“I’m sure the crown prince would enjoy a visit from you,” the guard said when we reached one of the convening areas between wings. To the right led back to my chambers, to the left led to the healing infirmary. “He’s been asking for you.”
My heart tripped, nearly falling from my chest. While I was immensely relieved the prince was mending and I wouldn’t be the reason for his demise, I still didn’t know how I felt around him. I had a hard time controlling my reactions to him. This ridiculous attraction overtook me at times, and I didn’t like that. Therefore, the easiest way to pretend that I was indifferent was to avoid the prince.
“Well?” Sandus asked. “Should we stop by to say hello?”
“Um . . .” I twisted my hands.
“He’s asked for you.” Sandus raised his eyebrows, his meaning clear. The prince wanted to see me, and what the prince wanted, the prince got.
Sighing, I replied, “As you wish. Lead the way.”
CHAPTER 9
“These are the most ludicrous demands I’ve ever heard.” Prince Norivun’s growly comment fluttered into the hallway. “I’m fine.”
“If you try to return to duty now,” Murl replied in a painstakingly patient tone, “you risk the chance of tearing your wound. By nighttime, you shall be fully healed. Please, my prince, allow yourself to rest for another few hours. That’s all I’m asking.”
“These inane, insufferable rules—” Prince Norivun’s griping cut off when Sandus strode into the room with me in tow.
The crown prince, not surprisingly, had his own suite in the healing infirmary. Calming scents of lavender filled the air. The setting sunlight streamed into the windows, and a crackling fire filled the hearth.
The prince sat propped up in bed, his chest bare. A nasty-looking cut ran the entire width of his abdomen.
I stared at his laceration, my throat going dry. A flash of that wound pierced my thoughts. It was freshly sliced open, blood flowing freely, intestines showing . . .
I worked a swallow. The snowgum had come so close to killing him—so close. The infallible crown prince, the one who always caused pain versus receiving it, the fairy feared above all in our land, had nearly died from the lethal predator.
Sandus gave a mocking bow when we reached the prince’s bedside. “Prince Norivun, I bring the dearest Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory, to your bedside to keep you company whilst you mend.” The guard’s eyes glittered with amusement, making me think that perhaps such a wound wasn’t that uncommon after all for the prince.
I studied the other long scar on his abdomen, the one running up his side. I wondered how many other scars the prince had that I was unaware of or how many previous injuries Murl had healed that’d left no scar.
The Bringer of Darkness glared at Sandus before looking me up and down. My bruises from the snowgum’s pounce were hidden, but the prince’s masterful aura surrounded me as though he were a great seeing eye, able to detect every malady and ailment that had ever occurred to me in my fleeting life.
I crossed my arms and resisted the urge to fidget. Magic hummed in my gut. Despite training vigorously with Matron Olsander all afternoon, my strength had returned and was far from depleted.
“Leave us.” The prince flicked a finger at Murl and Sandus just as voices came from the hallway. Before either of them could depart, Lord Crimsonale and his son Michas flounced into the room.
Well, Lord Crimsonale flounced. Michas simply followed him.
A glacial expression descended over the prince’s face, and Murl bowed before departing. Sandus merely smirked and strolled leisurely after the healer. The guard winked at me before closing the door but barely veiled a sneer in the Crimsonale’s direction.
“Lord Crimsonale, what brings you here?” The authority in the prince’s tone was back. One would never have guessed he’d uttered it from his deathbed.
The older lord glided toward us, giving me a long, lingering appraisal before reaching the prince. “We’ve only come to ensure your well-being.”
Michas also cut me a look that while tense, didn’t hold the derision his father’s did. I remembered our conversation again on the balcony at the Betrothed Ball. Michas had a history with Prince Norivun. It’d made him accuse the prince of lying to me and sneaking into the castle to kill the fae that had gone missing. While I’d believed the prince in the end about not conducting those horrific acts, I didn’t actually know the truth.
But perhaps Cailis could help me with that.
“How kind of you,” the prince replied sarcastically. “But while I’m sure you were hoping to find me in a much dire state, I can assure you I’ll be back to my princely duties by the morn.”
The elder lord’s eyes shuttered. “How fortunate.”
Prince Norivun smirked before he addressed Michas dryly. “And what of you? Any words of affection or well wishes?”
Michas ground his jaw and balled his fists. Bowing, he replied, “Best of wishes for a swift recovery.”
Prince Norivun’s eyes only darkened further as Lord Crimsonale added, “Your father asked me to remind you that you have council meetings this week that you must attend.” He gave another look in my direction. “Your time away of late is no longer acceptable.”
“I see,” the prince replied easily, but I still caught the tension in his jaw. “Please remind my father that I know exactly what my duties are.”
“Of course.” Lord Crimsonale bowed. “Have a blessed evening, my prince.”
With that, they both strode from the room.
Once they were gone, I just stood there. The crown prince’s aura threatened to swallow me—it was running so high. Crackling from the fire filled the room, but other than that, it was silent save for the blood thundering through my ears.
“Come here,” the prince finally said.
I inched closer to his side but didn’t sit down. I had no idea how to interpret the Crimsonale’s visit, so I opted for a generic, “How do you feel?” since the prince seemed intent on studying me, yet his expression gave away nothing.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
I waved at his stomach. “Perhaps it’s that claw that nearly ripped you in two. Just a theory.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Ah, that sharp tongue of yours is making an appearance again.”
I played with my tunic’s hem. “Well, perhaps you shouldn’t ask such asinine questions then, and my tongue would stay still.”
His lips curved up more, and I wanted to kick myself that we actually had a private joke now, and I’d just used it.
Smoothing his expression, he patted his bedside. “Sit.”
“Is that an order?”
“Isn’t everything I say an order?”
Rolling my eyes, I did as he said but made sure to keep a respectable amount of distance between us.