Page 84 of The Midnight Princess
“Prince Jacob—”
I shake my head. “Jacob.”
She smiles. “It was good of you to come. We haven’t seen much of the family this winter, but I want to thank you for standing by my sister at this time,” she says.
I shrug. I don’t pretend to understand the rules about elopement and the succession. “No problem. I’m sure it’s been rough.”
“More than rough.” She places the cup on a drying rack and wipes her hands. “Alma tells very few people when she’s suffering.”
“Suffering?” I repeat. Freja has lost me, but I understand this isn’t unusual with her.
“She feels pressure to do everything correctly. You’ve seen that?” Freja asks, opening the refrigerator and emerging with a platter of sliced fruit.
I’d have to be blind if I didn’t.
“She’s the oldest daughter.” Freja peels away the cover. “She took care of her little sisters and was our example for how to behave. But when she needs help, she doesn’t want to be a burden. Nonsense.”
“Yes,” I agree.
“It’s bad enough now, having to see Pietor all the time, but it’s going to get worse,” Freja says. “The press will be terrible when they find out about the broken engagement.”
“What?” My sharp question cuts through the princess’s soft monologue. Finally, something concrete.
“You know what the press is—” she continues.
“Not that.” My heart is charging in my chest and I can’t get enough air. “The engagement. It’s broken?”
Freja looks startled—like a prisoner digging her way to freedom and emerging into the warden’s walled garden. “Oh,” she says, going pale. “Oh.”
The door at my back swings on its hinge, and Freja, fretting her teeth along her lip, tilts her head around mine. “Dearest. Best. Most precious one. Is your broken engagementnotcommon knowledge in the palace?”
Dearest. Best.Alma. “I beg your pardon,” I say. I damn near bow.
Every trace of the crown prince vanishes, and in one ferocious movement, I drag Alma from the kitchen and down the hall. We burst through the door of the flat, and I lean over the railing, looking down the three flights of stairs, and opt for the small alcove tucked between a window and the door, under a glowing green sign that reads “No exit.”
I want answers now.
24
Narrow Divide
ALMA
A seam of frigid air leaks around the window, stirring the valance. It should be a relief after the overheated flat, but it sharpens my senses, making it impossible to escape from an awareness of Jacob, standing over me in the dark.
Vede.The pretense of my engagement was a thick wall, reminding me of my position and dignity, keeping me from crossing boundaries and throwing myself at this man. Some days it was the only thing. Now that it’s gone, we stare at one other across a narrow divide.
A song in Freja’s flat ends, and another one begins—passionate and slow and Pavian. I need bracing Sondish clarity at this time of night. A rowdy polka to make us laugh.
My eyes meet Jacob’s, and I brace myself for what’s coming. Every trace of the crown prince I’ve taught him to be has vanished, replaced by something wild and untamed that has been there all along.
“You knew,” he says, his voice hoarse. “You knew I wanted you.”
I sway on my feet. I was ready to be called a liar. I wasn’t ready for this.
Deep grooves bracket his mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me about Pietor?”
I could never be afraid of him, but I’m terrified of this talk. Terrified that he’ll see what I feel. Terrified of how many people I would disappoint and how many problems it would cause. Terrified of how far this might go.
