I’m surprised he isn’t taking the opportunity to claim his ship was attacked. If he confessed to being targeted by the fae, it could cause an uproar. The humans could demand an inquest. If it were ever revealed that the Alpha Council sanctioned an assassination on a human, there could be another rebellion. That is, unless the council were to successfully paint Dorian as the villain during the investigation. Which they could.
Perhaps Dorian’s silence on the matter is more in his favor. After all, it would make sense that if he says nothing to condemn the fae, the fae wouldn’t move against him. That’s an incorrect assumption, of course, as proven by my presence here tonight.
“Why were you on a ship?” Vanessa asks. “Was it a mission trip?”
“I was coming from Bretton,” is all Dorian says.
“How did you survive the shipwreck?” Glint asks.
“I swam to shore.”
“How? As a human, you shouldn’t have been able to penetrate the barrier alone.”
Dorian hesitates before answering. “I wasn’t alone.”
I freeze. My heart thuds heavy in my chest.
The reporter leans in, eyes alight with fascination. “Someone rescued you?”
Dorian’s fingers curl and uncurl next to his dinner plate. “Yes,” he finally says.
Glint sits so far on the edge of his seat, it’s a miracle he hasn’t toppled onto the table. “Who?”
I hold my breath, expecting Dorian to look at me, to give some sign that he knows who I am…
He shakes his head. “I don’t remember.”
For some outrageous reason, my heart sinks at his answer, but the feeling is quickly washed away by indignation. How dare he not remember me?
“You don’t remember? But…has no one told you?” Glint McCreedy’s eyes flash to me. “Your rescuer sits at this very table.”
The blood leaves my face and I take every indignant thought back.Please don’t mention me. Please don’t mention me.
Dorian shutters his eyes. “Excuse me?”
“It’s Princess Maisie,” the reporter says, and I wish I could shrivel on the spot as every pair of eyes turns toward me. Vanessa glares as if I’d outright begged for such attention by dancing nude on the table. Greta stares with such a wide smile, one would think she was watching an entertaining show.
Glint speaks again, addressing me. “I have it on good authority, Your Highness, that you mentioned having saved Brother Dorian when you signed up for the pageant. You said it was one of the reasons you wanted to participate. I have here a quote from you that states, ‘I’m madly in love with him. I’ll do anything to win his heart.’”
I sink low in my seat, cursing Zara yet again for her impression of me. Did she have to take it that far?
Dorian slowly swivels to face me, expression as stern as always. “You rescued me? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?”
My mouth falls open, but no words come, my tongue tangled like kelp on the seashore.
“I too would like a statement on the matter,” Glint says.
I look from Dorian to the reporter, trying to think of something—anything—to change the subject. Then I feel a light tug on my skirt. I glance down to find a red claw gripping my hem. Farther beneath the table, I can just make out Podaxis’ mushroomed carapace. Relief floods through me at the sight of him, if only for the momentary distraction. He tugs my skirt again, and I see him mouthing something that I can’t hear.
I return my attention to the intense gazes of the onlookers, then to my dinner plate. With one swift move, I bring my hand to the table and brush my fork off the side, allowing it to drop to the ground.
“Let me get that,” Brother Christopher says, but I dive down before he can so much as flinch.
My hands come around the handle of the fork just as Podaxis whispers, “Say you will neither confirm nor deny their allegations.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just say it! It’s in the broadsheets all the time. It means you’re not saying you did do it, but not denying it either. It’s thatlying without lyingthing you do so well.”
