride.

I scowl and hope he doesn’t notice the color of my skin. I decide to change the subject back on him. “So if you are thinking of marrying, does that mean you plan to stay in the human lands indefinitely?”

Rahk moves his pieces. “I do not know. That is, I will go back to Nothril. Imustgo back.”

There is something about the way he says it that makes me pause. “You are not sure if you want to.”

He freezes. It is only for one moment, but that moment tells me a wealth of information. His black eyes flick up to mine—as if to check if I caught his slip. “I must go back,” he repeats. “This time, here in Harbright, has been a reprieve. Perhaps to you that seems strange, considering the assassins’ recent attack, but truly, I . . . I have enjoyed these three weeks.”

“What takes you back?” I ask.

He chews on his lip. “My youngest sister needs my protection.”

“Is someone trying to hurt her?” I do not expect him to answer my question. It is none of my business. But I get the sense he wishes to have a confidant. I wonder if he has ever had one before.

“My parents will probably kill her, eventually,” Rahk replies.

His honesty shocks me. “What? Why?”

“She does not conform to Nothril’s standards. She is not vicious or cold. She is sweet, adventurous, and a little stupid. If she does not learn to behave, they will cut her down. I do what I can to protect her, but I often fear it will not be enough.”

I often fear it will not be enough.The sentiment rings in my ears, reminding me of the inevitable end of my work as the Ivy Mask. The work Rahk will end himself. I don’t know how I can leave it behind, knowing so many others haven’t been saved.

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