Page 142 of Fearless

I force my gaze toward Kitt. “I’m… I’m not sure anymore. You are far more difficult to read.”

The king watches me for a long moment. “Well, you will have plenty of time to figure me out.”

“Right.” I swallow. “The wedding is in three days.”

This was as much a surprise to the kingdom as it was to me. I froze on that dais, hand in the king’s and heart in my throat.

Three days.

So soon I would lose my freedom, my heart, my love. Kai’s eyes flick to mine, and the hurt in his gaze only amplifies the grief in my own. I will be tethered to him for the rest of our lives, but not in the way either of us had hoped.

“Easel insists that we perform a second ceremony on Loot,” Kitt says curtly. “He thinks it will help unite the people further if the slums are included in our celebrations. It’s unusual, for sure, but—”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I add quickly.

Kai’s nod is distant, but I don’t miss the bite in his voice. “Two weddings. Even better.”

And then he is on his feet.

“Kai—”

He cuts through my plea with curt words of his own. “There is much for me to do before the ceremony.” Those stormy eyes meet mine. “I’ll give you two some time to figure one another out.”

Before I can argue, he’s disappeared up the shadowy stairs.

I loose a sigh into the damp air. “He has a lot on his mind, I’m sure.”

“You, mostly.”

I whip toward him. “I’m sorry?”

“There is no need to feign surprise, Paedyn.” Kitt’s words are clipped. His face dulls without his brother to brighten it, gaunt cheeks stark inthe flickering light. Ruling has already taken its toll on him. “We both know that Kai’s heart belongs to you.”

“And you,” I add sternly. “He loves you enough to not interfere with your plans.”

Kitt stares down at his bottle, swirling what remains within it. “Time will tell.”

I clear my throat, unsure what should come out of it. Kai is typically a topic we avoid poking at. So I let us sit in silence for several tense moments before finally scrounging up enough words to fill the gaping space between us. “I picked roses.” I should clarify. “For the wedding. I hope that’s okay?”

He almost smiles, though I can’t decipher what emotion lies beneath it. “Yes, I would have chosen those myself.”

“Really?”

“My mother seemed to like them,” he says distantly.

I straighten against the stone wall. “You don’t talk about her much.”

“I don’t know enough about her,” he counters. “Only the little that Father deigned to tell me and, now that I am king, what I’ve found out on my own.”

Disgust coats my tongue. “He should have never kept you from knowing her.”

“I am the one that killed her, after all.” The king sounds as though a shrug is stuck in his throat. “Perhaps that was why I was never good enough for him.”

I fight to keep my voice even. “That wasn’t your fault, Kitt. Didn’t she die in childbirth?”

He nods. It’s a distracted movement. “She died. I lived. Father hid her memory from me.” His gaze grows distant after the devastating words, fixed intently on the wall behind me.

“Kitt, you—”

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