But I also know that I can’t go pissing him off even more. Especially not so soon after he struck me in the carriage. I need to wash my face, change my dress, and get my ass down to the Hall for dinner. That’s one of my rules—always be there for the late meal.
Can’t go breaking any rules right now. Not if I want to make it through this month intact.
And that’s a fresh fear blooming inside of me.
He was so close to killing me in that carriage. I could see it in the blizzards of his eyes, the rage that warped his mouth into something savage, something that ached to rip out my throat with one vicious bite.
Remember who he is.
Remember this—what I’m looking at in the mirror, all the bruises and cuts and tear-streaks. Remember how close he came to destroying me all over a misunderstanding.
How easily he would kill me for rule-breaking now.
So I force myself to peel away from the mirror and make for my wardrobe. There, I fish out a satin bodice that comes with a long skirt with a thigh-high split on one side. I change into it with heavy limbs.
The last thing I want is to share a meal with him right now.
I want to run away, to flee this place, and hide in my room back at the farmhouse. But that would only bring down an even greater wrath—and it would most certainly end with my bloody, drawn-out death. Hell, he might even kill my family just to punish me more.
Can’t risk anything, not even these dangerous thoughts.
One month. That’s all.
Just stick to the rules for one month, keep my mouth shut unless he speaks to me, don’t look at another male, and do as I’m told. Spread my legs for him.
The thought twists my face with a fresh wave of tears. I thought I was all out of them, but they’re back to prove me wrong.
Sniffling, I wipe my damp nose with the edge of my hand and make my way out of the bedroom and through the castle to the Hall.
I’m right on time. I know it when I enter the grand room and spot the waiting slaves by the wall, the silver roller-tray parked between Terry and the others, ready for our meals to be dished out.
But the prince is nowhere in sight. And I notice, as I draw closer to my seat next to his, that his place isn’t set for the meal.
I frown at Terry—whose pity-filled eyes wander my neck—before I look to the butler for answers.
He bows his head, hands clasped behind his back, and takes a step forward. “Prince Daein will not be joining you tonight. He left the castle soon after you both arrived back from the marketplace, and gave no time as to his return.”
A ribbon of relief unwinds throughout my body. It relaxes noticeably with a loosened breath and a slump of the shoulders. Even my hands unclench at my sides.
Fine by me, I want to say, but of course I keep my mouth shut. I don’t trust that butler to not tell the prince what I’ve said about him.
In the Hall, I eat alone and in silence.
My appetite has left me, so I only pick at my meal with dull eyes and a heavy heart. It’s when Terry changes my dish for dessert and murmurs into my ear that I’m given a slight reprieve—“Break of the Quiet at the lake.”
It’s something fun to do to take my mind off the prince.
I give a faint nod in answer, but my heart’s not quite in it.
Knowing I can’t go home yet, all I really want to do is find Hilda and weep into her. She has a mother’s touch.
That’s what I crave right now.
That’s what I need.
One more month...