Page 155 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

My replying laugh is only slightly uneasy. I wrap my hand around Rahk’s arm, leaning into him to give the illusion of newlywed bliss. “You’re right. I assumed all fae find our race repulsive. Apparently not!”

“I’m afraid that is a misconception that must be rectified.” Rahk slips his hand around my waist. I suck in a fast breath and then disguise it with a smile up at him. “Our peoples are, fundamentally, not that different from each other. We have enough superficial differences to make the contrary seem true, but the more time I spend in both lands, the more I am convinced that we have a great deal in common. We both, for example, enjoy the company of the clever young lady I am honored to call my wife.”

Of all the things I expected him to say, that was not one of them. I look up at him as he smiles down at me. A giggle that isn’t wholly forced escapes me. I turn to Lord Oliver and say in a loud whisper, as if it’s a secret, “I’m afraid I’ve fallen under the spell of his charms. Matrimony has been a fear of mine for as long as I can remember, but it has proved a delight so far.”

Oliver’s reply is all genuine kindness. “I am glad that you have found a man who treasures you as you deserve.”

His comment touches me. I wish I could thank him for always treating me with respect and consideration, but an appropriate reply refuses to pass my lips.

Rahk steps in to my rescue, addressing the young lord. “You proved yourself worthy at swordsmanship. Have you ever practiced archery?”

Oliver’s face lights up. “Very little, but if you would have an amateur, I would love to learn the art.”

“You must come to my estate then. There are grounds aplenty for target practice. Bring your bow and we shall enjoy the fine weather.”

Oliver’s reply is an eager grin and an enthusiastic nod.

Rahk and Oliver bow to each other, and I offer a curtsy before I take Rahk’s arm and follow him toward the table of refreshments. I happen to turn around and see the baroness’s suspicious gaze. Immediately, my good humor is doused with cold water. I tighten my grip on Rahk’s elbow and hiss under my breath: “The gall of that woman toconfrontme in a public place over something so patently false! She’s probably the one behind that rumor! She doesn’t care that it could ruin both of our reputations—and halt your work earning the queen’s trust—if you seduced me and lured me into a marriage to steal my fortune. You would be the worst kind of rake!”

“You cannot fault her. She likely hasn’t seen anything so interesting in several decades.”

That earns a snort from me, but it isn’t enough to right my sour mood.

My bracelet catches my attention suddenly. The glass roses have all turned brown—and it’s as though they’vewiltedand curled in on themselves. Only their centers seem alive, with a deep orange glow. I gasp. “Rahk! I’ve somehow broken the beautiful bracelet you gave me!”

He glances down at me, then at it. He lifts my hand to look at the bracelet. At his casual touch on my skin, I flush. The roses immediately uncurl and darken to a deep red. Rahk’s gaze flicks up to mine. There’s a mischievous smirk playing at his lips. “It’s not broken.”

It transforms once more, mirroring my awe as it brightens, the red shifting to a luscious indigo. My mouth drops open. “This is from Faerieland. And it . . . changes with my emotions?”

“Look at you. Living up to the description I just gave Lord Oliver.”

His teasing grin is dazzling. My bracelet returns to the color of my blush. He glances at it, the skin around his eyes crinkling even as his pupils dilate. I stuff my hand behind me, hiding the bracelet from his gaze. “If we weren’t in public, I would whack you for pulling such a dirty trick on me.”

“Don’t let the onlookers stop you,” he replies, and laughs at the face I give him. He takes both of my hands, even the one I try to hide from him, and eagerly pulls me toward the dance floor. “Come, make my long hours of dance practice worth it.”

“I’m not sure you needed those hours. You’re a natural at dancing.”

He wraps his palm against my shoulder blade, mine resting on his arm while our hands meet. He glances at the blush pink of my rose bracelet before lifting his eyes to me. They are warm and full and soft. He pulls me closer—not enough to be scandalous, but still intimate. “I practiced for you. I didn’t want to humiliate you at these balls.”

The music rises to our ears. It’s a waltz. We step into the dance.

“It’s a relief to not have to purposefully sabotage dancing with you,” I say. “I had to work hard to think of the man’s part instead of relying on muscle memory.”

“It was a good effort. I was not fooled, but I might have been, had the circumstances been different. Then again, if I hadn’t known you were a woman, I would not have ordered you to practice with me.”

I laugh. “I thought it was wildly strange. In fact, there were many things you did that I thought were strange, but I hadn’t spent enough time around men or fae to know for sure.”

He shakes his head in amused disbelief. “I was openly flirting with you, Kat. I don’t know how you didn’t realize it.”

His bluntness is not what I expect. I shrug, looking away as my bracelet brightens in color. “I assumed you would confront me if you knew the truth. So when you didn’t confront me . . .”

He shakes his head again, then draws me closer. I try not to let my breath catch too audibly. But the force of his black eyes nearly trips up my practiced steps. “That was your mistake. I like to wait and see how things play out.”

I do my best not to go stiff in his arms.Does he know?Was that his way of telling me he knows everything, and he is waiting for me to tell him I’m the Ivy Mask?

But the saints-cursed bracelet turns a boggy green. Rahk’s head tilts slightly. “Why did my statement frighten you?”

My eyes widen. “Is that what the green means?”

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