I don’t know what to say to that. I lay down a card and continue the game.
But then I look up, realizing something I would have noticed earlier in anyone else. “Your Syssalah is better.”
“Is it? Thank you.”
My eyes narrow.
The prince smiles, and again, it’s a little rueful. “Harper,” he says, asif that explains everything, and after meeting the princess, it does. “I’ve had a great deal of practice. Since she met you, Harper has all but refused to speak anything else.”
I turn that around in my head. “Why?”
He keeps his gaze on his cards now. “She said that if I value Tycho’s friendship, I should prepare myself for this to be a conflict with every person who comes to care for him. She told me I would have to make an effort.”
So he made an effort.
I hate that he’s making it so hard to hatehim.
One of the first times I met Tycho, he took me by surprise with his magic. I chased him out of Callyn’s bakery, full of anger. My friend was sure I’d end up hanging from a rope, because he was a nobleman working in service to the king. To my absolute shock, he showed up a week later to apologize for causing a misunderstanding.
That same kindness and generosity is what allowed Tycho to forgive the man in front of me.
I set a card on the pile and think about Prince Rhen sitting in this room, by himself, worrying about magic, worrying about war, worrying about all the things he can’t control.
Much like I was doing.
“Tycho isn’t the only one who’d spar with you,” I say.
“Is that your way of saying you’d like to take a shot?”
That’s so honest that it shocks a laugh out of me. “No.” My veins are definitely humming from the wine, and I wonder if I’m going to regret this conversation tomorrow. “But the next time you see me on the fields with the soldiers, you could join us.”
Prince Rhen goes still, but then he gives me a wan smile. “A generous offer, but soldiers won’t spar with me, Jax.”
It sounds like he’s trying not to be patronizing, and I immediatelyfeel foolish. I’ve seen the way the soldiers react to the prince. I’m imagining Sephran’s face if Prince Rhen actually showed up on the fields. Leo would likely have a heart attack.
Prince Rhen lays down a three of hearts.
I stare at it for a moment, as if it’s not really there, and then I lay a three of swords on top of it. He’s reaching for another card, but I toss down my remaining cards: the kings.
He blinks as if he’s startled. “You win.”
I’m annoyed that he sounds so surprised. “I’ve never played cards with a prince before. Forgive me if I was supposed to letyouwin.”
I amdefinitelyfeeling the wine.
But he grins, and he looks so genuinely amused that it might be the first time I’ve seen a real smile on his face. “I’ve never played with a blacksmith before,” he says. “And I’m rather glad you didn’t.”
I pick up my weapons and stand, because if I spend too much more time here, I’m worried I’ll stop hating him altogether. Or I’ll shoot him.
“Thank you for the game, Your Highness.”
“Jax.”
I stop before moving away.
He looks up at me. “Thank you for the offer.” He pauses. “Itwasvery generous. And very kind.”
Any humor, any condescension, is gone from his voice. Instead, there’s a hint of sorrow, and like before, I’m not entirely sure what to do with it. The cruelest part of me wants toenjoyit. Like I said to Harper, mean horses are usually mean for a reason. I’ve got my own scars, my own bruised past.
