Page 90 of To Charm a Dark Prince

He deserved to be miserable. He’d done a terrible thing.

“Can’t sleep again?” she asked from the doorway.

He glanced over at her briefly. “No. You?”

“Dog wanted out.”

He grunted in reply. At least they wereslightlyon speaking terms. Slightly. She watched him for a moment, studying the dire unhappiness on his features. Shaking her head, she resumed her path after Eod. She found the dog, likely having done his business, now happily romping around the courtyard saying hello to every single guard with a stick in his mouth, begging to play.

She smiled.

The world might be shit, but at least there was a cute dog. She whistled, and Eod bounded up to her at Mach one. Laughing, she grabbed the stick from him and after a brief wrestling match—that nearly wound up with her pulled to the ground—she hurled it through the air.

It was after about four rounds of stick-toss that she suddenly had an idea.

It was a terrible idea. It probably wouldn’t work. But it just might. And it wasn’t like she had any others lined up waiting to be tested.

Eod, however, wasn’t done yet. But she knew what would distract the pup from the game of fetch. “Hey, let’s go see Maewenn. Maybe she has some food for us.”

Those ears perked up at the mention offood.Yep. Dogs were the best. He ran past her, stick forgotten, eager to go see the cook with a new singular goal in mind. But no matter how many times the dog made her smile, her happiness would always fade a second later.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

By the time she made it to the kitchens, Eod was already sitting at Maewenn’s feet, tail thumping on the ground and doing his best adorable grin up at the metal woman. Maewenn was standing there with her hands on her hips, lecturing the dog in that tone of voice that said she wasn’t really upset, and everyone knew it. Including Eod.

“Now, I don’t need you comin’ in here and licking all the hot pots and pans, you’ll scald that big tongue of yours!”

Gwen smiled. “It’s my fault. I mentioned food.”

“That’d do it. Much like a man he is, with only one thing on his mind at a time and—oh.” Maewenn let out a breath upon seeing her. “Darling, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look terrible.”

“I haven’t slept.” It was a lie. Well, okay, not really. She had passed out. That was kind of like sleeping. “I just…after what happened.” She sat down on a stool at the large kitchen island. She felt the weight of everything press onto her shoulders. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, dear. It isn’t. It’s that damnable prince’s fault. That man has more empty space in his head than I do, and I’m hollow.” Maewenn chuckled, poured Gwen some tea and placed that with some biscuits in front of her.

Eod decided—rightly—that Gwen was the easier mark, and was now sitting at her feet, begging for bits of the biscuit. And proving him right, she slipped him a few crumbs before even taking a bite of it herself.

“If I’d kept my mouth shut, Lancelot would still be free.”

“If you kept your mouth shut, you’d likely be stuck in there with that old fool. Or you would all be dead. He never knew how to keep himself to himself. Always a bit of a death wish on that one, I’m afraid.” Maewenn went back to making the breakfast that she was preparing.

And here came the next step in her plot. Gwen was glad the cook had her back turned to her, or else she might have seen Gwen cringe. “Do you have anything that can help me sleep? I figured you must, what with Mordred’s insomnia.”

“They have a word for it now? How wonderful.” Maewenn pondered the question for a minute. “I do, but…well, I suppose since it’s on his account you can’t sleep, there’s no harm in it.” She reached up to a shelf and pulled down a small fabric pouch. “Ah, damn. He must have the rest of it. I’m afraid I only have a little. Just enough to make you drowsy.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not really, but I wouldn’t go around testing that theory.” Maewenn handed it to her.

Gwen looked down at the bag and kept her frown to herself. It wasn’t nearly enough to take out Mordred. She would have to find another way to get to it. It was probably in his room, kept with everything else, and sneaking in there was going to get her caught immediately by the guards.

Unless…

There was one way she could get into Mordred’s room. It twisted a knot in her stomach in more ways than one. She tucked the little bag into her boot. “Thanks, Mae.” She’d process the rest of her new plan when the thought of it wasn’t going to make her blush bright red.

“Mae, is it? Friends are we now?” Mae hummed. “If so, I’d like that.”

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