Matthias’s brows scrunched, squirming as though he fought the urge to shuffle along the bench. ‘Of course, I’m not. I remember you talking me into leaping out of the window, and we went off to make honey biscuits with Bessie.’
I smiled. Elspeth had been our governess. A woman ill-suited for work with children. It was she who introduced first my backside, then Matthias’s, to the birch.
‘And what did I do to Elspeth after she beat you?’
Matthias chuckled, and I couldn’t help but smile back. ‘You dug up her dead cat and put it in her bed.’ He laughed again, and my heart lurched at the sound. ‘And then you wrote a note on hermirror, in that Gods awful purple lipstick she wore. What was it you wrote again?’
‘Evella was watching and knew she was beating a future king. She wasn’t happy and she’d start putting the corpses of the world under her pillow. Only, I couldn’t spell Evella properly and got caught out.’
Gods, even with the beatings, life had been easier before I began emerging.
‘I’d never known anyone stand up to a grownup before. Or punish a grownup for being cruel or wrong. I think…I think that was the moment I knew.’
I froze, allowing the mouse to run down my arm. ‘Knew what?’
The first spot of trembling rain fell onto my hand.
‘I knew I…I’d found the missing part of my soul. That I didn’t want to live a day of my life without you in it.’ He turned away again, shoulders hunched.
I exhaled a soft breath as my pulse thundered. I hated this; being vulnerable, bare, but I refused to hide away when our current argument hinged on Matthias’s decision to keep the truth from me.
‘So why won’t you let me beher? Do you honestly think I’ve changed that much?’ I cupped the mouse in my hands, where he twirled, his paws tickling my palm.
Matthias turned a wary eye my way. ‘I get it, Sorrow, I do. Since…the fall…’ He went quiet, one eye on the mouse. For a moment, I stared at his flexing hand, before taking it in mine, trying my hardest to ignore the way my skin flared against the warmth of his. Turning it palm up, I placed the mouse next to him. Matthias tugged back, but I held on.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll save you from the big, bad mouse.’
I told the mouse to walk onto Matthias’s hand. My gift flowed as naturally as breathing. I smiled as the mouse scampered fromme to him. I cupped Matthias’s hand with both of mine, recalling how they’d once been the same size, yet now his eclipsed my own.
‘I’ve been thinking of something,’ I said quietly, keeping my gaze fixed on the mouse.
‘How to scare a supposedly brave king with a tiny rodent?’
I smirked. ‘If I wanted to, I could call a whole horde of mice over.’
He squirmed in his seat, and I wrapped my hands tighter over his. The touch too bare, too little and my head tipped tantalisingly close towards his shoulder, halting moments before I laid it on him. It would be so easy. Terrifyingly easy.
‘So, what is it then?’
‘Your offer…deal…whatever this thing between us is.’
Matthias stiffened before lifting his other hand, and the mouse travelled across, nibbling the sleeve of his shirt.
‘I don’t think you’ve thought it through properly.’
Matthias sighed. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fucked up. Not that marrying you is fucking up,’ he added quickly, his free hand linking with my own. I let him, savouring his familiar touch.
‘I don’t quite understand what’s going on.’ The cracks in my voice scared me. He’d know what this meant. I watched him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.
‘I couldn’t believe Romero forced you to be his Tribute – your own stepfather. Enfys and I, we tried everything to get you out of there. I was out of options. I told Romero your mother promised you’d be my bride and he couldn’t sacrifice you. I told him it would break The Alliance’s treaties. Enfys supported me. Lied to her father despite her faith and her oaths to the Gods. It was the only way I could free you, Sorrow.’
I let my fingers curl into his and moved closer as the mouse ran up his sleeve.
I ran a lone finger over his wrist, and he stilled, the only movement the rise and fall of his chest. A question burned through me, stalling within. I had to know the answer, though.
‘And Enfys? Did you…are you disappointed Enfys isn’t your queen?’
He shuffled closer, so close his thigh met mine. ‘Marrying Enfys would be like marrying Skye. My mother’s been presenting potential brides since I turned twenty-one. My constant refusals are the reason she’s gone on tour. I wasn’t marrying anyone…till Romero refused to release you.’
