My sister does look uncommonly pale. Her usual vivacity is gone; she leans weakly in her chair, eyes half closed. Guilt pricks me for not noticing sooner. I leave my mother’s side and kneel beside her.
“Mari, are you alright? Did you come in contact with the rot?” Her lips are nearly white, her skin ashen as Astoria helps support her.
“Darian went to call the footmen to arrange a carriage. We weren’t sure if Mari could walk on her own,” Astoria says.
I nod, wondering whether I should wait for Prince Leland. I’m not sure what I’d even say to him, and I desperately want to be alone to sort out my feelings about both kisses. But I need to stay and help with the cleanup. One of us should, and I know Astoria and Darian will see that Mari gets the care she needs.
Mother climbs into the carriage first, hardly glancing back as the footmen help Mari in. Astoria follows, but Darian lingers.
His spectacles are askew, his strawberry-blonde hair a mess of tangled waves. “I’m staying here to help clean up. You should go back, Genny. You look like you need to rest.”
I shake my head, determined to help where I can. “Let’s go together.”
Darian doesn’t argue as he shuts the carriage door, sending our sisters and mother safely on their way. The carriage moves off, the team of horses trotting smoothly down the lane.
“Alright then,” he remarks, giving me a skeptical grin. “What do you plan to do now, Genny?”
Yes, it isn’t like me to stay near danger. I’ve always been treated like something fragile—and fragile things get tucked away when life grows difficult, put on a shelf and forgotten until it’s time for a dusting.
But I’m not something breakable. I am the future of this kingdom, and if I run from its hardships, what trust will my people have in me?
“We get to work, dear brother,” I say, and together we go to help our people.
19
Kieran
By the time I’m back at Fairbright Palace, I’m hopeful that my bodily exhaustion will result in a deep, restful night’s sleep. I slide into the soft bed sheets, promising myself not to go to Gen’s room tonight. Not after I stole that kiss from her under the willow tree, after I felt her soft body pressed against mine, the way she became pliant and willing in my arms, even after fighting against what I knew she needed most.
No, if I go to her room now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off her—and I want her to be the one coming to me next. She’s had a taste of what we once had, and I want her to be insatiable for it the next time we kiss.
But, of course, sleep doesn’t come. It never comes easily after my time in the mines, but a day like this makes decent sleep impossible. The close work of instructing Gabriel and his soldiers on how to safely remove the rot did nothing but bring back my own dark memories of holding it back deep underground.
Then there was Gen, working side by side with the townspeople to clean up after the celebration that never happened, serving the uneaten food to those who looked like they needed it most.
Her compassion was unexpected. I’d thought she would be safely ensconced back at Fairbright before the cleanup even began. Maybe I’ve been too harsh on her all this time. Maybe she isn’t destined to become like her mother. For Naseria’s sake, I hope this wasn’t just a bid for praise but a genuine desire to make a difference for the people around her.
Not even Leland stayed to help. Not after Kalise demanded they return to the palace for “private matters.” Kalise wouldn’t even look me in the eyes, which makes me wonder if she suspects there’s more between Genevieve and me.
If she does, she’s not publicly accusing either of us—but how long will that last? And do I want to see Gen ruined any longer?
My own jealous heart got the better of me this afternoon. I couldn’t stand there any longer, watching Gen paraded about like a porcelain doll, only to be humiliated by that terrible kiss. Anyone could see she wasn’t interested in kissing Leland, yet she’d endured it for the crown, for what she’s expected to do.
Seeing Leland overcome by her touch was almost more than I could bear. If it hadn’t been for the spreading rot, I might have done something very foolish, like knock a prince out for touching what shouldn’t be his.
But sheishis. She’s making a mistake, day after day, choosing a life she’ll soon regret. And I can’t stop her. I’m the one who left her, even if it was her own words that drove me away.
I finally give up the false hope of sleep and quickly dress. The key to Gen’s room sits on my night table. I shouldn’t go there; I have no intention of going near her tonight, but I slip it into my pocketanyway. I can always just check on her, maybe bring a flower for her to see in the morning.
I make my way toward the garden wall separating the public grounds from the Ashcroft gardens. As I climb over the wall, the bell tolls one. Gen should be asleep by now. I pluck a bundle of bright peonies, their crisp floral scent reminding me of the way she felt in my arms, the tiny sighs she made as we kissed.
This is a mistake—coming here after I’ve touched her, after her lips moved against mine and she pressed her unbound breasts to me. It will take everything I have not to stroke her soft hair, not to slide into her bed beside her. But that’s not why I’m here. No, I just want to bring her flowers. I need the reassurance that, after this difficult day, she’s found the rest she deserves.
The hidden door creaks open, revealing an empty room. A fire crackles in the hearth, and a gas lamp burns low, making the space warm and inviting. I place the flowers on the bedside table and turn to leave. I don’t particularly want to get caught sneaking into Gen’s rooms. She knows I have the key; if she wants me here, she’ll invite me in.
“Kieran, is that you?” Gen’s voice carries from the sitting room. She steps into her bedroom wearing a lavender silk nightdress that cascades down to her bare feet. “I knew you were the one bringing me flowers. I should have thanked you sooner.”
For a beat too long, I’m transfixed by her—the soft fall of her strawberry-peach tresses, the way her unbound breasts shift with her every movement, the trace of silk over her full hips. But then I notice the tension in her jaw, the weariness in her puffy eyes.
