Luci narrowed his eyes, willing him to be less strange. “Lavender peach pie.”
“It’s incredible,” he said, eagerly taking another bite and making further indelicate sounds. “I’m going to need this recipe. My brother Max would lose his mind.”
“Are you sure you’re not?” she asked before she thought better of it.
His eyes widened, and for a moment, she was sure she was going to be thrown in a dungeon, but then he burst out into laughter.
“Brielle was right, you really do say whatever you are thinking.”
“I’m starting to wonder if you two have talked about anything else.” Luci hummed.
His laughter slowed, and a small smile curved his lips. “You are very important to her.”
A sort of guilt lay over her mind and body. As much as Brielle had a title and living family, in the ways that truly mattered, Luci was her world. Yet she had spent the last half day sulking and feeling resentment towards her. It was hard not to call it what it was when it was whispering from every candle-lit corner, betrayal.
“She’s my everything,” Luci confessed quietly.
Prince Ira’s lips curved up in a thin smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides.
“Which is why you are frustrated with her for agreeing to my proposal,” he said.
Luci's eyes nearly bulged from her face as she turned to him, fork still in hand, and pointed towards him.
“You presume much,” she accused.
His laugh was easy and unbothered, as if position and status were more than enough to shield him from something as base as shame. Gently pushing the fork held between them down, he clicked his tongue.
“Threatening the crown prince with a fork in the middle of the night? Now, who is presumptuous?”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“I certainly try not to, but I am afflicted by the condition more often than I’d like. For example, my engagement to Brielle.”
“You are using her,” Luci said, surprised at the venom in the words.
Her heart raced against the way his eyes searched hers. Would he see the layers to this fury that was building in her? Of course, she was mad that he would use Brielle so easily and then willingly discard her, but there was something else beneath that. A hurt. It was a line that cracked through her entire body. Vain and frivolous. If Luci was being honest, it hurt that he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t see who she was beneath that mask, and into the woman she was. That one looked at Brielle, and he didn’t see the treachery for what it was.
What a foolish thing to be upset about. Oh, how unfortunate for Luci. She committed treason and didn’t get caught. What a terrible plight. Still, her heart and her pride would not see it for what it was. A blessing.
“I think she would disagree with that statement; however, I see why you would think that. The truth is that we have the chance to set things right that will change things for everyone.”
“How do you know magic coming back will benefit anyone?” she asked.
The slightest tilt to his head made her remember that she was not meant to know that. Before she could come up with a reasonable excuse, he ran a hand over his jaw and chin.
“I see Brielle has already filled you in, as she said she would. I confess I had not expected her to be so quick about it.”
Luci lifted her chin, a sense of pride filling her. “We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Which is what precisely she said, but with less aggression.”
“I’m not being aggressive.”
He lifted a single eyebrow. “The way you are gripping that fork says otherwise.”
Luci glanced down to find her hand white-knuckled, holding the offending utensil. The urge to poke him with it was only momentarily, but part of her conceded that it wasn’t the worst idea she had ever had. After all, he deserved it.
Gesturing to her mug of tea and half-deserted pie, he said, “Maybe you could bury your weapon elsewhere and give me a chance to explain.”