Page 30 of Bride to the Fiend Prince
“And you still won’t tell me what that mysterious substance is.”
He eyed me sidelong. “Soon.”
“Is it what your father’s hunting for? The reason he keeps conquering more nations, expanding his territories? He’s looking for more of it?”
The Prince’s eyes lit up with that keen look of approval again. “You’re quick, Princess.”
“But Brintzia doesn’t have any magic, or magical substances,” I protest, ignoring the compliment. “We get one or two sorcerers a generation, maybe, but nothing like you’re talking about. Nothing that gives powers to normal humans.”
“You think you don’t have it,” said the Prince. “But you don’t realize the treasure you possess.”
Frustration galvanized my limbs and drove me into action almost before I thought. In half a second I had the Prince’s thin body pinned against the wall, my hands laced around his throat. “Do you like keeping me in suspense?” I hissed. “Is it fun for you, watching me scramble after the slightest clue and struggle for scraps of hope?”
“Maybe a little fun,” he wheezed through my grip.
Enraged, I tightened my fingers, and he choked. “Fine, it’s not!” he gasped. “It’s not fun at all! I realize what’s at stake for you. And I’m trying to trust you, I really am. But think of my position, Princess. If I trust you completely, I could lose everything. You will pass the information to your father somehow, and he will act on it. When Terelaus falls, what do you think will happen to me? Do you think the nations my father has subdued, the people he has conquered, will be forgiving? Do you think they’ll let me go on living in peace?”
He gagged, and I loosened my grip a little. “I don’t suppose they will.”
“No. I’ll be killed for war crimes, or imprisoned for the rest of my life. So in revealing my people’s secrets to you, I am ensuring my own doom.”
“Your doom is ensured anyway. At least this way you have the chance to do what’s morally right.”
“Such a comfort.”
“You could run,” I told him. “Go south, as you told me to do, and live in some faraway land.”
“You’d let me side-step the consequences of a lifetime of bloodletting?”
“I—I suppose. I did ask you to run away with me,” I growled.
“You did, didn’t you?” He smiled wonderingly at me. “I think I undervalued the significance of that moment.”
“It was a moment of madness, clearly. I have no idea what possessed me to say that, because Ihateyou. I hate you, and your father, and this horrible place.”
He stared at me, his dark eyes liquid, his pulse fluttering under my palm. And I hated him more because he felt so helpless in my hands, because he didn’t fight back, because his long frail form simply relaxed against the wall, yielded to my will.
“I deserve all your hate,” he said quietly. “Hate me with all the strength and passion of that beautiful fierce heart of yours. Crush me and break me if you must, in retribution for everything I have done, all the bodies I’ve broken, the blood I’ve spilled. Break my neck, Amarylla. End it, if that will bring you peace. You’ve wanted to kill me since that first night—so do it. Just a twitch of your fingers. Go on.”
He tipped his head back, and like a fool I noticed the crisp angles of his jawline, the tender skin under his chin. I noticed the thick sweep of his dark lashes, and the soft prettiness of his mouth.
“I want to kill you,” I whispered. “But I can’t.”
“Because I’m your way out of this.”
“Maybe.”
“Or because you like me.”
“I just said I hated you.”
“My mistake.” His mouth curved in a smile, soft with sadness despite his teasing words. “If you’ll let me live a bit longer, I can show you the thing that took my magic. And perhaps then some of your questions will be answered.”
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My anger ebbed, and I dropped my hands from the Fiend Prince’s throat. He stepped away from the wall, massaging his neck.
“Thank you for sparing me,” he said quietly.
