Page 38 of Bride to the Fiend Prince
His tone was quiet, edged with passionate sincerity. “If I had my choice of all the princesses, all the nobles, and all the working women of the world, I would still select you as my bride. I could not imagine being married to anyone else. I wouldn’twantanyone else. Just you—you brutal, beautiful, brilliant woman.”
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His confession took me by surprise. My mouth went dry, and words fled my mind entirely. I couldn’t think how to respond—what to say—and then the seconds ticked by and it was too late, too awkward—
The Fiend Prince dropped his hands from my arms and stepped back, nodding, his lips stiffening. “It’s all right,” he said. “We can be allies who occasionally pleasure each other. No need to reciprocate my feelings.”
He threw a dressing gown around himself and stalked out of the closet. After donning a similar garment, I followed him, twisting my hands together, trying to conjure up some humor to lighten the moment. Every joke I thought of sounded too silly, even hurtful, considering what he’d just expressed—that if he’d been given the choice, he would have chosen me. Over every other woman in the world.
How could anyone handle an affection so strong? No one had ever cared about me like that, ever.
“We’ll need to go to dinner soon,” the Prince said, jabbing viciously at the fireplace logs. “My father doesn’t expect us to dine with him daily, but tonight he will.”
I swallowed hard, the awkwardness fading beneath my rising anxiety. “I haven’t seen him since he had me whipped.”
“Nor have I. He’ll be gauging our reactions carefully. We must act penitent, and subservient, even as we—” The Prince looked at me significantly, and I nodded, understanding what he didn’t voice.Even as we plot against him.
I moved to his side, speaking in a low tone. “Is there anyone you can trust in the Cursed Palace? Anyone who might be loyal to you over your father?”
He chewed his lip, his profile starkly amber and gray in the firelight. “I can think of a handful. My cousin Kallaran hates playing the officious toadie to my father, but he makes himself useful so my father won’t consider him a threat to the throne and have him killed. And there are a few men and women I’ve fought with who might bear me allegiance.”
“What about the servants who tend you here? And your personal guards? If you explained your situation to them, might they help us?”
“It’s a big risk. Any of them could decide to report me to my father.”
“Can you bribe them? Most people can be bought.”
“I have little wealth of my own. It’s all my father’s, and I must request what I want. But I do have some things of value.”
“Knowledge will likely be our greatest weapon,” I mused. “You said that most Terelonians believe the ichor to be the solution to a nationwide plague, yes? What if we told them the truth?”
“Rumors of the truth have circulated before,” the Prince said. “My father has always managed to squash them and make them seem ridiculous.”
“But if the truth came from you, it would have more weight,” I countered. “And what if you had the support of another monarch behind you? My father, for instance? The night he sent me to you, he whispered in my ear, asked me to discover the source of Terelonian magic. If we could get a message to him—”
The Fiend Prince turned, his dark eyes ominously bright. “He wanted you to spy on me? What am I saying—of course he did.”
“Yes, but I—"
“And you have done a marvelous job playing the spy.” The Prince made me an elaborate obeisance. “And I played the consummate fool. The Dreadlord warned me against letting you worm your way into my heart. Women, he said, are deceitful tricksters. Emotion is the enemy. And I ignored his cautions, idiot that I am. You extracted everything from me.” He laughed bitterly. “You paid me well, in there.” He jerked his head toward the closet. “But you used me, didn’t you? Those things you said, about wanting to help me—was any of it true? Or was it all part of a masterful spy’s game?”
“I haven’t lied to you.”
He scoffed and turned away. Desperate for him to understand, I caught his thin wrist and jerked him back to face me. “Everything I said was true,” I hissed fiercely. “I’m your friend, your ally. We’re in this together. We share a common cause, and I refuse to let you waste away under your father’s hand, or in a prison cell. I will find a way to get you clear of this, because your soul is worth saving. You deserve a path to redemption.”
“What about the monster on the battlefield?” The anger faded from his eyes, leaving them sorrowful. “The one with the sword that drinks souls, the one with the whips of fire? The one who has slaughtered countless soldiers from many lands? Isheworth saving?”
“Yes,” I answered stoutly.
“Why?”
“Because your wrongdoing comes from weakness, not willfulness. And weakness can be bolstered and corrected. Weakness can be exercised and helped. You’re not malevolent and apathetic, like the Dreadlord. You can change. The information I wanted from you was for my own benefit, yes—but it’s for yours too! If we apply the right pressure at the right points, we can do this. We can take down your father.”
The caution in the Prince’s eyes made my heart ache. I’d wounded him when I failed to reciprocate his feelings. And he was trying not to care, but for someone like him, someone who’d had so few to love him—I could only imagine how painful the apparent rejection must have been.
But it wasn’t a rejection, not really. It was my own stupid brain, tripping over something I never thought possible—that my forced match with the Fiend Prince could turn into something real, and sweet, and powerful.
I could try to tell him how I really felt—but I still didn’t have the right words, and he wouldn’t believe me if I spoke now. All I could do was wait, and show him, through every action of mine, that I cherished the gift of his heart, and that his trust in me had not been misplaced.
