“What do you mean?” she asked.
Before she got to know the prince, she’d always assumed that life in the castle was glorious. Everyone did. She’d passed many cold winter nights listening to the wind screaming like a wailing mother and fantasizing about life in the royal castle with other soldiers. Now, she knew that wasn’t the case, but she was curious.
He resumed drawing on her leg, the movement seeming more purposeful this time. “I was really sick as a child. Did you know that?”
She nodded before she remembered he couldn’t see her. “You had the Wasting Illness, right?”
“That’s right. My sister worked tirelessly to find a cure, even thougheveryone else said it was a lost cause. She saved my life, and I owe her everything.”
Vivienne’s eyes widened. “Really?” No wonder Marius seemed so close to the queen. “That’s incredible.”
Thank the gods, the queen had saved Marius. Vivienne couldn’t imagine this world without him in it.
“It is,” he agreed. “I got better, and after the old queen died, Luna and Sebastian moved me into the castle with them. My sister hired tutors to help with my education since I had a lot to catch up on. They made me study for hours on end.”
Vivienne snorted as the image of the young prince sitting at a table in the library, kicking his feet, flashed through her mind.
“What’s so funny?” he asked indignantly.
“I just can’t imagine you reading all day, that’s all.” She elbowed him. “Did you even sit still?”
“I didn’t.” A baritone chuckle rumbled through him. “I went through a lot of tutors, and I’m fairly certain the only reason they remained as long as they did was to please Sebastian and Luna.”
“Oh?”
He squeezed her kneecap, his hand warm on her leg. “You may find this hard to believe, but I was a somewhat difficult child.”
“What?” She gasped in mock-shock. “You? The prince who practically blackmailed me into coming with you. Ineverwould’ve guessed that about you.”
Vivienne had meant it as a joke, but his hand stiffened. He inhaled sharply, and the air thickened as he moved closer to her.
“Viv, I… I’m sorry about that.”
Her brows furrowed. “You don’t need to apologize again, Prince. I already told you; I forgive you. Besides, if you hadn’t… encouraged me to join you?—”
“Fancy way to say ‘forced,’” he interjected.
“Okay, forced.” She bit back a grin, pleased that the prince was seeing things from her perspective. “If you hadn’t forced me to come, I never would’ve had the chance to fight a fabled creature of lore.”
His hand lifted from her knee, but before she could mourn the lack of his touch, he brushed a hair from her shoulder.
“Is that why you agreed to come with me?” His voice dropped to a hushed whisper, and she could’ve sworn she felt the brush of his breath against her cheek.
She inhaled sharply, considering his question.
From the first moment Vivienne had laid eyes on Marius Wisethorn, something about him had called to her. He radiated an inherent sense of life that she’d never seen in this place of frigid death. There was a sharpness in his eyes, and there was a magnetic wildness about him that made her want to know more about him.
Even so, that wasn’t why she was here.
“No,” she murmured. “That’s not why I agreed to come.”
She’d had time to think about this over the past four days. Why had she agreed to come when he’d promised her freedom from Ravenwood Dungeon either way?
Vivienne knew the answer, but she was afraid of what would happen if she said it out loud.
The reason she’d agreed was the same reason the prince had haunted her dreams since she followed him out of the university ball. The same reason she’d reminded herself of her duty a hundred times a day since that fateful night. The same reason why she had to remember the barriers between them. The same reason that was keeping her from answering him now.
She wasn’t sure what would happen if she opened that door.
