I stop to face the princess, so tired of her manipulations. “I haven’t left your side since I wrote the message. How would I have warned Clover?How?”
She crosses her arms, studying me. “You look upset.”
Shaking my head, I continue walking.
This ended in the best possible way, but I feel as if I’m nearing the end of my quickly fraying rope. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.
When we step inside Camellia’s quarters, I sit on the rug in front of the fire in her bedchamber, where I slept the night before as well, refusing the princess’s bed—choosing to become her dog instead of her lover.
She closes the door, trapping us in here alone. Moving nearly silently, she steps up behind me. I flinch as she sets her hands on my shoulders. I want to cringe away, but there’s no point.
She massages my muscles for several minutes before she finally speaks. “What did Clover mean when she said you still care for me? Did you tell her that?”
I know why Clover said it, but I wish she hadn’t. I have no desire to placate Camellia.
“I’ve done as you’ve asked,” I say heavily. “Let me sleep.”
“The floor is hard,” she says. “And my bed is soft.”
Her bed is poison.
I turn to look at her. “Let me tend my wounds in peace. It’s all I ask.”
Disappointment flickers over the princess’s face, but she drops her hands. “Very well. But if you change your mind, know you are most welcome.”
* * *
Several weeks pass,and a storm sweeps over Caldenbauer. I haven’t met with Clover, and she doesn’t look at me anymore. We coexist as strangers with a haunted past, and the royal wedding marches closer.
I’m not a fool—I know Lawrence has no intention of calling it off.
Pleased with my heartbreak, Camellia has left Brielle and me be, though I’m sure the respite is only temporary.
“Go to the apothecary tonight,” Camellia says as she finishes her afternoon tea. “Vignim should have gathered the ingredients I requested by now.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
She pushes aside her cup and studies me. “You’ve been agreeable these last few weeks, Henrik.”
I stare at her, not in the mood.
“Oh, but youarestill upset with me.” She makes a soft tutting noise. “Please remember it was Clover who rejected you—you can’t blame me for that. You should be more careful with your heart.”
Camellia rises, coming to stand in front of me. She raises her hand to my cheek, running her finger over the scar left by her ring. “I’m surprised your pet deer hasn’t healed this like he healed your arm.”
I lift my eyes to hers, startled.
Camellia laughs softly, stroking her hand through my hair. “Oh yes, I know about him. Tell me, has he had any luck with the necklace?”
I draw in a sharp breath through my nose, which only amuses her further.
“Because I like you, I’ll tell you a secret.” She leans closer. “There is no way to remove the necklaces. I wasverycareful with their creation. But since a small bit of defiance seems to make you breathe a little easier, I won’t stop the Woodmore from trying to puzzle it out.”
“How?” I demand, knocking her hand away.
“I have my ways,” she says cryptically. “I do have one question, though. Perhaps you’ll indulge me.”
I narrow my eyes, waiting.