“I’m being hopeful. I’m counting on Stormheart carrying my limp, useless body without complaining after I take the elixir. You may have to tie me to his back to prevent me from falling on my face, though.” He seemed amused at the thought.
“I see.”
Once more, we rode in silence for a few minutes. As I tried to spark some conversation, I mulled over how little I knew about him. After I broke up with Jonathan—once that amazing chemistry between us fizzled out and I realized we had nothing in common—I started dating males of substance, guys I could have interesting conversations with to make up for the lackluster sex. At some point, I’d decided that it was impossible to have both body and mind chemistry, that I had to content myself with one or the other—not that I ever found another Jonathan. Not until now.
“So… what does the prince do with his time?” I asked, unsure of whether or not I wanted him to be the full package. Because if he was, what then?
“Lounge around and eat cheese and grapes,” he said.
“Oh.”
He laughed. “Hardly. Honestly, it’s not an easy life. Some would say ‘oh, poor little rich prince, his life is so miserable with all that gold and comfort,’ but they haven’t been in my shoes. My younger brother… now, he could tell you all about the cheese and grapes.”
“I imagine that being the heir to the throne kept you away from enjoying the same pleasures?”
“Exactly. I had to learn about, well, everything.”
“Everything?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He shrugged. “It felt that way. History, philosophy, diplomacy, geography, mathematics, religion, strategy, sociology, politics, the list goes on and should be multiplied by two.”
I frowned, not getting his meaning.
“I had to also learn those things in relation to your realm,” he explained.
“Ouch. And were you the scholarly type?”
“I had no choice but to be. It was either try to enjoy it or be entirely miserable. Thankfully, there was also battle training, which was where I released all my frustrations.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose I’ve had it easy compared to you.”
Frowning, I started to fear that once he found out more about me,hewould be the one wondering if I possessed anysubstance. If he launched into some philosophical discussion, I would be lost.
“It’s not so bad now that my core education is complete,” he said. “There’s always more to learn, of course, but these days, my woes are entirely different, as you well know.”
“Besides us, are there others who know about your ailment?”
He shrugged.
“Your parents don’t know?”
At this question, a muscle ticked in his jaw. “My father doesn’t know, and he should never know.”
For a moment, a dark cloud seemed to settle over his brow. If even the mere thought of his father learning of his condition soured his mood so drastically, I didn’t want to imagine how he would feel if he actually found out. But what about his mother? What was he leaving unsaid?
I wanted to ask what would happen if we didn’t find a way to cure him. Would his grape-eating brother have to become king? Would that spell disaster for the Seelie Court? Probably, if his brother was as inept as Kalyll made him sound. But I knew I couldn’t ask any of this. It was too personal, not to mention a subject that seemed to put him in a bad mood.
Kalyll took a deep breath, glanced at the faraway mountains for a long moment, and when he turned to look at me again, his expression was tranquil, genuinely, which I admired. He seemed very good at compartmentalizing his feelings, even with all the terrible things he was dealing with. The emotions relating to the deaths he’d caused last night would have been enough to bring a lesser male to his knees, but not Prince Kalyll Adanorin.
“I want you to know that I sent a message to your sister,” he said.
“What?”
“Toni will soon know where you are and with whom. I didn’t want your family to worry about you, and I know that peace of mind will be yours as well.”
“Thank you.”
“Please, don’t thank me when I created the problem in the first place.”