Page 114 of The Prince’s Plaything

I blush. “N-nothing. We just um… we shook hands and the bond was sealed,” I reply while my eldest sister, Amaryllis, glares at me.

When the guards let us out of our bedchambers, I wasn’t surprised to find her hiding amongst the shrubbery surrounding our dance circle. Especially considering Kasimir, her assassin fiancé, had snuck in with Father’s guards in the throne room.

Kasimir told me they’d arrived at the palace this morning after Blossom sent a rather desperate letter to them both. Apparently, they were going to set off to rescue me from the manor tonight. But I’m glad fate meant we didn’t miss them. Even if my oldest sister’s magical gift is that she can sense when people are lying.

And judging by her fierce glare, she absolutely knows I just lied to Heather.

“What does the bond feel like?” Gilia asks.

I shrug. “Normal, I suppose. Maybe a bit warm at times.”

“Does this mean you’re married now?” Kalimeris tilts her head.

“Well, no but we’re getting married in the spring⁠—”

“Why would you marry someone who tricked you?” Liliana cuts me off.

Iris scoffs, “Because clearly she’s in love with him.”

“No she’s not!” Heather argues.

“She’s still wearing his ring.” Iris points at my sapphire engagement ring.

Before I can wonder why I’ve never taken it off, I’m pulled away from the group by Amaryllis. She drags me over to the other side of our dance circle. The second we’re far enough from the girls that we can’t be overheard, she whispers, “Did Prince Lux force himself upon you?”

“What?” I squeak.

“Did he? You cannot lie to me, Eden.”

“No, he didn’t,” I reply truthfully. “I… I wanted it. Always.” Shame burns at my cheeks. Even now, a part of me is desperate to run back inside the palace and find wherever Father has them locked away. I know what they did to me was awful, but I didn’t completely hate it. Not all of the time.

“It’s a complicated situation, Ami.”

She nods, pulling her cloak tighter. “My situation with Prince Orion was complicated too.” I want to tell her that this is nothing like that when I feel someone clutch my arm.

“Do you know where they’re keeping Camellia?” The voice is so broken, I almost don’t recognise her.

I turn to find Blossom, my second eldest sister, hugging her chest. Huge bags darken her eyes and her black hair is a frizzy mess. Even her pink dance gown has been laced up incorrectly, the laces of her bodice just as tangled as the ribbons of her pointe shoes.