Tears clouded my vision, but I refused to let him see me cry.Caiman leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
For a moment, I remembered the way his lips had felt that day four years ago. We’d both been so bumbling and awkward, I’d ended up in a fit of giggles.
She’s a monster.
Those words were all I could hear as he straightened and offered me his arm. I forced myself to take it, the sleeve of his coat soft beneath my fingertips. A riotous cheer lifted as we turned to face the eager crowd. My mother dabbed at her cheeks from where she sat next to the king, a comforting hand over his limp one.When we reached the door, two servants waited with wide umbrellas to stave off the rain. The red carpet sloshed beneath my slippers as we took the short walk through the courtyard to the castle.
Caiman didn’t bother trying to make small talk, but I dared a glance at him from beneath my lashes. Dark, slashing brows. Straight, regal nose. High, sharp cheekbones. Slightly pointed chin. Full lips—My stomach fluttered.
Traitor.
That’s what I was.
A traitor to true love.
What followed was a blur of food and drink, dancing and well-wishes. Lowri stayed at my side for all of it, feeding me glass after glass of faerie wine.
At some point late in the night, the king lifted his goblet with a trembling hand and clinked his spoon against it until the raucous laughter and conversations quieted. “Our dearest friends and family, we thank you all for braving the rain today to help us celebrate this momentous occasion.” He turned, his sunken eyes crinkling with his smile. “Roisin, you are a rare beauty indeed, a vision of poise and grace. My son—” The king’s voice broke. “My son is a lucky man.”
I felt Caiman’s eyes on me but didn’t dare look toward him, focusing instead on the way his father blinked back tears.
“Caiman, I am proud of the man you have become, someone who puts duty and kingdom above all else.”
Caiman shifted on his chair.
The king raised his goblet toward the glittering chandelier. “To Prince Caiman and Princess Roisin.”
The rest of the crowd mimicked the movement, repeating after him.
I put the first part out of my mind and focused on the second.I was now a princess, something every little girl dreamed of at least once in her life. If only the new title hadn’t come with such heavy burdens.
Caiman raised his glass, then took a small sip before setting it aside.
I guzzled what was left of mine. Lowri had another one waiting for me.
“I’m not sure I can stomach it,” I confessed, glaring at the greenish-yellow liquid as it sloshed around in my glass.
“Do you really want to remember today? I know I certainly don’t,” she muttered.
I didn’t want to remember anything either. Past, present, or future. The gold band on my finger felt heavy. Why was it so heavy? My hair felt heavy too. And my shoes. I should probably take them off. My shoes, not my hair. I giggled to myself.
Lowri forced the glass stem between my fingers before adjusting the slipping neckline on my wedding dress.
Caiman glanced sidelong at me, raising an arrogant brow.By the time I finished, my face felt all tingly, and there wasn’t one Caiman but two. And both of them were scowling at me as he offered his gloved hand.What was he doing that for? I didn’t want to hold his hand. Why did he wear those silly gloves anyway?
The twin Caimans cleared their throats. “It is customary for a husband to dance with his wife at the wedding,” he said in that low voice of his. I hated that it made my heart clench. I hated everything about him. His irritatingly handsome face. His obnoxiously dark eyes. His too-full lips.
One dance. That was all. Then I could stumble away from the festivities and hide in my chambers.
“Fine.” I put my hand in his, my knees nearly giving out when I pushed from the chair. “Let’s get this over with.” Hopefully no one noticed my abandoned shoes beneath the dining table. It probably didn’t offer the best impression to be going around the place barefoot. Still, my feet deserved to be free even though I couldn’t be.
Caiman held me steady as I swayed. This music was terrible. Were the musicians playing from different songs?“You can barely stand. What were you thinking, drinking that much?” he said through his teeth, his smile brittle as he nodded to men in black dinner jackets and women in fancy hats.
“I was thinking I needed to be drunk to marry you.”
The muscles in his jaw worked. I could hear his teeth grinding together. The musicians stopped their terrible whinging to strike up a slow waltz. Caiman took my hand in his, slipping it onto his shoulder. The definition beneath his jacket came as a shock. When we were younger, he’d been so skinny. He was still slim, nothing like his broad-shouldered brother, but there was strength there too. I clasped his gloved hand, the leather warm and soft. His free hand found my waist, pulling me toward him. The space between us, although conventional, felt too small.
He was too close.
