He wasn’t looking at her, though; his attention was all for Noah, and Luci was sure she didn’t think the prince capable of the coldness that clung to his green eyes like a forest devoid of light.
“You don’t usually work this late, Noah,” he said.
Still dressed in his finery of gold-trimmed navy blue, he was probably just getting through with dinner. A dinner where he made Brielle laugh and feel at home. The cure.
“We lost track of time,” Noah said.
“I’m sure,” Prince Ira snapped.
That was a new tone. A new side of the prince. Did Max tell him about the map? Was he mad at her for not saying something sooner? She would need to feign innocence. Say it just occurred to her. Except she didn’t even know how Max presented the idea. Did he say it was Brielle’s recollections or that Luci solved the problem? Goodness, there were too many falsities and half-truths to wade through these dark waters.
Noah was forced to step to the side as Prince Ira drew closer, his eyes searching hers through flickering light.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
There was a hardness edged into the word that made Luci wonder if he could use the sword he sometimes wore with ease. This close, it was easy to see the tension pulling at his clenched jawline. The tightness in his shoulders. He radiates tension.
Luci’s heart erupted like a herd of wild horses.
“What’s wrong with Brielle?” she asked.
Prince Ira’s eyes flashed. “I told you she’s fine, but I’m more interested in why you look like you’ve been crying.”
Strange. Luci raised her fingers to her eyes and stared at the glistening residue that came away. She didn’t remember crying.
“I- it’s just eye strain. I’m fine,” she lied.
His lips thinned, and it was clear he knew she was a liar. All he had to do was call her out on it, and she might just erupt into a puddle of tears that she wouldn't ever come back from. Too much emotion, too much feeling.
She nearly breathed out a sigh of relief when he dropped her gaze to peer at the potion brewing before her.
“What are you making?” he asked.
Oh. Actually, the previous question might have been preferable to all the times to walk into the infirmary and question her about her work. The prince really had the worst timing.
“I felt guilty about Calcifer,” she shrugged.
The corner of his lip pulled up as he fought to suppress it, and Luci wondered if there was a potion that could make her invisible.
“Lucinda Blackthorn, are you making a potion for me?” he asked, his forest eyes springing to life with mischief.
Luci groaned and lowered the gas lamp beneath the steaming brew. It slowly let its smoke dissipate into the room, and Luci wished she could go with it.
“You should have told us you were allergic to him. It was careless behavior rooted in chivalry,” she snapped.
He leaned his arm against the table and raised an eyebrow.
“You think I’m chivalrous?” he teased.
Impossible, aggravating man.
Luci spun towards him and leveled her most severe of glares at his annoyingly charming face.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” she asked.
He tilted his head and thrummed a finger against his lips like he was capable of thought. The urge to snatch that finger down burned inside her.
“Not that I can recall,” he said.