Page 62 of Tall, Royal Hater
“Can you do me another favour then?”
“Name it.”
“If Shehryar approaches you, I asked you to do nothing. You don’t tell him shit about this. But if he asks you to do something similar, you ignore what he says and do what I said instead.”
My frown lifted, slow and realising.
Ah. So, that’s what she’s playing at.
Venomous annoyance licked through me, but dark amusement tugged at my lips.
Mariyah fucking Levine, you little—
“Why?” Prince Fay said. “Aren’t you supposed to be planning it together?”
“Yeah, but he pissed me off, and now I want him to suffer and come crawling back to me when he realises he can’t do it alone, so help a girl out here, Fay.”
“Okay, I guess,” he said through a chuckle. “But I’ll be honest, Mariyah. If he comes to me knowing the truth, I’m going to point my finger straight at you. I’d rather not risk it with a man whose fist is the size of my face.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I can deal with the dickhead.” Shoes shifted against the wooden floor.
Wow…
The temptation to laugh as I gritted my teeth was beguiling.
The fucking menace had schemed well, I’d give her that. Making me feel guilty for what I’d said and demanding an apology, while she went behind my back and planned the wedding herself, telling everyone not to help me in case I tried to do it without her, so that I had no choice but to go back to her and grovel at her feet. Whether I’d apologised or not, she would have come out as the victor who put together the perfect wedding with or without me.
Oh, she was clever. Fucking devious to a fault. And amongst the swirl of furious emotions she’d unleashed, there was definitely some form of admiration there. She played me well.
Funnily enough, I wasn’t angry now that I knew what her game was. That wasn’t the right word for the clump of coiling feelings in my chest.
I was pissed, but she’d riled a dark recklessness that wanted to play her game to the point of her destruction. A beast, both hungry and bored, that was in the mood to torment before feasting.
It was dark. Cruel. Dirty. Vicious. It wanted payback. But it wanted her surrender too.
I was going to make her surrender.
Two options presented themselves to me.
I either played the game her way and let her do all the work while messing with her, then took the credit myself at the end. But that wouldn’t work. One, I didn’t want to ruin my mother’s wedding, and two, Mariyah wasn’t the quiet kind who’d simply accept defeat. She’d let everyone know that I’d fucked with her plans, and because they all loved her, they would side with her anyway.
So, the only other viable option was to confront her right there and then, and going off the violent thrum in my blood that was theonlything I wanted to do. I needed to fight it out with her.
“Isn’t he going to realise, though, eventually, that you’re—”
The man’s voice fled as the two of them rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop a step and a half away from me. Mariyah’s eyes widened for a quick second before she schooled her reddening face into a disgusted scrunch. Prince Fay, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the shock marring his hazel eyes and the elegant features he’d inherited from his mother.
He was less than a year younger than me, and had we spent more time together, I could probably have considered him a friend. He worked hard both with his art and his duty to his people and was great to have interesting conversations with. But of course, Mariyah had forced him to stoop to her level.
“Shehryar…” The second prince cleared his throat. “This is…unexpected.”
“Your Highness,” I said, addressing him without taking my eyes off the bloody menace. “Please leave, now. I need to talk to Mariyah. Alone.”
“Uh…yeah. Yes, I think I will.” He pulled away, and she frowned after him. “See you both.”
“Coward,” she grumbled as he walked past me.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Like I said, fists the size of my face. Sorry, Mariyah.”
