Page 75 of The Prisoner's Throne
“I agree to those conditions,” Wren says softly before the storm hag can answer for her.
“So do I,” Oak says, although no one asked him. Still, this is all a performance. “Provided that I am the one who comes up with the question for my betrothed.”
Wren looks panicked. His mother looks as though she’d like to stab him with her fork. Jude’s expression is impossible to read, so rigidly does she keep her features set.
Oak smiles and keeps smiling.
He doesn’t think she’ll contradict him in public. Not when Bogdana drew so much attention to them.
“So be it, brother,” his sister says, sitting back in her chair. “The choice will be yours.”
CHAPTER
18
Shortly after that, Wren rises and makes her excuses.
On her way out, she stops by Oak whispers in his ear. “Meet me in the gardens at midnight.”
He nods with a slight shiver. She’s already moving away from the table, fingers resting briefly on his shoulder as she goes. The storm hag spots her leaving, rises, and follows, menace in her movement.
That’s two assignations for Oak. The moon’s zenith tonight is about an hour past midnight, so they’re a little too close together for him to feel easy about moving between them. And yet, he’s helpless to do anything but agree to see Wren. When they were alone on the floor of the brugh, he felt as though they were friends again. And something was obviously wrong. Wren said she made mistakes— could that have to do with allowing Bogdana to accompany her? The storm hag wants them to marry—and soon—but he isn’t sure why Wren doesn’t tell her that isn’t going to happen. Is it because Wren’s power is at such a low ebb that she’s afraid she will lose if she has to fight?
He can postpone the betrothal easily enough. Pose her a question to which she doesn’t know the answer—or pose it in such a way that it’s possible for her to pretend to guess wrong.
Who is my favorite sister?
What’s my favorite color?
Can you ever forgive me?
Okay, maybe not that last one.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Tiernan has walked up to Hyacinthe. Both of them stood near the High Table throughout dinner; Hyacinthe didn’t follow Wren out. Instead, he had remained behind, looking uncertain.
“I want you,” the prince hears Tiernan say. Oak feels some chagrin at overhearing that, but he is also surprised at the starkness of the admission. It sounds almost like an accusation.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Hyacinthe asks.
Tiernan snorts. “Pine, I suppose.”
“Aren’t you tired of that?” Hyacinthe could have said the words like a tease, but instead he sounds exhausted. A man offering a truce after a long battle.
“What else is there?” Tiernan’s voice is harsh.
“What if I said you could have me? Have me and keep me.”
“I could never compete with your rage toward Elfhame,” Tiernan says.
“Eavesdropping, prince?” asks the Ghost, taking the seat on the other side of Leander.
Oak turns toward him guiltily. He would really like to have heard what Hyacinthe said next.
“I am behaving just as you wished,” Oak says. “No going off on my own. No heroics. Even a little spy work.”
Garrett rolls his eyes. “It’s been a mere handful of hours—barely that. Manage to last the night, and I will actually be impressed.”
Since Oak didn’t plan on lasting the night without sneaking out, he says nothing.
