Page 125 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

Inch by inch, I ease myself down from the lattice to the ground. It’s long after midnight before I return to Rahk’s estate, but the bedroom is as empty as I left it. I shut myself in the servant’s chamber and find sleep as elusive as ever.

I curl up in a ball and growl angrily at myself, “You’re not allowed to cry over this. You knew Agatha didn’t love you, and you knew Bridget and Edith didn’t either. This only proves what you’ve long suspected. So it’s good. This is good.No. Crying.”

I smash away the one disobedient tear like it is a mosquito come for my blood.

Chapter 38

Kat

ThoughIsearchRahk’schambers high and low, I find nothing to wear except my usual servant’s uniform. I pull on those clothes, complete with the chest binding because I have no other suitable undergarments besides what I wore beneath my wedding gown—which is nowhere to be found.

With a sigh, I rake a hand through my short hair, grown out to an awkward length, and emerge from the bedroom. I feel like a prison inmate rebelling against orders, despite knowing I am—theoretically—the lady of this house now.

Edvear is the first person to see me. He is in the storeroom with a ledger and a quill in his mouth as I return from visiting the outhouse. His ears turn sharply backward. “My lady—”

Rahk steps around the corner just then, the purpose of his stride indicating he is heading somewhere, but at the sight of me, he stops and does a double take. “Why are you wearing those clothes?”

He sounds angry, like I’ve defied him in the worst of ways.

Instinctively, I fall back a step. “Because there was nothing else . . .?”

Rahk’s ire whirls at once on his steward. “Edvear! Did no one think to get Lady Katherine’s clothes? Bring them at once.”

Edvear turns tail and disappears, his hooves clopping all the way down the hallway.

“Please pardon the oversight,” says Rahk, drawing my attention back up to him. His hair is tied back at the nape of his neck, and though he wears human styled trousers, his tunic is one of the long ones he brought from Faerieland. It’s probably more comfortable.

I shrug. “I don’t mind.”

I intend to walk past him, but he steps into the hallway, blocking my path so my only alternative is retreat. He frowns down at me. I cross my arms over my chest, and after delaying, I find I have no choice but to drag my gaze to his.

“If you’re so bothered by my clothes, give me one of those long tunics. It’ll look more like a dress on me. Albeit one at a very scandalous length, but if I kept my trousers on—”

He waves a hand. “You’re troubled by something.”

I chortle. “An astute observation, my lord.”

“Katherine—”

A flash of red hair at the end of the hallway immediately drags my attention away. Is that . . .? “Mary!”

She balances a basket of laundry on one hip, but when she sees me, a bright grin bursts across her face. She sets down the laundry just as I barrel into her arms.

“What are you doing here?” I cry. “Oh, I amsoglad to see you!”

“Lord Rahk sent an offer of employment to me yesterday and paid off my contract with Lady Duxbury Vandermore. I am to be your handmaiden. Now what are you wearing?”

I turn around to find Rahk watching us. He stands there so severely, arms crossed over his chest, face utterly unreadable, and yet there almost seems to be a question in his gaze. I don’t know what to say to him. I want to thank him, though that itself feels too insufficient, but I also don’t want to bother him after all the trouble I’ve put him through.

I cannot bear the shift between blankness and slight emotion in his black eyes, so I whirl back to Mary. “Edvear is getting my other clothes, but I hope he’s slow about it. Trousers are very comfortable.” Though the chest binding isn’t so much.

Mary clears her throat and bobs a curtsy to Rahk. “I will return to my work, Master.”

He waves a hand again as if he doesn’t care and strides to his study. He shuts the door.

“That means you can worry about the laundry later,” I say, grabbing Mary’s forearm and dragging her back toward the bedroom. “There is something Imusttell you.”

She yanks her arm out of my hold. “I will get your breakfast and bring some mending, lest Mrs. Banks think I am slothful at my work. Then we will talk.”

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