Page 179 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

Edvear suddenly seems to pause, to realize I am sitting there, and his mouth falls open. “What areyougoing to do? Has he promised to visit you?” He nods at the note I hold.

I have not opened it yet. Still, I swallow and say quietly, “He will not visit me.”

Edvear stares at me. Then he storms out of the study, and maybe part of me softens when I realize he is furious at Rahk on my behalf. If only Edvear knew the truth.

I stare at the letter in my hand. At the precise, elegant flow of my full name scripted in ink. Do I want to read it? Am I brave enough?

I might not be brave enough, but I am definitely stupid enough. I break the seal and begin reading.

Dear Kat,

I had planned to celebrate your birthday with you by picnicking by the creek and playing a game of Fool’s Circle in the sunshine. Then I was going to suggest you ride Bartholomew through the fields while I flew along beside you, so we could share our favorite things together. It was not much, but it seemed like what you would like.

I am sorry for leaving you. Even though you told me it was the only option, I know you did not want it. I fear that you will be miserable today, but I trust that it will pass soon enough. You have a large heart that loves easily. I am sure you will find someone who shares my preference for women who cannot keep their mouths shut even when their lives depend on it—and women who cook up schemes of dressing like young boys for dubious reasons. I am partial to Lord Oliver, as jealous as I am even writing that name, but I know you will have more than enough options. Stay clear of Boreham and Alsbee. I probably should have just relieved them of their heads before leaving Harbright, though I hear that is illegal.

This letter is getting too long. I meant only to apologize for missing your birthday and to assure you that, for a mixture of reasons I do and don’t understand, my leaving is for the best. And to tell you that, even though I may live for thousands of years to come, as long as that life continues, I will never forget you, Kat. Neither do I regret meeting you.

Enjoy your present.

Rahk

I can barely read the swirling words on the page by the end. I sniffle, wiping my wet nose on my sleeve. He truly is gone. I asked him to leave, and he left. That forehead kiss was the last he will ever give me. And I will never see him again.

My fingers are numb when I reach for the wrapped box. I peel away the paper to find a case of polished wood inlaid with pure gold leaf. I flip the latch and open the case to find a new Fool’s Circle board. This one is full sized, like Rahk’s, but the pieces of one side are made of solid gold, while the others are pure silver. The Fool itself is inlaid with diamonds, his hat covered in tiny emeralds, and his coat and shoes made of rubies. The board, with its spaces carved with lines of gold, is made of luminescent mother-of-pearl.

The whole thing is worth a fortune. Atruefortune. This belongs in the queen’s vault. Not my hands.

I shut my gaping mouth. He knows I will never use a board like this. He knows I prefer simpler things. But I think he did this on purpose—to give me something I will keep locked away. Something I will never lose, break, or be parted from.

For all that he speaks of me loving again, he is afraid I will forget him.

“Have no fear,” I manage around my thick throat, “there is no chance of that happening.”

Mary knocks on the study door a moment later. She doesn’t have to say anything. She simply comes to my side and gives me a hug. Then she heads in the direction of the bedroom, and I know she means to begin packing.

I join her and get to work.

I focus on my busy hands. There is no room here for thoughts or, even worse, emotions. My entire existence is wrapped up in these bodices that I carefully arrange in a large trunk. Only when I pack my two Fool’s Circle boards and strategy guide, does a scrap of longing make it past my defenses.

Mercifully, that longing is rudely interrupted by horses thundering down the estate’s driveway. Mary and I exchange a look. I get to my feet and hurry to the window. “Warriors from the queen.”

“Why did the queen send warriors here?” Mary asks cautiously.

I hurry out of the bedroom. Edvear meets me as I head out the front door. I bid him stay inside in case the sight of another fae complicates matters. The warriors pull their mounts to a halt and one leaps down.

“Lady Vandermore?” the knight asks.

Vandermore.Not Varadirth.

“Yes?” I pull my shawl around my shoulders. “What is the matter?”

“We have been sent by the queen to ensure your safety after what the fae did early this morning.”

“I am safe,” I answer quickly. “Did Rahk do something?”

“He kidnapped His Highness, the Prince of Harbright.”

“What? You cannot be serious. Surely the prince is safe now?” My mind reels, trying to put the pieces together. This must have been about Ymer. Rahk must have taken him to tell the troll to leave—but Rahk never would have hurt the boy!

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