Page 65 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

“Why did you save me?”

I blink. “I’m sorry?”

“Tell me, Nat, why you saved me.”

That’s it? “Because you were in danger.”

He shakes his head. “That is not why.”

“What do you mean?” I cry, sitting up, indignant. “I saw them out the window. At first, I was scared they were going to kill me—they spooked me badly!—but they didn’t, and then I realized they had come for you. So I had to warn you.”

“I told you to be honest.”

My mouth drops open. I try several responses, but none of them come out in my shock. Finally, I resort to, “What am I supposed to say? What response would satisfy you, Master?”

“I want the truth. I want to knowwhyyou came to warn me.”

I give a wheezing laugh of disbelief. “I’ve already told you! Because you were in danger! Because I didn’t want you to die!”

His finger shoots forward. “There! You didn’t want me to die. Why not? Tell me why you didn’t want me to die, Nat.”

“Because you are a person?” I say, spreading my hands wide helplessly. “Because they wanted to commit murder, and that is wrong?”

“But me killing those five was not murder?” he challenges.

“It’s different when you are defending yourself! What do you want me to say: that I didn’t want to spend all day scrubbing your blood out of the rug?”

He shakes his head. “I want to know what you get out of it if I’m alive. That is what I’m asking. Did you save my life so you could keep your position? Were you afraid you wouldn’t be able to get another if I died?”

“It was so early I thought my eyeballs were going to fall out of my head. I was not thinking of my position, except that it was because of this position I had to get up so early. Though now that you mention it, you dyingwouldhave probably put me in a tough situation.”

A strange little smile, with a dangerous edge, creeps across his face. “Are you claiming that you saved me purely out of the goodness of your heart?”

I snort. “Hardly. It was just instinctual, though now this questioning is making me regret it.”

His eyebrows rise at that. Strangely, my rude comment seems to be what convinces him. Of what, I’m not sure. His grip tightens on the table edge, and he looks away from me. He opens his mouth, pauses, shuts it again.

I wait, wriggling my toes beneath the quilt.Hisquilt.

He pushes off the table abruptly and heads toward the door. “Regardless of your reason, thank you for doing what you did. It . . . it was brave of you.” Each sentence sounds disjointed, almostawkward. “I’m sorry you got hurt. And I will be paying the doctor’s fee. You will rest.”

With that, he marches out of the room, shuts the door just shy of a slam, and his footsteps echo into nothing. When quiet at last fills my space, I collapse against the pillow, my chest rising and falling fast. My limbs shake even more than before.

He still doesn’t know I’m a woman.

I could almost laugh from relief.He still doesn’t know.

A knock sounds on the door. I nearly leap out of my skin.

“It’s just me, sweetheart,” says Charity, coming in with a bowl of broth. “No need to look so frightened. I’ve come to see if you can take a little broth after your wild morning—cold, unfortunately, as the doctor ordered.”

My hand shakes only a little as I take the bowl, but she places a hand beneath it, steadying it as I take small sips. The broth is good, spiced and salty, though I don’t like it nearly so much cold. “Is the doctor gone? Will he come back?”

“He is just leaving. Do you want him back?”

“No!” I say, too vehemently.

She gives a gentle smile and winks conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, he didn’t expose your secret.”

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