The prince’s clothes were soaked now. Puddles gathered on the glass around his sandaled feet, but he ignored that.
“Your mother couldn’t bear for the prophecy to come true,” the prince said, cautiously keeping the pool between Kye and himself. “She tried to change your fate.”
“And instead, she fulfilled the prophecy even faster,” Kye replied flatly. “I never wanted to believe it, but essentially, every single part of that vile prophecy has come true, hasn’t it?”
His head dropped between his hunched shoulders, he didn’t look up as his uncle carefully sidestepped him along the wall.
“It wasn’t the queen’s fault,” the prince said cautiously.
“No, it was not,” Kye agreed. “It was mine. Is that what you want to hear? Do you want me to admit it? Regret it? Repent maybe? But what’s the point in any of it now? What would it change? Nothing.”
Coming as close as he dared, the prince stopped, looking like he really wished to leave now but was afraid to trigger another outburst in his royal nephew who was sitting in his way to the exit.
“Your Majesty...” the prince started hesitantly.
Kye slowly rose to his feet.
“Go,” he said. “Find a few guards brave enough and pay them whatever they ask. Tell them they can come in after dinner, just before I go to bed. They can leave the moment I’m up in the morning. I won’t enter the great hall while they’re here, and I won’t come close to touching them. I don’t even need them to fight the monsters if they appear again. I’ll fight the creatures myself. All I need is for someone to wake me at any sign of danger.” He rubbed his eyes, his voice dropping. “I’ve been up for three nights now. I need to sleep.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Prince Arnon bowed ceremoniously, turned to the exit, and...finally spotted me.
I straightened and walked down the corridor into the great hall, pretending I’d just walked into the palace instead of eavesdropping on a good chunk of their conversation.
“And you are?” The prince arched a dark-gray eyebrow.
Turning over his shoulder, Kye followed his uncle’s gaze toward me.
“Oh, there you are, my butterfly,” he said lightly, the devastating sadness draining from him in my presence.
I winced at yet another nickname. No one had as many nicknames for me as Kye did. Even Liam mostly called me by my name, using “babe” on rare occasions, which I also disliked. Kye seemed to have a whole arsenal of silly endearments, ranging from cringy to patronizing, to cloying, and he kept coming up with new ones all the time. “Butterfly” wasn’t the worst of them, though. Besides, it proved hard to feel displeased with him when he looked at me like I was the only ray of sunshine that brightened his existence.
“Don’t you look lovely?” A smile sprang to his lips as he took in the ribbons in my hair.
“Oh, thanks.” I almost forgot about my new hairdo.
I brought my hand to the ribbon on my shoulder, glancing at the prince uncertainly. He stood nearby but said nothing, just eyeing me for a few moments.
“Oh, right.” Kye turned to him. “Allow me to introduce my highly esteemed uncle, His Highness Prince Arnon, the current regent of Olathana Kingdom. And this is my dearest guest, Maren.”
“Blackwell,” I added, offering my hand to the prince. “Maren Blackwell. Nice to meet you.”
The prince took my hand but seemed unsure of what to do with it. I offered it to him for a handshake, but he tried to turn it over as if for a kiss. Not letting him succeed at that, I shook his hand firmly, then retrieved mine promptly from him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the prince muttered before hastily saying his goodbyes and leaving promptly.
“He could’ve at least dried his clothes before leaving,” Kye noted grumpily. “Now they’ll say I came unhinged again and tossed my uncle into the pool.”
“Has that happened?” I asked. “Do you actually toss people into pools?”
He shrugged. “Occasionally. But most do it themselves. Some run away. Others swim away. No one wants to stay here for long. Admit it, you would’ve flown away too, my pretty butterfly, if you had a choice.”
I would’ve if I could, but I didn’t admit it out loud. I didn’t want to bring him down again after the intense conversation he’d had with his uncle.
“Did you argue about me?” I asked instead.
He rubbed his chest, suppressing a sigh. “Oh, we argue about many things, my darling. All we do is argue whenever he comes by, which is probably why he hates coming here.”
“What do you argue about?”
