With her view sabotaged, she spied on the remainder of the meeting by pressing her ear to the closed door, but all she could glean were snippets here and there. From what she could understand, it seemed both Selay and Menah were set on war. It was a terrifying prospect, and that was without considering the part about wraiths and mages. Her only experiences with war were secondhand accounts of battles that happened in other kingdoms. She never thought it was something she’d witness in Selay during her lifetime. Up until now, her life had been one of luxury and peace. Politically speaking, that is. Her love life was another issue all in its own.
A vision of Larylis filled her mind, for reasons she’d rather not dwell on.
Once she heard the meeting come to a close, she strode away from the door and sank into one of the chairs in the drawing room. Lurel wrung her hands before her. “Shall I call for tea, Highness?”
“I don’t want tea,” Mareleau said, eyes unfocused. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she felt a slight pang of guilt over Teryn’s fate. He’d gone to Khero for her Heart’s Hunt, after all. She’d wanted to rid herself of her suitors, but she hadn’t expected it to end likethis. Adding to that guilt was the fact that part of herwasn’tsorry. She’d gotten what she wanted. For now, at least. If Larylis’ rescue mission failed, she’d never have to worry about her unwanted engagement again.
Was it so terrible that she was considering such a benefit?
The door from the council room opened, sending her sitting upright. She expected Uncle Ulrich to come storming in to see who’d been spying on the meeting, but it wasn’t him.
It was Larylis.
They both froze at the same instant, their eyes locked on one another.
His mouth hung open for several seconds before he found his words. “I…I was just heading for the library.” He gestured toward the door at the other end of the drawing room. Then, backing up a step, he said, “I can use the main door.”
“No,” Mareleau said, keeping her expression neutral as she rose from her chair. “Lurel and I were just leaving anyway.”
He offered her a bow and began to brush past, not giving her a second glance. She glared at him, her chest bubbling with words she’d smothered in the depths of her heart for the last three years. Pursing her lips, she willed herself to say nothing, to follow Lurel out the door and back to her chambers. Larylis was almost at the opposite door when the words flew out of her mouth.
“Why didn’t you ever reply to my letter?”
Larylis froze with his fingers on the door handle. He turned to face her, expression hard. “Why would I have?”
Heat burned her cheeks, her body flooding with every ounce of rage she’d held on to since he’d broken her heart.
Lurel turned a pleading look on her. “Your parents wouldn’t want you talking to him,” she whispered.
“Leave us,” she said through her teeth.
Her cousin’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “I can’t leave you unchaperoned with a man. Your reputation?—”
“My reputation can go to the seven hells.”
“If anyone found out I left you with him, we’d both get in trouble.”
She burned the other girl with a glare. “Then don’t tell anyone.” Lurel was right, of course. Mareleau would never hear the end of it if either of their parents found out. Still, Mareleau hated being told what to do. And her confrontation with Larylis was long overdue. “Shut the door on your way out.”
“But—”
Mareleau raised her voice to a shout. “Out, you simpering fool. And if you tell anyone about this, I’ll…I’ll tell your friends about the time you wet your skirts last year.”
She gasped, her cheeks flushing crimson. “It was two years ago and I was sick.”
Mareleau only shrugged.
“You’re…you’re so cruel. I’m only trying to help you.” Without another word of argument, she turned on her heel and fled into the council room, closing the door behind her.
Mareleau shot a withering look at Larylis, but her stomach flipped as she met his stare. He leaned against the other door, arms crossed. His gaze locked on hers, his eyes narrowed to remind her that he didn’t love her anymore. Maybe he never did. She bit her lip, wondering if it had been a grave mistake to speak to him. Did she really want to know why he’d chosen to abandon her?
She wound her fingers through her makeshift braid, desperate to do something with her hands. “Then you admit you at least received my last letter.”
He shrugged. “If you can call it that.”
A stab of pain struck her chest. She’d poured her very soul into that letter. “Then why didn’t you respond? You could have saidsomething.”
“You made it clear you never wanted to hear from me again.”
