Paisley howled. Loud and unholy. His hands flew to his eyes as he stumbled backward, gasping, cursing, red-faced and blinded.
The room froze.
“My eyes!” the man hollered. “What have you done?”
Maddie arched a brow. “A woman must always carry something sharp. Sometimes it’s wit. Sometimes it’s cayenne.”
Ashley and Charlene burst into delighted laughter.
Sebastian’s jaw slackened before he broke into a grin so wicked it nearly matched Maddie’s.
Charlene murmured, “Oh, she’s terrifying. I love it.”
The vicar made a strangled noise.
Paisley slumped to the floor, wheezing like a bellows. No one moved to help him. From somewhere in the chapel, Maddie’s mother let out a sob. She’d all but forgotten about her presence since the prince’s arrival, but Maddie couldn’t provide any comfort now, nor did she wish to.
“You didn’t need me at all, did you?” Sebastian whispered in her ear.
She smiled at him. “No. But I wanted you.”
He kissed her temple. “You’re magnificent.”
*
Rage had neverfelt this liberating.
Not the blind, reckless kind that made men foolish. No, this wasthe kind that sharpened the senses, that burned behind the eyes with relentless purpose. It was a forge, and Sebastian was steel passing through it. He wanted to strike. Every muscle in his body itched to move. To bury Paisley where he stood.
But Maddie stood beside him. Not hiding. Not cowering.
Her spine was straight, her chin high, her mouth set in a line that dared anyone to try her. The fire in her eyes wasn’t borrowed. It was hers. Earned.
And that steadied him more than anything ever could. He’d chosen her peace over his vengeance.
She didn’t need saving.
She needed someone ready to battle the worldwithher.
He was more than ready.
His gaze swept the chapel—a pitiful farce of a place. Dried-out flowers wilting in cracked vases. Threadbare pews leaning like old men tired of kneeling. A vicar clutched his book of vows like it was a talisman against disaster. Maddie’s mother had slipped out, as far as he could tell. And in the center of it all, a coward in fine boots, undone by the very woman he’d tried to cage.
“This place,” Sebastian said, voice low, “feels more like a tomb than a chapel.”
Maddie didn’t look away from Paisley. But her hand slid into his. Warm. Sure. “Let’s go home.”
The words landed soft but steady—like a stone tossed into still water.
He nodded once. “Yes. Please.”
Ashley, behind them, cracked her knuckles with a mutinous sigh. “I was hoping for one more punch.”
“I know,” Charlene said, still eyeing Paisley. “He has a very slappable face.”
Ashley huffed. “Disappointing.”
Prince Alexander cleared his throat. “Asdelightful as this court of justice has been, I agree with Cambridge. Let’s leave this drafty ruin behind. I haven’t seen my wife in days, and I’d much rather be with her than among… this.”
