Page 193 of The Nightmare Bride
I stared after him. Seven hells, I...what? My mind melted to a wide white roar, a slate that had just been wiped clean. I’d been so sure he was evil. I’d been utterly convinced. But now...
Kyven’s footsteps faded. A full minute passed before I finally shook myself and hurried into the passageway. I might not understand what had just happened, but I did know one thing.
I wouldn’t be letting the prince out of my sight again.
12.
The incident in the root cellar stayed lodged in my thoughts for days, like a splinter I couldn’t dig free.
I took to watching Kyven closely, almost obsessively. I scrutinized him over breakfast when he rushed to take a laden tray from Miss Quist. Then when he helped the stewards split kindling in the yard. And again on the afternoon he plucked a still-yellow dandelion from the marsh’s edge, then gave it to Amryssa for no reason at all.
In private, I reread Eliana’s letter, wondering if I’d missed something. But her warning remained clear: Kyven had a dark side.
I just...couldn’t seem to actually find it. Not even a glimmer.
As the midpoint of my marriage approached, I wondered. Had Eliana been mistaken, somehow? She’d believed what she’d written, clearly, and Kyvenwaskeeping secrets, but nothing added up. I felt like I’d been handed a jigsaw puzzle, only now the pieces refused to produce the image on the box.
All I knew for sure was that Kyven was hiding something. He’d said so himself, but I’d also caught him whispering withVick a dozen more times, their exchanges growing heated. The fox-faced attendant wandered the house at all hours, and whenever our eyes met, he smiled that razorblade smile.
Yes, I’m up to something, it said.And no, I won’t tell you what.
At this point, I didn’t know what to believe.
“I think Vick hates me,” I told Kyven one night, by way of bringing up the subject. I knew if I asked outright, he’d only turn the question around on me, so I’d resolved to come at it from another angle.
“So?” Kyven said. “Just hate him back.”
He lay on the far side of the bed, his eyes closed, his hands propped beneath his head. His bare torso caught the candlelight and threw it in my face.
Sweet Zephyrine, he was always doing that. Just...glistening. The absolute nerve.
“That should come to you naturally enough,” he added.
I frowned and rearranged my nightgown. It was hot tonight, and I would’ve given anything to dispense with my nightwear completely. “Did you just call me hateful?”
“Oh, don’t sound so scandalized. It’s nothing you wouldn’t lay claim to yourself.”
“Oh, really? Says who?”
His mouth curled, though his eyes didn’t open. “Are you saying youaren’thateful?”
“Well...no. Of course not. I hate you, don’t I? You and your attendants, both.”
He chuckled. “Oh, come, now. No one hates Lunk. It’s physically impossible.”
I huffed, but he had a point. Lunk’s tears at my wedding, plus the man’s endless, jagged-toothed smiles—not to mention the raging crush he’d developed on Miss Quist—had the inconvenient effect of deflecting any ill will.
“Fine,” I said. “Lunk’s all right. But Vick? He’s creepy. I mean, why’s he always poking around, acting like he’s looking for something?”
Kyven cracked a lazy eye. “What would he be looking for?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
He managed a shrug, even though he was lying down. “Nothing. Not to my knowledge, anyway.”
I held his gaze, scanning for some hidden meaning, but he only crooked a mischievous smile. Goddess, he was good. Or innocent, maybe. Or...ugh. Who the hell knew, anymore?
“You’re feisty tonight,” he said. “Seeing as how you have all this energy, you know what we ought to do?”
