I began to dismount, but Bennett placed his hands on my shoulders. I stiffened.
“Cissa,” he said. “Don’t go.”
A part of me wanted to melt into his arms. But I thought about the palace. How lonely and cavernous it was there. How within those walls, it was no longer just me and Bennett. He was the crown prince and I was merely his shadow—something that dissolved into insignificance the moment the sun rose. And besides, did he really want me to stay even after everything I said?
Bennett gently squeezed my arm. “We have to be back for the Ambassadors Ball.”
“Why is thatallyou talk about?” I sobbed.
“Cissa—”
I threw his hands off. “That’s it. Don’t touch me.”
I swung my leg over the saddle and dismounted gracelessly onto the grass. It was barely light enough to register the stricken look on his face.
Good, I thought angrily.Let him be hurt the same way I am.
I turned my face away. Despite everything, I loved him too well to mean it.
I started for the gates, but something yanked me back. The horse whinnied in protest. The hem of my dressing gown was caught in the stirrup.
Great.
Bennett dismounted and went to it immediately. But my pride was too wounded to let him play the chivalrous prince. I fumbled with the hooks and eyes of the dressing gown and tore it off of me. The night air bit at my arms as Bennett glanced at the discarded pile of silk incredulously, then at my nightgown. His cheeks flushed.
“Cissa, you can’t wear that inside,” he shouted after me as I marched toward the gate. The dried grass scratched my ankles. I barely made it five paces before a loud rip followed, then rapid footsteps.
Bennett threw the dressing gown over my shoulders and stepped forward to face me. His hair was in disarray, his expression bewildered.
“Please, Narcissa,” Bennett said. He reached out to touch my cheek, but seemed to think better of it. “Let’s...let’s just go home.”
“Iamhome.”
“But—”
“The palace is your home, not mine!You’renot mine.” I swallowed another sob, but the tears fell anyway. They dripped from my cheek to Bennett’s still outstretched hand. He stared at them, his lips parted.
I fled.
9
Why Captain Greenwood’s daughter showed up in the dead of night wearing nothing but a rumpled dressing gown would surely be the topic of gossip for the rest of the week.
Lady Vanessa met me at the entrance, sleep mussed and disoriented by my sudden appearance, but welcoming nonetheless. She sent servants to prepare my room while my maid, Tizzy, drew me a hot bath. I was glad neither of them commented on my tear-stained cheeks.
