Page 134 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

She helps me ready for bed, frowning when she takes down my hair. “Were you messing with your hair? It’s frizzy.”

“Yes,” I reply, not wanting to admit the truth.

She makes me sit down and show her the healing wound on my leg. She applies the special salve from Rahk. I watch her work, marveling at how quickly the wound is scarring over. The pain is very manageable now—enough that I can ignore it most of the day.

When I’m ready for bed, she watches me slip inside my own room and frowns. “You shouldn’t sleep there,” she says gently, almost apologetically.

I cast her a look of desperate pleading.

She doesn’t relent, even though she seems sorry for it. “You’re the lady of this house and the master’s wife. You have to act like it.”

With a heaving sigh, I plop down on the bed. Rahk’s bed.

Mary lowers her voice. “Edvear caught the master sleeping at his desk early this morning and he’s already shut himself in there again. I think you’re safe for tonight.”

She blows out the candles before she leaves. I slide under the quilt. Rahk’s scent rises from the cool bedclothes to wrap around me—a scent of clear creeks, wind and sky, and that tickle of magic like autumn spices.

I feel small in this dark room by myself, alone with the magnitude of a future I cannot untangle. Up until now, I haven’t been willing to admit it to myself, but now I see that I cannot keep running raids into Faerieland. When I had the privacy of my own room, it was possible. But now? Rahk can come into this room whenever he pleases. Because it’s his room and his saints-cursed bed.

The thought of not continuing my work brings such an overwhelming panic it nearly cuts off my ability to breathe. My heart demands with every beat that I must continue, even if it costs me my life.

Despite having known for some time that Rahk will one day kill me, it occurs to me for the first time that he may not want to do such a thing. That killing me might cost him dearly.

A storm of such conflict brews in my breast. Half of me demands that this isn’t my fault—it’s Agatha’s, for forcing my hand and making me resort to the drastic measures that led me to Rahk’s doorstep. The other half, however, berates myself mercilessly for what this will inevitably do to him.

There is no more hiding from the truth: Rahk, despite being a fae from the Nothril Court, is the best man I know. He is good and kind, strong and protective, earnest and straightforward, gentle and considerate. And he will suffer because of me.

“What have I done?” I whisper to myself in the darkness.

Chapter 41

Rahk

Theroaringwaterfallsofthe Revar Court coat my wings with a fine mist. I go straight to the palace, flying past the rickety bridges and navigating the maze of tree dwellings.

This palace is not situated in the biggest tree, but the oldest. Its winding trunk is wider than my entire Ashbourne estate, with stairs and rope ladders that drape between elegant, moss-covered platforms. Everything smells of earth, vanilla sap, and wood.

I go to the nighttime cleric. He is a short man of sticklike arms and legs, a greenish tint to his skin, and ears twice as long as mine.

His eyes go wide when he sees me. “Prince Rahk! To what do we owe this . . . ahem . . . pleasure?”

I lean one elbow on the wooden counter he stands behind. “I need a list of everyone who visited this Court in the last sixteen days.”

“Sixteen days?” the cleric squeaks. “You do not have clearance for this. And such a task is impossible! I’d need to get access to the ward spells—”

I lean a little closer, dropping my voice. “You will do it. At once. And you will have it ready for me by tomorrow night.”

“But Prince Rahk, I cannot—”

“We would not want to see the alliance between our Courts come undone, would we?”

The cleric balks. “The Nothril Court wouldn’t.”

“We would. So please get me this information.”

He gulps. “Yes, yes, Prince Rahk. Of course.”

One Court down, several more to go before dawn. One step closer to finding the Ivy Mask’s accomplice—and thus one step closer to finding the Ivy Mask himself.

---