Page 75 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“A pirate. He wanted my eye, and Dewalt had to stop him.” I watched his mouth as he spoke and then his eyes as they slowly opened.

“Really?” This man had seen more and done more than I could have imagined.

“No.” He huffed a laugh. “The truth is much more embarrassing.”

I grinned. “The Bloody Prince has an embarrassing scar? I have to hear this.”

“Don’t call me that.” His voice was a growl, and the look in his eyes haunted. I flinched back, the smile on my face gone in a second.

“I—I’m sor—” He cut me off with a deep inhale of breath as he braced one hand between my shoulder blades, pulling me against him once more.

“Don’t apologize; you didn’t know. I’m not exactly proud of the blood on my hands, Em.” He exhaled slowly and forced a smile. “Let’s forget about it. A truth for a truth?”

I cringed, wishing I could put my foot in my mouth. Of course, he wouldn’t want to be reminded of the atrocities this war had made him commit. I latched on to his change of subject and threw myself in. “I promise my truths are boring but fine. How did you get the scar?”

“Gardening.” I blinked at him and felt my lips part in surprise. His eyes darted to them for a second before his eyes met mine, and he chuckled. “I have a garden at my home in the capital. When I first moved in, it was a mess, and I helped the gardener from time to time. I had set a pair of shears up on a ledge and went to grab them, and I bumped them instead. Sent them flying right at my eye. I asked Dewalt to hit me, so it would look like I’d been in a fight. He refused, and I was too embarrassed to call a healer.”

“That isnotwhat I expected.” I laughed, and he smiled, his expression soft as he watched me. I imagined Rainier surrounded by roses, clutching his hand to his eyebrow and a shocked gardener watching him bleed. It was a hilarious mental image, and it renewed my laughter, causing me to throw my head back and truly let go. He held me there for a moment as his gaze washed over me, an easy smile on his face. He ran a hand down my thigh and pulled it up, wrapping it around his waist before repeating the action on the other side. He brought his hands to rest on my lower back, still holding me close. My breathing tight, I focused on my hands resting on his shoulders. Drenched and standing in a lake as we may have been, I felt like I was playing with fire. I was a fuse, and he was a lit match.

“My turn.” He studied me for a moment, to a point where I started to feel embarrassed, a flush creeping up my skin, and I looked away. I watched as our friends went into their tents to get dressed before I heard him take a deep breath. “Do you trust me?” I turned my head back to him. There was something vulnerable in his tone and his eyes as he stared into mine that gave me pause.

“In what way?” I could tell by the disappointment on his face he wanted an easy answer. But sadly, I had no way to answer the question simply. There was so much between us I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fully be able to trust him.

“In any way.”

I took a moment, debating how to put my feelings into words.

“I trust you with my life, my child’s life.” I swallowed. “But I do not trust you with my heart.” I wasn’t sure if that even mattered to him. Did he even care that he’d broken my heart back then and was in the process of breaking it again? I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment despite the cool temperature of the water. He gave the slightest nod as he turned his head, gazing at the cliffs behind me while he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He was betrothed to a princess; why would I think he’d even care about what I just said? When his eyes met mine, I saw a look of determination and a hint of fear which surprised me, almost as much as what he said next.

“Do you think that could change, given time?” It was so unlike him to talk to me like this. As if he were afraid of me, afraid to say what he felt. I didn’t like it. I also wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to trust him with my heart, but it gave me hope he seemed to want me to.

“I think it’s my turn to ask a truth.” I smiled at him, waiting for him to return it. Wanting him to smile. And he did.

“Go on then, Em.”

“How often did you think of me?” I didn’t know what answer I wanted from the question, but he didn’t hesitate.

“Every day—when I wanted to, when I didn’t want to. Even if I made it through a whole gods damn day not thinking about you, you visited me in my dreams.”

“Me too.” My answer came out full of emotion. I’d done everything to not think about him, not talk about him, and yet every day, he crossed my mind. Sometimes it was frustration and anger, sometimes longing. My emotions about him ran the gamut, but they were there every day.

“Will you ever give me a chance to earn your trust again?” He quieted, watching me expectantly.

“Rain, I—” I hesitated, eyes meeting his as I mulled over his question. “We’ve had enough secrets for a lifetime. You not telling me about Keeva? It was embarrassing to find out, and quite frankly, made me feel stupid and small. I still feel like there’s more you haven’t told me yet. And I shouldn’t even be worrying about any of it at all right now.”

“I’m sorry, Em. I was trying to find a way to tell you about her. I will tell you everything—every thought, every plan, all of it. What you don’t know is minimal, at worst. It may take me some time, but I will tell you everything.” I glared at him. “You will knoweverything. Every desire, every secret, every thought I’ve ever had will be yours to keep.”

He leaned forward, pushing his forehead to mine, as he held me tight to him, and for once, I kept my mouth shut. The sincerity in his voice and body language was begging me to trust him. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to be around him without giving in to his pleading, allowing him to take tiny parts of me, tiny concessions, so I may as well lean into it. I started to think about all the different conversations we should have had if only I would have trusted him, kept him close to me and opened up to him. If I’d have stayed at Ravemont and leaned on the protection of the Crown, where would we be today? Imagining it almost felt like an insult to Lucia’s memory, to think about my life not changing at all when she was dead.

“How do you not feel guilty about that night? I—It follows me. I can’t escape it.” I wished I could rid myself of the guilt I’d experienced every single day since Lucia died. We’d been responsible for the wards, and she died for it. He was the only other person who could understand the depth of it, the responsibility. Part of why I’d been so angry with him was because he’d been so unaffected by our hand in it. To me, it was all-consuming and inescapable. There was something about grief and love and regret that tangled. That made moving on despite fear almost impossible without unraveling. His eyes met mine, and I saw grief and pity as he watched me, sending a rush of anger through me. I banked it, knowing his emotions were from a place of love for my sister and concern for me.

“Em.” He sounded sad as he tilted his head and reached up, gently tracing my jaw with his fingertip. “If it were you who died, would you want Lucia blaming herself for the rest of her life? Would you want that for any of us?” I looked down, staring at the line of water where it met his chest, watching its rise and fall with each breath. “It was a mistake, Em. Something all of us could have been responsible for, somethingshehad done to sneak off with Dewalt the night before.” I gaped at him, surprise blanketing my face and a small smile on my lips. He chuckled and grinned. “Honestly, you must have been so wrapped up in me you weren’t paying any attention to her that summer; I’m flattered I was so distracting. They snuck out of the cottage almost every night, and I’m shocked you never realized.”

“Not possible.” I shook my head. I would have noticed what my sister was up to, wouldn’t I?

“That’s why I talked to her about us. I knew she wasn’t invested in me, and telling her I was in love with her sister wouldn’t be an issue.”

In lovewith me. My eyes flicked back up to his at the statement. He didn’t pause to let me react, just continuing to speak, and I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or his own.

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