Page 88 of Spearcrest Prince

“Did Pembroke say that?”

My stomach churns, and my fists clench. “He said he can do whatever he likes, including taking her to the party, dragging her to a dark corner, bending her over and fucking her until she forgets my name.”

“That’s very bold,” Evan says.

“That’s verystupid.” Iakov snickers. “What was he thinking?”

“He wasn’t.” I shake my head and swallow hard. “I wanted to kill him, Iakov. I wanted to rip his arm from its socket and beat him to death with it.”

“I know,” Iakov says.

“Look, I don’t get it,” Evan says, leaning closer to me. “What’s happening with you and Anaïs? I thought you wanted to get rid of her. You’d think… Do you like her or something?”

“Obviously not,” I snap.

“Are you sure?” Iakov says, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure.”

“You still want to get rid of her?” Evan asks, sounding dubious.

“I want—look, get off my case. I don’t have to like Anaïs to not want someone else to fuck her. She’smyfiancée, for god’s sake. Whether I fuck her or not is my business. Whether I like her or not is also my business.”

“Right,” Iakov says, not even pretending to sound convinced.

“Look, I’m just going to say what I think,” Evan says, raising his hands. “If you want her, don’t ruin everything with her—just tell her. Trust me. And you’re going to have to marry her anyway, so if you want her, then really, what’s the problem? So what if your parents made this match? If it works, then it works. You could be happy. You could both be happy. Just be honest with what you feel.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” I sneer, slumping back into my pillow.

“My situation isn’t like yours,” Evan says with a glare. “If S—if the person I want was already mine, if she was engaged to me, do you know how happy that would make me?”

“I don’t want Anaïs.” I sigh. “Go away, Evan.”

“I’m just saying, man,” he says, shaking his head. “Ruining your own chance at being with the person you want hurts like shit. Take it from me.” He stands. “I would be a shit friend if I didn’t tell you the truth. Anyway, get well soon.”

“I will,” I say sullenly.

He rolls his eyes. “You coming, Iakov?”

Iakov looks at me. I hold his gaze, even though it’s unnecessarily intense. He raises an eyebrow.

“Kto ne riskuyet, tot ne p’yot shampanskogo,” he says.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” I say, just to annoy him.

He lets out a snort of laughter. “Stupid fuck.”

I give him the finger. He shrugs and walks away.

WhenImeetMellieoutside the sixth form girls’ building, she doesn’t look surprised.

I’m guessing she must have heard about the fight—I wonder if she knows what it was about, if she minds. If she does, she doesn’t show it. She greets me with a kiss on my cheek.

“Aw, that looks so painful,” she says in a baby voice. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “It looks worse than it feels.”

She’s wearing a tiny pink dress and strappy silver heels. Pink eyeshadow and glossy lipstick adorn her face, and her hair bounces in loose curls around her shoulders.

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