His gaze flicked down to the glass, to the tops of my half-exposed breasts, then back up to me, incredulous. “More leaves in a bottle?”
“Yes,” I said, louder than I’d meant to. “Because I’ve spent days reading everything I can find on Darreth, and I still know nothing compared to what you surely do. And I cannot—Iwillnot—represent this kingdom alone at this dinner. Ineedthe prince.”
Something I said struck him like a slap. He flinched, and for a fleeting second, his eyes betrayed a hint of misery.
Then they flashed a brilliant blue and he snatched the vial from my fingers. “Fine!”
And with that, he slammed the door not three feet from my face—again.
Catrin said nothing as I returned to my chambers. My pulse still thrummed with the aftershock of his fury, my magic buzzing as if the confrontation had set it alight. I didn’t regret what I’d said, but I did regret that she’d been there to witness it.
The scent of lavender from the small vial of perfume I’d made back in Caervorn dispersed some of the tension as I sat before the bronze mirror, watching Catrin’s usually deft fingers fumble with my braids. She pulled too tightly once then dropped that section entirely.
“Catrin,” I said, frowning slightly at her reflection. “You’re shaking.”
Her hands stilled, hovering over my hair like a flock of birds too afraid to land. “I… Lady Isca, no one has spoken to Prince Emrys that way since…forever.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, as though afraid the stone walls would carry the words elsewhere. “Not even his father.”
The embers of my indignation hadn’t yet gone out. I said, “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he needs to hear a few harsh words occasionally.”
But her reflection didn’t smile back at me like I’d expected.
My stomach sank through the stones underneath my feet. “How badly have I—” I stopped, swallowed hard then managed to complete the question. “Messed up?”
For a long moment, the only sound was the comb sliding through my hair. Then, in a thin whisper, she said, “I wasn’t worried for your position, Lady Isca.”
I went still. Completely, utterly still.
I had not only yelled at theCrown Princeof this nation, but also the most powerful mage alive, the cursed beast who barely clung to his sanity. And I’d done so without even a flicker of caution, wielding my fear like a blade.
My voice was thin and reedy, like a frightened bird. “I’ll apologize. He isn’t the monster he seems to think he is.”
Catrin nodded, but the crease in her brow and the tremor in her emotions told me she held a fear I had stubbornly ignored.
“Say it,” I whispered. “Please.”
She sucked in a breath and said, “I worry about how he’s going to react. Emrys is either going to run and hide even more than he already does, come out of his shell, or lose control. Not because he’d want to hurt you—he wouldn’t, he’d do everything he could to prevent it—but some days, it’s like he’s barely holding himself together.”
The sorrow she felt for him hit me square in the chest, and I realized how badly I’d bungled this. With a sigh, my righteous anger deflated, leaving only guilt in its wake. “You’re right. I wasn’t acting very much like an empath, pushing him like that.”
“No.” Catrin said softly. “I don’t think you understand, Lady Isca. Emrys has seen more of the light of day since you’ve arrived than he had foryears. He puts on a good show when you’re around, but he’s been living in a prison of his own making for a very long time. I… I just don’t want to see him go back there. Emrys doesn’t bend for anyone, but he did foryou.”
I shut my eyes. The truth of it wrapped into a knot inside my chest that I couldn’t untangle with my worries blocking the way. If I failed tonight with Emrys or Owain…No, I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t afford to doubt myself. Not now.
I had poked a lion who wanted nothing more than to hide in his cave and then asked him to join me for dinner. Someone had to pull him into the light. And I had simply been reckless enough to try.
I could almost hear the gods laughing again—this time,atme.
Chapter 21
Isca
Still filled with regret for pushing Emrys like I had, I made the trek back to the smaller formal dining hall with Catrin at my side. The humid evening air felt heavy and too warm against my skin—though maybe it was just my pulse thundering beneath it that made it all worse. I forced myself to continue walking toward the arched doors, trying not to hold my breath.
We were late, but Catrin assured me that was to be expected of ladies, even when princes came visiting. She opened the door for me, and that stifling feeling only got worse.
Emrys was already seated at the head of the table, hands folded before him like a warlord from a children’s tale. He wore his usual black trimmed with gold. It was the only color that seemed to fit him other than the blood red that marked him as both royalty and beast.
Only danger could’ve carved someone like him into this picture of ungovernable handsomeness. The scar across his lip, the others across his forehead and cheeks, was muted in the candlelight. His facial expression was surprisingly composed, calm even. Yet he still radiated tension from every taut muscle.
