Page 159 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

It makes me want to run away as far as I can. I want to climb through that window, mount Bartholomew, and fly away where he can never find me.

But that will hurt him too.

“What’s this sad face for?” Rahk plants his hands on the vanity, framing my body between his arms. His hair brushes mine—light and long against dark and short. He lowers his head, and his lips brush over my shoulder, sending a shiver all the way to my toes.

Now I must lie to him. Again. The thought brings the sensation of a knife driving into my chest. Sharp and intense and agonizing. I hang my head. “I don’t know what to do, Rahk.”

“About what?” His lips ghost across the top of my head. “Tell me what burdens you, and I will fix it for you.” His hand slides from the table to my waist, making me suck in a breath.

I turn around. He leans his weight on his other hand still on the vanity, his face mere inches from mine as his thumb lightly caresses my ribs. His eyes travel over my face. Trying to read me. I’m so exhausted after this ball, barely clinging to the remnants of my will, I don’t know how he doesn’t see every secret I’ve kept from him written plain across my face.

“Are you afraid that I will touch you tonight when you are not ready?” he asks gently.

My lungs shudder as they fill and empty. He’s unwittingly offered me an escape from my turmoil. It is not his touch I fear, but my conscience if I allow it. Still, my answer to his question remains the same. I nod, not meeting his eyes.

He moves his hands to my shoulders, squeezing lightly and kissing my brow. I could weep from the softness of it. “Would you like to play Fool’s Circle?”

My head shoots up.

“I don’t know about you, but as tired as I am, I could use something to soothe my mind,” he says. “We can play until you fall asleep.”

The words are out of me before I can help them. “Yes, please!”

The skin around his eyes crinkles slightly. “Then get into something more comfortable and we shall play as long as your heart desires.” I must have pulled a face, because he adds, “You object to this plan?”

I cast a pleading look up at him, my cheeks going hot. “I need help. This bodice is fastened at the back, and I cannot reach it.”

His attention flicks to the reflection of my back in the mirror, before returning to me. “Then turn around.”

I obey, facing the mirror as Rahk’s hands fall to the top of my spine. “There are hidden hooks.”

He traces the fabric until he finds the carefully disguised hooks. He fidgets for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “Human clothing is so complicated,” he mutters, ducking closer to the dress and squinting at it.

I find myself smirking. “Mary can do it in about thirty seconds, if you want me to call her in.”

The scowl that Rahk gives me is so dark, I burst into full laughter.

“Hold still,” he demands, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He undoes the top hook. “There we are.”

He moves faster now, his fingers working the hooks and eyes, until he reaches the end of the bodice. His eyes flick up to meet mine in the mirror, as if silently asking what is next.

“Thank you.” I hold the bodice with a hand on my midsection. “I can finish from here.”

He steps away, returning to the opposite side of the room, his broad back set to me. He busies himself with something I cannot see. I retrieve a nightgown and slip into my old room. I change as quickly as I can—which isn’t very quickly with all the layers of a ballgown—but when I emerge, I feel much lighter.

Rahk has changed too. He wears a loose black tunic and a pair of soft spun trousers. He’s already sitting on the edge of the bed—hisside, the covers pulled back and the Fool’s Circle board set up in the center of the bed. When I enter, he looks up, swiftly rakes his eyes over me, and then returns to setting up the board. He has set up one lone candle on the windowsill nearby. The rest have been put out. “Lie down. We’ll play until you fall asleep. I’ll snuff the candle then.”

“You’re not going to go hide in your study tonight?” I say, with probably too much cheek.

He glowers at me. “You know perfectly well I have done that for the sole consideration of your comfort.”

I know it’s true, and yet I cannot think of a reply. I slide into my side of the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin and staring sideways at the set Fool’s Circle board. “Who starts?”

“You.”

“Don’t be such a gentleman.” I move my pieces. “It’s disgusting.”

That surprises a chuckle out of him. He slides beneath the covers on his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he studies the board. He makes his move.

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