A Curse So Dark and Lonely (Page 45)

At the time, his comment made me feel weak.

Harper’s comment does not.

“And you’re unexpectedly patient,” she says. “For someone who expects everything to be done on his command.”

She is wrong. My shoulders tense—but at the same time, I do not want her to stop. As always, her words speak right to the core of me, but these do not feel like censure and instead light me with warmth. “No one would ever call me patient.”

“You are. In a different way.”

“In what way?”

“In the fact that you’re standing here, not making me feel like an idiot because I can’t dance.” She pauses. “The way you didn’t make me feel like an idiot for asking you to show me how to shoot an arrow.”

“You did that quite well,” I say, and mean it.

Her voice goes quiet. “The way you don’t treat me like I can’t do something.”

“Truly?” I release her hand to brush that errant lock of hair from her face. “You have convinced me you can do anything.”

She blushes. “Don’t start with the compliments.”

“It is not a compliment.” My fingers linger along her jaw, tracing the softness of her skin.

“Even now,” she says, “you’re out here risking our lives, trusting me to help you save your people, when you don’t really know anything about me. When you’re probably supposed to be back at the castle feeding me grapes and trying to get me to fall in love with you.”

“Grapes?” I say. “Is that what it would take?”

“The red ones are secretly the way to my heart.”

My thumb strokes over the curve of her lip. Her breath shudders.

Her free hand flies up to catch my wrist.

I freeze. She will shove me away again, the way she did in the inn.

“Wait,” she whispers. “Just wait.” Then her lip quirks and she repeats my line from earlier. “Do not run from me.”

“I will not run.”

To my surprise, tears form in her eyes, a glint of diamonds on her lashes. “I want to trust you,” she says, so quietly that her voice could get lost on the wind. “I want—I want to know it’s real. Not that you’re trying to trick me to break the curse.”

I do not understand how she can fill me with such hope and fear simultaneously. I pull her hand to my chest and lean in to her, until we share breath. My lips brush across hers.

It is barely a kiss, but she is somehow closer to me, her body a pool of warmth against mine.

I want so desperately to turn it into more, to see where this blossoming attraction will lead.

But I have come close before. I have found this moment before.

The only difference is that I have never wanted it so badly.

I draw back, then press my lips to her forehead.

“I want to know it’s real, too,” I say.

Her body goes still against mine, and then she nods. Her head falls against my shoulder, her face close enough to breathe warmth against my neck. It puts my hand at the small of her back, the other on her shoulder.

I speak low, against her temple. “Shall I have the guards call for the horses?”

“Not yet,” she says. “Is that okay?”

“Always.”

I stand and hold her until the music fades and the night grows too cold.

But inside I’m warm, and my heart wants to sing.

We arrive at Ironrose late. Stars light up the sky and torches burn along the front of the castle, lighting the spaces where guards once stood.

Grey and Jamison take the horses, and I walk Harper through the Great Hall and up the sweeping staircase. The air is thick with tired silence, and neither of us breaks it, but for the first time, no wall of tension stands between us.

We stop in front of her door, and she looks up at me. “Are we doing this all again tomorrow?”

I cannot tell from the tone of her voice whether she’s eager or apprehensive—or simply exhausted. “No. I will have Grey send word to the Grand Marshal of Sillery Hill that we will visit in three days’ time. I want to give news time to spread.”

“So we’ll stay here.”

“If you find that acceptable.”

“Maybe we could finish our lesson, since I didn’t get to learn much.”

“In dancing?” I say, surprised.

She swats my arm. “In shooting arrows.” A faint blush finds her cheeks, and she adds, “But dancing would be okay, too.”

“Anything you wish.”

“I should probably go to bed,” she says.

But she lingers and makes no move to open her door.

So I linger, wondering if this is an invitation to finish what we began at the edge of the cliff at Silvermoon. I’m not sure precisely what has changed between us, whether it’s trust or respect or simply the ability to see each other in a different light. I’m not sure it matters. All I know is that I long to take her hand and lead her into her chambers, to sit at her side and share secrets. To run my fingers through her hair and discover the taste of her skin.

I cannot remember the last time I’ve felt this longing.

In truth, I’m not sure I ever have.

The door to Freya’s room eases open. Harper jumps and takes a step back.

Freya’s eyes flash wide. “Oh!” She bobs a curtsy and speaks softly. “Your Highness. My lady. Forgive me. I was going to stoke the fire in the bedroom.”

What a coincidence, I think. I was considering the very same thing.

I turn to Harper before my thoughts can get ahead of me. “I should leave you to your rest.” I bow, then take her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

It takes every ounce of self-restraint I possess to walk away.

My chambers are a well of darkness, the fire burning low in the hearth. The first season, I was asleep by now, well fed and worn out after a long day of hunting with the king and other nobles—men who had no idea what was in store for them. Exhaustion rides my back today as well, but it is no match for the tiny thrill of anticipation skipping through my veins.

I leave my candles dark, enjoying the quiet after the noise of the day. I shed my weapons, my bracers and greaves, then begin to unbuckle my jacket.

A long sigh escapes my chest. Hope is a luxury I cannot afford. An emotion I cannot dare to feel.

Hope blooms in my chest anyway, a tiny bud giving way to the first light of spring, petals daring to open to reveal the color inside.

I want to know it’s real.

That must mean it’s real for her.

The last buckle gives and I toss the jacket on the chair. When my fingers find the lacings of my shirt, hands settle on my shoulders. I freeze.

“Prince Rhen,” says Lilith. “I’d forgotten what a fine form you have.”

I jerk away and turn to face her. I want to snatch the jacket back from the chair. “What are you doing here?”

She moves closer to me, her eyes dark in the firelit room. “You once enjoyed my company in your chambers,” she says. “Has so much changed?”

“You know what’s changed.”

She steps closer, until a breath would bring my chest against hers. “Did you have a nice visit in Silvermoon? I’m amused at your attempts to convince the people you have secured this mysterious alliance. Tell me, what will you do when they discover your family is not in exile, but is actually dead?” She feigns a gasp. “Will you disclose that it happened by your own hand?”

“If I can save Emberfall from Karis Luran’s army, I will worry about that day when it comes.” I point at the door. “Leave my room, Lady Lilith. You are not welcome here.”

She lifts her hand to stroke down my chest, her fingers trailing a line of squirming discomfort along my skin that makes me gasp and jerk away before I can stop it.

This will lead nowhere good. I seize her wrist. “What do you want?”

She steps into me, pressing our hands together between our bodies. It’s like clutching a coal against my rib cage, and it pulls a low sound from my throat. I attempt another step back, but now she holds fast.

“I can stop this so easily,” she breathes. “Have you never considered wooing me to break this curse?”

“Get off me.” I want the words to be a threat, but they’re more of a plea.

She rises on her tiptoes to brush her lips over mine, a cruel perversion of the moment I shared with Harper. I turn my face away, pain stealing my breath. “You—you are not to interfere.”

“I interfere with nothing,” she whispers against my cheek. “Your broken girl is nowhere to be found.” A pause. “Do you wish to call for her? Perhaps she would like to beg for more—”

“No!”

Lilith laughs, her breath a rush of heat along my neck. “You are so easy, Rhen. This is why you will not reclaim Emberfall. This is why your kingdom would have fallen, even without my interference. Do you know I tried to seduce your father first, but he turned me away?” She leans down close again. “The King of Emberfall knew, even then, that succumbing to the wrong temptation could undo a man.”

My father, the great philanderer, who would bed any courtesan in eyesight, had the wherewithal to say no to Lilith.

Ever the fool, I walked right into her trap.