Page 70 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

I wait, and when he does not continue, I say, “But there are other reasons.”

“There are.” He inclines his head, then frowns down at the board. He considers it carefully for several long minutes before moving his pieces. “The Court I come from is especially notorious. It is not safe to get your heart tangled up with someone who can be used against you. In Faerieland, we cannot lie, but we are very good at deception. There has been no one I trust enough to bind my life to.”

I bite back my initial pitying response, and instead say, “That’s probably good.”

He looks up, surprised. “How so?”

“Because if you wanted power in Harbright, you could woo the queen. She’s the widowed regent for her son. You could be reigning King of Harbright until the crown prince is of age.”

“Marry the queen?” His bark almost startles me. “She would sooner bite my head off.”

“I think you can handle her.”

“You do me credit.”

I frown, and before I can stop myself, I gesture at his massive physique, his bulging arms and powerful shoulders. “You’re a veritable mountain. You’d be fine.”

He laughs again while I duck my head to hide my blush. I’m beginning to grow fearful of what foolish things I will say and do to elicit such laughter. The littleclinksof our pieces moving on the board fill the silence for several long minutes, until the prince clears his throat.

“Nat.”

The seriousness underlying that syllable lifts my attention to his. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to look at me. I chew on the inside of my lip, hardly breathing as I wait for him to continue.

“I don’t think I have properly thanked you for what you did,” he says at last.

Now it’s my turn to shift uneasily. “No, you have.”

“No, I haven’t, and I owe it to you,” Rahk says, firmly, still not looking at me. “Frankly, I am deeply ashamed that those assassins ever made it onto my estate, much less inside this house—and it is an egregious offense that I ever let any of them close enough to hurt you. I would have lost my head if I’d proved such poor competence in the Nothril Court.”

“How was it your fault?” I cry. “They are the ones who broke in. They are trained for this. It’s not your—”

“Iam trained for this, Nat!” It comes out in an angry snap. He rakes a hand through his hair. Is that a tremor in his fingers? My lips part.

He is serious. He truly is ashamed, which somehow succeeds in makingmeashamed that I couldn’t have gotten there faster.

Finally, his gaze latches onto mine. It is so strong, I immediately want to retreat.

“You were hurt because of me,” he growls. The words falter slightly. “That is never going to happen again. I swear it. You may not trust me, and that is fine—I have not earned your trust. But I promise anyway that I will not let you down again.”

“You haven’t let me down,” I insist. We haven’t played any minions for several minutes now. I don’t remember whose turn it is. “It is my fault that I didn’t get there faster—”

His tone turns almost . . .distraught. “Why won’t you accept my thanks? Why won’t you accept my apology? You did nothing wrong—you were brave and courageous and sometimes I think it is impossible that you didn’t have some ulterior motive for it because where I come from, aiding people is done for selfish reasons and protecting someone can cost you everything.” His words are tumbling out, fast and breathless, and for this moment, he sounds nothing like the stern, quiet Prince Rahk I’ve come to know. “I’ve been forced to do things that I hate, been prevented from doing the things I want, and anyone I protect becomes a means of manipulation. I have this little sister and—” He cuts off with a growl, shaking his head. He runs a palm down over his face, as though trying to wrestle control back. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet. “What I’m trying to say is that I am envious of your ability to justchooseto help someone. Simply because you want to. I admire that you did not just have the option, but you took it. I am thankful that you saved my life. If you hadn’t . . . one of the only people I care about in the world would have likely died. So please, Nat, please accept my thanks and please accept my apology. It upsets me that you seem disinclined to do so.”

I stare back at him, my mouth agape.

Little sister.

He must be talking about the youngest Nothril princess—Princess Pavi.

So the faecanlove,I think, closing my mouth. But why would Pavi have died if Rahk had? Unless he was talking about someone else?

I run my tongue over my lips and try to find my voice. It feels impossible to get the words out. They go against every instinct inside me that screams I have no right accepting either thanks or apology. He is so distraught, though. I cannot bear to look at the expression on his face and refuse the one thing he asks.

“Yes,” I say finally, quietly, ducking my head. “I accept them.”

Rahk lets out a deep exhalation. He works his jaw, then abruptly leans forward and moves his minions. We play silently until he speaks again.

“I am told it would be wise to marry a human woman to secure my position in Harbright’s court.” The furrow between his brows returns.

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