Page 16 of Pretty Little Princess

“What happened?” I murmur when I’m sure we’re out of earshot. “Why are your knuckles all bloody?”

Taking his hands in mine, I raise them to examine them more closely. It’s his blood. I’m sure of it by the open cuts. He must have punched something hard enough to break the skin. Nicolo snatches his hands from me, clenching his fists.

“Cassio told me what Pyotr did,” he rasps, clearly still agitated about it.

My stomach drops. This was why I worried about talking to Nico in the first place. “What did you do?” I breathe.Please, please, don’t say you killed Pyotr,I plead silently, peering up into my brother’s eyes.

“It’s nothing. It’s fine. We roughed him up a bit.” Nico hesitates. “And I might have threatened to kill him.” He shakes his head, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I should have fucking killed him–”

“Nico, no,” I say adamantly. “Promise me you won’t. That would definitely start a war with the Veles, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you or Cass or Lucc over what happened.”

Nico’s lips press into a thin line as he looks at me defiantly. “That smug bastard doesn’t get to have you, Sil,” he stated fiercely, grasping the side of my face with brotherly affection. “You’re too good for him. And he doesn’t even see it. I could read it in the stupid fucking smirk on his face.”

“I don’t want to be with him any more than you. But Iwillmarry him to protect the family. I might not be a strong fighter or a strategist who can command men like you, but I can marry Pyotr Veles to avoid risking everyone’s safety. So unless we can find a way to break my contract without starting a war, I will go through with it.”

My brother shakes his head.

“Nico, promise me,” I press. “I will never forgive you if you put our family on the line for me. So give me your word that you won’t do anything so rash again.” I hold eye contact, intending to stare him down until he agrees.

A long silence stretches between us. Finally, he releases a heavy sigh.

“Fine. I won’t kill the prick. But he deserves it.” The anger twisting my brother’s features dims as he lets his shoulders drop.

“Thank you.” I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tightly.

Nico holds me close, petting my hair for several moments.

“You should go wash up so Clara doesn’t see what a mess you’ve made of yourself,” I tease softly.

He chuckles and releases me. “You’re right.” Giving my shoulders a squeeze, he flashes me a smile and heads toward their guest bathroom.

As soon as I’m alone, I turn my attention to the knot of anxiety in my stomach. Even if my brothers didn’t kill Pyotr, nothing good can come from their actions. I love them for trying to protect me, even if I hate that Nico’s answer is violence so often. But I don’t doubt that the Matron and her son will respond in kind.

I only hope that it doesn’t end up with someone else getting hurt. All I want is for the fighting to stop. That’s why I’ve tried seeing my marriage to Pyotr in a positive light. Because I would rather be with someone I don’t love than to lose the people I do love.

Taking a steadying breath, I head back down the hallway to Clara’s playroom.

She and her mother both look up as I enter, and Nico’s daughter flashes me a big beautiful smile.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asks.

“He’ll be back in just a minute. He just had to wash his hands.”

“Okay!” Clara goes back to coloring without a second thought.

I sit down to join her, and Anya watches me carefully. Reaching across the table, I give her arm a squeeze, reassuring her at the same time as I try to reassure myself.

6

PYOTR

As I enter the imposing campus library and take in the rich wood, and the deep-green marble floors, I feel out of place. The still, silent atmosphere makes my skin prickle and puts my senses on high alert. Which is ironic because I’m the most dangerous thing that just walked through the heavy double doors.

Passing the front desk, I make my way to the main room. Rows upon rows of shelves fill the two-story space, all laden with books of various sizes and subjects. This is the first time I’ve been in here, though I know Silvia comes here often after classes are done for the day. I’ve tracked her schedule closely.

I scan the room, taking in the good number of students filling tables and tucked into nooks and crannies. A nice amount for what I had in mind. Plenty of people to receive the message and spread the word. Then my eyes land on who I’m looking for.

Silvia sits at one of the large communal tables in the middle of the library, her elbow resting on the dense wood, her fingers tangled in her thick mahogany hair, with her cheek resting on her wrist. She looks deeply engrossed in the book lying open on the table before her.

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