“You are angry with her,” he asked.
Having had just about enough, Luci snatched up the book and slammed it shut, pointing it at him.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” she snapped.
Here she was chastising him, and the infernal prince had the actual audacity to laugh. He held up his hands and tried to choke down his laugh at the expression he saw on her face, but still he bit back an annoying smile.
“As it happens, it’s the middle of the night, and I have absolutely nowhere to be,” he said.
“Lucky me,” she said, setting the book back down.
“I hope you know that I mean Brielle no harm. In fact, it’s quite the opposite,” he said.
“You mean you want to use her?” Luci challenged.
The sincerity still clung to him like a second skin, but he closed his lips tight and nodded his head once, understanding.
“Ah,” he said. “She told you our bargain.”
More or less. More or less, though. Luci was not about to admit to eavesdropping either way.
“She isn’t a tool to be used in a hopeless quest to bring about magic. Maybe it’s better that it’s gone. Maybe it wasn’t meant to exist,” she said.
The words tasted sour in her mouth. The truth was, she didn’t know what to make of the idea of magic. It would probably be like everything else, a tool the wealthy and influential used to create more distance between them and the poor. It was unlikely that the people of Picadilly Street would ever see the benefit they reaped.
At the same time, she kept hearing the voice of the woman in the room of mirrors. The desperation was laced with a tinge of hope as she showed Luci unimaginable things. Things that could change everything if only there were someone with the courage to pursue it. Someone like Brielle.
“I would not ask her to do this if she wasn’t willing,” he said.
His words were gentle, but his eyes skated over her, searching. Something flickering in his mind.
“You don’t understand her. She is good and kind to a fault. She will burn herself out in pursuit of an impossibility in the hopes it will help someone else.”
“It sounds like she is lucky to have a loyal friend to advocate for her,” he said.
Luci tilted her head, unsure if she was being patronized or if he was being sincere. Yet the little she knew of him told her that it was likely sincerity.
“I am the lucky one. Brielle is the only thing in the world that matters,” she said.
Silence stretched out between them as her words sank into the air permeating around them. A line in the sand. Battle lines drawn and stances firmly taken. Luci wouldn’t be sorry for it.
“I think you both are very lucky. Love like that is rare,” he said, his smile small and genuine. “For tonight, given it is late, maybe you can forgo kicking me out and let me try some of this pie. The smell is very distracting.”
Luci muttered a curse under her breath as she pushed the tray towards him.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her fork.
Luci wrinkled her nose. “I can just get you a new one.”
As she rose from her chair, he laid a gentle hand on her arm and reached for her fork. Luci stared at him as he carefully cut a piece of pie and slid it onto her plate, sliding it between them.
“We may not have a castle, but we do have plenty of silverware and dishes at Blythe,” she said.
“Of course, but why create more work for the servants? Plus, less evidence that anything was stolen,” he said with a wink as he took a bite.
His eyes closed, and he made a soft moaning sound that was positively indecent as he tasted the pie. Luci sat down, shaking her head. It had been the strangest past two days. Maybe it wasall a very elaborate dream. At least that made more sense than this.
Prince Ira’s dilated eyes popped open. “What is this magnificent creation?”