“I’m sorry I left you,” he says, voice low. “Give me ten more minutes, and I’ll fix this.”
Before I can react, his hand leaves my elbow and he strides over to Monty, thrusting the clay cup at the man. Monty rolls his eyes as he accepts it, downing its contents in a long gulp. He makes a disgusted face as he returns the empty mug to Thorne.
I think I know what’s in that drink and the reason for Thorne’s hasty exit from the party, but my mind is more wrapped around what he said to me.
I’m sorry I left you.
He…apologized to me. That was unexpected. I find myself clutching the part of my arm where Thorne touched. The contact had been firm, considerate, and oddly attentive. At least, that’s how it had felt to me. Almost…friendly. Like he used to seem in my dreams. Thorne was clearly too distracted by his annoying friend to realize he was being nice to me. And I’m annoyed that I even care.
“Your tea, Miss Rose.” Minka’s return startles me, but I accept the porcelain cup, grateful to have something to do with my hands. I return my attention to Thorne and Monty. The former stands with his arms crossed, staring down at the latter, who continues to sulk in his chair.
I narrow my eyes on the empty cup in Thorne’s hands, remembering the tonic he made for me at my birthday party. He helped me sober up from the disastrous effects of Moondrop. My chest tightens. That was one of the last moments between us before he betrayed me. Before he ruined everything. A strange tangle of emotions writhes through me, rage dancing with something softer. Sadder. The grief of something lost. I expect that loss to be my parents, but it isn’t. It’s…
My gaze lands on Thorne’s profile, the sharp cut of his jaw on display thanks to his hair being tied back.
Thank you for being my dance partner.
You’re welcome.
I shake my head and wrench my eyes from Thorne. My determination to look anywhere but at him aids in my discovery of a small body of water beyond the crowd. It’s a pond encircled by a well-kept path. Thorne said to give him ten minutes, which means we have time to kill. “Come, Minka, let’s take a stroll.”
* * *
Ten minutes later,Thorne and Monty join me and Minka on the path around the pond. Thorne still holds the empty cup in his hands, which he seems to notice at the same time I do. He frowns down at it as they stop before us.
“Shall I take that for you?” Minka asks Thorne. “Can I get anyone wine? Tea?”
Though she’s been promoted to my lady’s maid, she can’t seem to shake her preoccupation with serving beverages. I shake my head, as I left my teacup behind at the party, and before Monty can say anything, Thorne says, “No wine,” and keeps the clay cup in his hand.
“No wine,” Monty repeats grudgingly. Then, after an elbow to the ribs from Thorne, he bends into a deep and steady bow. When he straightens, I find his cheeks are still ruddy from drink and his curly blond hair is in disarray, but he appears far more sober than before. I know firsthand the power of Thorne’s miracle tonic, so I’m not surprised.
“Forgive my ungentlemanly behavior, Highness.” Monty speaks slowly, carefully. His words are probably rehearsed. He steps closer and offers me his arm. “May I escort you around the pond?”
I’ve already circled it five times, but I accept, placing my hand in the crook of his elbow. I expect a flutter in my chest, for I don’t exactly have a long-standing history of formal courtships, but I felt far more flustered when Thorne touched my arm earlier. My schooling was thorough in etiquette, so it’s not like I haven’t practiced this exact scenario with my peers. And I suppose my dances with Thorne haven’t hurt in that regard either.
Or maybe—and this is by far the most likely—I simply despise my fiancé and am incapable of feeling a single flutter for him.
We proceed with our stroll in tense silence for a few moments until the sound of a clearing throat shatters the quiet. I cast a glance behind us and find Thorne and Minka following in our wake. Thorne stares daggers at the back of Monty’s head. As if he can feel the invisible threat, Monty releases a resigned sigh and gives me one of those dimpled grins I glimpsed earlier. “I am most pleased to meet you in person, Highness.”
If I wasn’t so on edge regarding our supposedly broken engagement, I’d laugh at how feigned his enthusiasm is. But I’m not at all amused.
“Let us drop the pretense, Mr. Phillips,” I say. “What did you mean when you said our engagement has been broken?”
His expression turns more casual as does his posture. “If you aren’t already aware, our parents have spent years arranging our betrothal. I was supposed to meet you long ago, but for whatever reason, you were unavailable. Then it happened again. And again. And again. It became a bit of a game to me. A bet if you will. The latest of which resulted in today’s party, my self-gifted prize for winning the bet.”
I furrow my brow. “Because you expected me two days ago and I didn’t arrive?”
He nods. “Since our betrothal has been constructed by means of a fae bargain—thanks to your parents’ fae nature—it is bound and broken by conditions and rules. Your late arrival has severed the bargain and voided our engagement.”
Panic pulses in my chest. Had I received this news the night of my party, I would have been thrilled to hear our betrothal had come to an end, but I need this engagement now. My bargain with Thorne depends on it. The fates of our families do too. “Surely we can fix this. I know we’ve missed several prior deadlines, but our parents have renegotiated each time. Why can’t we do the same now? I’m finally here.”
His expression brightens with a sly grin. “Ah, that is because I made a bargain myself. My father agreed that if our betrothal bargain was broken one more time, I would get to choose my bride thereafter. A luxury for someone in my position, I know, but one I’m eager to have.”
“You don’t want to marry me?” Thorne already said as much, but he made it sound like it was due to my family’s declining reputation. Perhaps I’m vain for this assumption, but I thought meeting me would assuage any such reservations.
He chuckles. “I don’t know you well enough to want to marry you. Can you not say the same? Do you want to marry me?”
No, of course I don’t, but I don’t say so out loud.
