“That’s not what I mean. It’s not that I don’t think you have what it takes, but that youdoand have chosen not to put in the effort.”
“It’s not that I haven’t tried.”
I scoff. “Is that so?”
“Yes, but when I did…it didn’t go so well.”
His expression has my defenses softening. I lean slightly forward. “What happened?”
I expect him to evade the question and remind me it’s his turn. So I’m surprised when he answers. “It was shortly after the rebellions ended,” he explains. “Nyxia decided the best way to quell human unrest was to make a marriage alliance between me and a human aristocrat’s daughter. She drew up a list of potential brides she wanted me to meet. We planned for me to spend Lunar Court’s social season amidst human cities where I would find an acceptable mate. To be honest, I was thrilled. Despite how terrified I’ve always been of crowds and strangers, I was willing to set it all aside for the new experience. I’d seldom left the palace before this, and I certainly hadn’t ventured out to human cities for frivolity. It was a chance I couldn’t pass up. I learned all the popular human dances, took rooms at the most expensive hotels, and was outfitted in the finest human clothing.”
He pauses, shaking his head. “It was overwhelming but fascinating at first. The admiration I received from men and women alike was unlike anything I’d felt from other fae. And their energy. It was a psy vampire’s playground to be amongst such new and decadent emotions, so different from what I sense from faekind. I relished them. Learned what it took to spark certain ones I liked best. Desire became a quick favorite. That’s where things started to go wrong.”
My stomach clenches, and I wonder if this is where he learned to become the playboy prince. Part of me wants to tell him not to go on, but I’m too enraptured by his confession to speak.
He continues. “I courted the women my sister asked me to meet. There were several different cities I began to frequent with a potential bride in each. I made my rounds, called upon them. Brought them gifts, paid them compliments. I didn’t grow emotionally close with any of them, but I could tell I was earning their desire. I reasoned that companionship and affection would soon follow. Since I knew courtship to be a sort of audition that precedes an engagement, I thought I was doing all the right things to help me discover which woman would be the best mate for me. I attended ball after ball, dancing with my potential brides, song after song after song. I grew more comfortable and stopped dressing like a stuffed penguin and began wearing clothes I felt more like myself in.”
I glance down at his chest, where he wears yet another open-collared shirt with no waistcoat. I’ve grown quite used to his state of dress lately, but I still remember how scandalized I first felt by his appearance.
“I should have known better,” he says with a dark laugh. “I learned about human etiquette, but I let it go in one ear and out the other, all to suit my own enjoyment. I underestimated how serious humankind can be about their rules and strictures. Halfway through the social season, I started to sense a shift in the energy amongst the women I was courting. They were all smiles and compliments when in my presence, but behind their grins lurked new flavors of emotion—envy, hate, and desperation. No one said a thing to my face, but I quickly learned I’d earned a reputation. One for dancing with women more than two or three times during a single ball. And not just one woman, but a different woman for each city I frequented. I hadn’t grasped the significance of what I was doing. Where I thought I was getting to know a potential future mate, to the humans, I was luring multiple women into a sense of attachment I hadn’t intended to give. Shortly after my startling revelation, a couple of the women contacted me to make excuses for why they must sever our courtship, while others became more aggressive than ever. Their fathers too began seeking me out, vying for my favor, finding any reason to get their daughters before me more and more. In a few veiled words, they pressured me to make my proposal. All the while, I was shocked because I’d yet to get to know a single one of my potential brides. As tensions grew, it became clear that none of these women wanted me forme, and I left. My reputation only grew from there, leaving stories of broken hearts and unfulfilled promises in my absence.
“When I returned to Nyxia, I explained everything. While she claimed to understand, I could tell she was disappointed in me. In less than one month, I managed to disrupt our standing with the very people I was supposed to appease. That’s when my sister took matters into her own hands and came up with her plan to host the annual social season at Selene Palace from then on. At first, I think she still held onto hopes that she could pair me off, now that she’d be in control of the environment, but I asked her to stop meddling in my love life. She did, for a time, until she decided it was imperative that I marry a royal. That’s where Princess Maisie came in. And, in turn, you.”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to finish. Then I realize that’s the end of the story. “Wait, that’s how you earned your reputation? By dancing too many dances in a row and courting too many ladies at once?”
He nods.
My mind reels. While I know how much the gentry value their rules, I never thoughtthatwas why the prince was known as a rogue. I thought he’d done cruel and vile things to earn that name. “Have you any idea what people really think of you? Why did you never clear up the misunderstanding?”
“I know what is said about me. I never corrected anyone because I doubted it would do any good. I broke society’s rules. I did exactly what they said I’d done, regardless of my ignorance or intentions. Besides, it’s true that I’ve taken numerous lovers but never a mate. I’ve never had a serious courtship, just like the people think. The last person I gave serious thought to pursuing—” He clamps his mouth shut.
I sit straighter, my attention fixated on his suddenly flushed cheeks. Curiosity burns inside me. I want to ask him to elaborate, but it’s his turn to ask a question, and I’m afraid that if I speak, he’ll change the subject entirely. Perhaps I can encourage him…
“I never learned the name of my last lover,” I say in a rush.
A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Is that so?”
I nod but say nothing else.
“Why didn’t you learn his name?”
“It felt safer that way,” I say with a shrug. “Our coupling was meaningless, but it felt like freedom. Like I could be anyone I wanted, so long as we never learned each other’s names.”
He furrows his brow. “I think I can relate to that.”
“So, what happened with the last person you pursued?” I ask with as much nonchalance as I can muster.
“Actually, it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Actually,” I say, mimicking his tone, “you already asked why I didn’t learn my previous lover’s name.”
His mouth falls open. “Did you trick me?”
“Perhaps.”
A wicked grin curls his lips. “I like that. Very well, I suppose I can tell you about it. Just don’t pity me, all right? I despise pity.”
I nod, then wait with bated breath for him to continue. I’m not sure why I’m so eager to hear about his love life, but I am, with equal parts fascination and dread.
