“You could learn. You have time.” Propping himself on his elbows in front of me, his eyes sparkled with mischief and a suggestive promise. “I could teach you.”
My lips twitched. “No offense, but I’m actually older than you, and I have never been able to figure it out. My specialty is burnt chicken ala overcooked pasta.”
He mimed being shot in the heart. “How do you not know how to cook pasta?”
“I have no affinity for it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
The sparkle was back in his eyes. “Would you like lessons?”
“I should think the queen won’t have time for such things.”
His gaze fell to the tabletop. “Marcielle loved to cook. It was something she and I used to do for fun.” His gaze rose from the table, and I was surprised to see a tinge of red at the edges of his eyes. “If you are awarded the ring, you will need a hobby as well. Something to take your mind off the constant pressure of ruling these greedy, hungry, power-mad beings. It is not just this stronghold you will rule. It is all of our enclaves around the world.”
Chewing my last mouthful of the étouffée carefully, I studied him. I believed that was the first time I had ever heard him speak his queen’s name since her death.
“Lord Pippin, I have no hobbies. I have no use for hobbies. And you know all of this already. I have done nothing but prepare for the throne since the day I was shuffled off to live with Grandfather. There has been nothing since, and there will be nothing after.”
The red faded from his eyes. “You do not know what it is to lose that which you love.”
I could feel the anger in my very veins, and he must have seen it in my eyes. He took a shocked step backward. Watching his retreat, I growled, “You made the choice, Pippin. You chose to be king. You chose Marcielle. And you—”
I swallowed. So long ago, and I was still angry.
“Gwen, it couldn’t be.”
Working my jaw, I managed to keep the ‘pissed off’ under control. “You decided it couldn’t be. And you left me in the bed, alone and didn’t even bother to let me knowwhyyou even left. I had to hear it from Adelie.”
This was refreshing, finally telling the truth.
My hurt. My anger.
It was all there in my eyes as I stared him down.
“I am sorry. Truly. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you did.” I rubbed at my forehead, my shoulders tightening in stress. “You were half the reason I chose to take my early Rest.”
“I was?” Honestly shocked, he blinked a few times.
My voice was barely above a vicious, angry whisper. “You abandoned me, Pippin. After my father had done that, and my grandfather was killed, and my grandmother died of a broken heart. I had no one but you. You kept me a secret and then left. I needed a break. From everything.”
“I’ve said I was sorry. I won’t do it again.” His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared…unrepentant. “It was for the crown, Gwen. You’re no different than me. Don’t pretend you are.”
I let the anger go like blood running down a drain. Because, no, I wasn’t any different than him. Except maybe I would have told my loverwhat the fuck had happened. I growled a little under my breath and flicked him one last glare. He was still an asshole—an asshole I still cared for.
Being a friend was a pain in the ass.
He surprised me, changing the topic.
His head tipped to the side; his beautiful eyes considered my features slowly. “You know, you look like your mother.”
My shoulders stiffened, and my breath caught in my chest. I plastered a smile on my face, teasing, “How would you know? You were born fifty years after me. My mother died when I was seven.”
“Have you never been in his rooms?” A brow rose. “In your father’s rooms?”
I cleared my throat and set my spoon in my bowl. “Not since I was seven. Why would I have any interest in going into his apartments?”
“He has her portrait hanging in his parlor. There is a single hair clasp sitting in front of it. The simple hair clasp is worn and tired.” A deep contemplative sigh escaped the youngest overlord’s lips. “We live on long after those we pledge to love are ripped from us.”
