Page 38 of Façade

“I’ll escort myself, thank you.”

“And give you a chance to escape at the earliest opportunity? We can’t have that, my dear. We must behave as a happy couple madly in love.”

“Such a contrast to the truth that we’re nothing more than a couple lacking trust and toleration for one another’s company. Acting will only get us so far.”

That wasn’t exactly true for me anymore…but unfortunately, it likely remained so for her. Not that I could blame her—if I was her I’d loathe me too. Yet Iwasn’tin hers but in mine, which meant that I had to see my plan through, whether I liked it or not.

I swallowed the lump suddenly clogging my throat. “Exactly.”

Once more I extended my arm, but instead of accepting it as a proper princess might, she only lifted her chin to a sharp, defiant angle, elegantly lifted her skirts, and left the room of her own accord. My rising frustration did nothing to prevent my lips from twitching as I stared after her. Stubborn thing.

Stop finding reasons to like her, I scolded myself.

With considerable effort, I rearranged my expression to the stoic mask I hadn’t had any trouble maintaining until she’d come along and tried to summon the necessary exasperation as I followed, a more appropriate response to her mischief than amusement.

My longer stride allowed me to easily catch up. She didn’t even afford me a glance. “I was hoping you’d decide not to attend.”

“I’d be remiss to overlook an opportunity to spend time with my dearest wife.” I tried to sound teasing, but the emotion proved difficult with the unwanted truth shadowing my words.

“Especially considering we have so few moments remaining. Though you’re taking far longer than I expected, I know any day now you’ll toss me aside.”

I flinched. My intentions sounded so callous when she phrased it in such a way, though as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t deny that was exactly my intention.

It needs to be done, I reminded myself. I doubted Estoria would suddenly approach our kingdom with chestfuls of their magic to break our devastating curse, which meant marrying the true heir to that power was currently the only way to acquire what my kingdom desperately needed.

I forced a smile I didn’t at all feel. “It seems more interesting to keep you wondering. Don’t you like surprises?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not a surprise that you see fit to toy with me before discarding me like my former parents, another testament to the scoundrel you are.”

I winced as this second accusation hit its intended mark, cracking my resolve just enough for the uncertainty I continuously fought against to come flooding through. I hastily tried to suppress the unwanted emotion, a near-impossible effort with the alluring fire glistening in her eyes.

She seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Since you claim you won’t kill me, I’m left wondering what your true plan is.” Her eyes widened as one occurred to her. “Ah, that seems a likely possibility…”

“What does?”

But she only shook her head. “I shan’t tip my hand. I’d hate to give you any ideas just in case I’m mistaken and I married an idiot after all.”

“I’d think you’d consider an unintelligent husband advantageous considering such a man wouldn’t be clever enough to scheme against you.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps. But whether my husband is a scoundrel or instead possesses another undesirable vice, my actions remain the same: it’s better to sacrifice myself on the altar than sacrifice my entire kingdom to your greed.”

These words only widened the gash her earlier assault had inflicted, creating an opening for my doubts to relentlessly attack my resolve with each step closer to the dining room. Desperate for a distraction, I quickly found one in the last place I wanted: my interesting wife. With each ruffle of movement, her bare toes peeked out from beneath her skirts. The unexpected sight invited all sorts of questions, each more pressing than the last, considering with our pending annulment I was rapidly running out of time in which to ask them.

“Have you always gone barefoot?” The nonsensical question escaped before I could firmly lock it away where it belonged.

She blinked up at me in surprise, continuing to stare even after I repeated the question. I began to wonder whether her thoughts had wandered, as they seemed prone to do, but she eventually spoke. “Why do you want to know?” Wariness weighed her tone, as if she believed I possessed a more sinister motive for my inquiry.

“It’s an unusual habit to adopt after being raised in the palace.”

“Are you truly so curious?”

I was tempted to lie, but regret for my earlier deceit compelled me to strive for honesty when my circumstances allowed. “I find that I am.”

“I see no reason you should when, should you have your way, I won’t be your wife for much longer. Do you deny it?” Her look was one of challenge.

Just like that, tension returned to crowd the space between us, even as my guilt—never far—resumed its persistent haunting. Honor dictated I admit it, but in the end cowardice proved stronger. I avoided her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She snorted but made no response, ending our strained conversation.

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