Page 99 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“Ezra already knows about us.”
The way he says “us,” like we’re actually an item, weakens my knees.
I cross Ethan’s gaze as the music stops and let go of Aidan’s hand with a start. “Thank you for the dance, Your Highness. I think that’s enough practice for one lifetime.” I offer him a quick curtsy to keep up appearances and slip into the crowd, trying—and failing—not to let the dark slant of his mouth wreck my soul.
Chapter 30
Broken Glass
SONGBIRD
It’s well past four in the morning by the time I put a drunk Willow to bed. I remained glued to her side for the rest of the evening, focussed on my kindred duties at the great annoyance of my fiancé—and my lover.
“Blessed Flame, I don’t want to do this,” she whispers for the third time in a row. “Eight out of ten Fae women bleed the first time.”
I give her a quick, embarrassed nod as I help her out of her heels. “I did.”
I expect her to notice my admission and call me out for not revealing it sooner, but she’s too absorbed in her own despair to notice.
“Does it hurt a lot?” she asks quickly, her amber eyes so big it’s hard to see past them.
“It didn’t for me. Just a pinch.”
“At least it’s Ezra. He’ll know what to do. I mean—he’s got to be good at it, right?” She nods again, obviously trying to talk herself off the ledge of a panic attack. “Of course. He’s probably been with virgins before. He’ll know what to do.”
I unclasp the little hook holding her dress and unzip it, her docile, needy mood making it easy. “Of course he will.”
“I love him, I do. He’s the hottest man I’ve ever met, and he’s always been nice to me. But I can’t fathom having sex with any man.” She draws in a sharp intake of breath, the secret that had been at the tip of her tongue for months now finally flowing out. “I like girls, you see? I shouldn’t be marrying aboy.” She pouts in a drunken, exaggerated fashion. “Do you hate me now?”
My heart melts. “I love you just as you are. Thank you for telling me, Will. You can trust me.”
“I wanted to tell you before, but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be friends with me.” She climbs over the bed and hides her face in the pillows, and I lie down next to her, giving her a minute to catch up with her intoxicated confession.
She cries, muffling her high-pitched sniffles with her hands.
“Shh. It’s okay.” I try to soothe her and stroke her back up and down.
The princess’s bedroom is larger than the guest suite, but she looks small and fragile, curled up on the lavish lavender duvet of her baldaquin bed, her eyes glassy. In that moment, she reminds me so much of Marjorie that my instincts flare to protect her from the monsters under her bed.
Only tonight, the monster is the man she has to marry—or rather, his cock.
“Are you angry with me?” she whines. “You were quieter than usual all night.”
“Angry? Why would I be angry?”
She tucks her hands into her lap, shifting to a cross-legged position. “I thought, back on the solstice, when you and Ezra disappeared… I thought maybe you spent the night together. That perhaps you resented me for marrying him, when clearly, he should be with you instead.”
A patient smile appears on my lips as I give her hands a gentle squeeze. “Ezra’s my friend. Nothing more.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“So, it doesn’t bother you that we’re going to marry?”
I tilt my head, wondering how she could worry about me at a time like this. “It bothers me that you’re sad.”
She dries her tears and straightens her spine. “Zeke was so annoying tonight. I hope he didn’t say anything too egregious. I’m sorry you had to suffer through that, and again tomorrow, because I’m too chicken to do this alone.”
