Page 32 of The Midnight Princess
I don’t think of the pain as a choice. It’s a natural consequence of the life I lead—as inevitable as the ghastly Werewolf’s Girlfriend frock, chosen simply because the designer is Sondish. I blink against the weight of Jacob’s undivided attention and imagine how easy it would be to stretch up so slightly, touching my lips to his. I swallow, tipping my head forward.
“Are you going to finish?”
Monday will come. Once this is all over and he returns to his room, we can forget everything and return to the way things were. I’m sure of it. I’ve read fairy tales. When princesses fall asleep, magical, impossible things happen.
He holds a lock of hair in front of my face. “I like this color.”
I tuck the strand back. “It’s just brown.”
“So is mine.” He’s silent for a second and then grips my shoulder. “We’re not cousins, are we?”
I choke on a laugh. “What hasPaneNowak been teaching you about the history of Vorburg?”
“He started with Ulek the Bear carrying a house on his back, hibernating in the Lyste Hills, and having villages spring up between his paws. We’ve made it to the reign of Piasa III.” He sets his jaw. “Give it to me quick. Are we family?”
I indulge a seed of mischief. “Almost everyone belonging to a European royal line is family.” His face falls, and I want to snap a picture for Pietor.This man ogled me. He touched my hair. He doesn’t want to be my cousin.
Thank heaven, he’s not my cousin.
“Our families only intermarried once, but that was almost 500 years ago. The union produced no children.”
He releases a relieved breath and drags a stool over, setting it before me, knees bracketing mine as he continues his work on the tiny anchoring braids near my brow, essential for keeping the tiara in place.
“We share a common border,” he says, the pink tip of his tongue appearing as he concentrates. “Surely, we gave you a princess or two, out of pity.”
“We gaveyoua princess out of pity.”
When he works the plait free, I tip forward, steadying myself with a hand to his chest. I lift it away, my fingers curling softly.
“Was it a happy marriage?” he asks, interrupting a tiny mental crisis.
He poses strange questions. “It was a medieval marriage, entered into for the benefit of nearly everyone except the two parties most concerned. It sparked off the War of the Amber Cross.”
“But were they happy?” he persists.
It didn’t matter if they were. “Sondmark took its princess back. Scholars have nothing to say about the relative happiness or unhappiness of the couple.”
He resumes his work. “What does Alma say?”
I have a soft spot for that princess, though I’ve never said so out loud to anyone. “Sondmark had to keep her locked in a tower for the rest of her life, and Vorburg never stopped trying to get her back. Scholars might be blind to the implications, but I’m not.” I lift my shoulders. What that princess felt shouldn’t matter. What I think about it shouldn’t matter, either. “And that’s why these trade negotiations are such a big deal. They will give our countries a chance to settle the old grudge.”
“That was 500 years ago. How can we possibly still—”
He doesn’t get us, but he has to. “Do you like football?” I ask.
“Soccer football or American football?” Jacob pulls down the last of my hair. My head is tender and sore, but I gasp when he plunges his fingers in the mass and massages my scalp.
Gritting my teeth, I force my voice to remain even. “Heretic. There’s only one kind of football when you’re in line to rule a European kingdom, and you are required to love it.”
He grunts a laugh. “I was a baseball kid.”
I make a noise of disgust, choked off when his hands slip, fingers above my ears, palms hovering against my cheeks. I’ve never been touched like this. Not once.
“The grudge is alive and well. When the Dragons play the Djolny Vipers, the fans sing this song called ‘No Second Princess,’” I tell him.
“Ouch.” He repositions my head, reaching over the crown. “It’s just as well you’re engaged, then. There’s no danger of accidentally falling in love with you.”
I smile as I stare at our knees. It wobbles. I don’t have to pretend when no one is looking.
