Page 68 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

“There is no shame in desiring to wed the young lady,” says Lady Duxbury Vandermore with a light chuckle that grates down my spine. “All the other young men do.”

She keeps putting me withall the young men,as if I am one of them, and not a fae from another world. Still, I am here. I might as well collect the information. “Please, do tell me the courtship process.”

“Are you familiar with it?”

“Is it similar to Aursailles?” I ask by way of answer.

“Oh dear me, no!” the lady laughs, and it reminds me of the way Pelarusa laughs when she is angling to get something she wants. “Here in Harbright, you sign a contract agreeing to pay the bride price and then she’s yours. It’s all arranged by the parents here.”

Arranged by the parents? A bride price? What nonsense. Does she think me a complete fool? I shift on the bench. “I would like to meet the lady first, before we sign any contracts.”

“Certainly! I can draw up the agreement and you can call again to meet her and sign it. As I said, she’s out now, but we can certainly arrange a meeting. I know she would bedelightedto meet you.”

This plan of mine will not work. I’ll have to come up with some other way to get the queen to trust me. I thank the woman anyway.

When I leave, passing between the manservants, they let out a huge exhale. They think I’m out of earshot. I shake my head and stride down the hallway. I scent another human servant, this one female, as I head toward the door. I glance toward it and am just in time to watch a red-haired maid carry a basket of clean laundry upstairs.

I saw her from a distance once, leaving my own estate.

Mary. Nat’s sister.

I cannot remember if I knew she worked here. It should mean nothing. Yet my senses still tingle after that odd meeting with Lady Duxbury Vandermore, so this strikes me as a strange coincidence. I consider informing her of Nat’s condition, but I cannot bring myself to call out to her. My pride is still very wounded that Nat would ever have been in danger at my estate.

I climb into my carriage and set off once more for home. No, no, I set off for my estate. Not for home.

The first place I go when I return is my room. Nat is no longer in the bed. Fresh sheets have been laid and the bed made to look untouched. Quietly, I make my way to Nat’s door and ease it open. She sleeps soundly on her cot, a blanket pulled up to her chin, a cold cup of water beside her. Her short hair is mussed, her freckles standing out in the sunbeam that covers the upper half of her body. Her neck is mottled purple, and the bandage on the side of her face covers her healing wounds. She will have scars on her face. Because of me—because of my incompetence.

I will not be so foolish as to let my guard down again. Neither will I forget her bravery and devotion.

I leave, staying quiet to not disturb her sleep.

Chapter 21

Kat

I’mdesperatelyweakasthe remnants of poison finish working through my system the next day. So weak, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do another raid again. Chopping wood, cleaning the prince’s room, or hauling water—even setting out his clothes—feel like tasks so monumental I don’t think I’ll ever be capable of them now. When I peel away the bandage from my face, I discover eight small cuts scarring over. They’re small enough I doubt they will be very noticeable, but I can already hear Mary having a fit.

The prince tells me to rest, to eat slowly, and to regain my strength. When I try to go back to work, he orders me to sit outside and soak up the sun, so I do just that. I find a sunny spot on the patio with my Fool’s Circle book, and I read until my face is sunburned and hundreds of new freckles have appeared on my arms.

I do feel better though.

That night, when the prince suggests we play our game over dinner—dinner where he ordered I eat with him so he can make sure I don’t go too fast—I’m so eager to do somethingnormalagain I almost trip over myself getting the board.

Our first game we play mostly in silence. Until we near the end, and my gaze shoots up in outrage. “You’re letting me win!”

The prince’s gaze flicks up to mine. Is that a smile tugging on the corner of his lip? “You’re improving quickly. I see the book is helping you.”

“How dare you!” I cry, shoving the pieces off the board.

“You took a poisoned blade for me!” he protests. “It feels cruel to beat you.”

“I want a fair game, or no game.”

We lock eyes. I hold my ground, glaring at him, while he regards me mildly. He is the one who looks away first.

“Very well. Let us start again.” He sets up the pieces. “If a merciless beating in Fool’s Circle is what you need to feel better, then a merciless beating you shall have.”

I take my minions and arrange them properly. “It’s not that I want to be beaten. It’s that I plan to beat you one of these days, and I want it to be for real. A false victory holds no satisfaction.”

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