What sort of greeting was that?
And then I remembered.
Hostage.
Today, Rían seemed as thrilled about this arrangement as I was.
Fate certainly had a cruel sense of humor.
He’d helped me to avoid marriage only to be forced into marriage himself. Some sort of poetic justice for his lies.
It was a wonder he was forcing me to stay instead of parking me on the edge of the Black Forest and saying, “Good luck.”
Another balmy day greeted us outside.
Part of me wished it were rainy and miserable so I could add it to the growing list of reasons I hated this place.
The prince stalking toward my shed won a spot at the top of said list, followed closely by his lecherous brother.
Rían shifted a blanket and sat with his back against the wall.
Content to go about my day pretending he wasn’t there, I dragged out my rake, spade, and trowel, and the rest of the bulbs from yesterday.
He didn’t so much as look at me when I sank to my knees and started digging.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but my stomach began to grumble. I glanced at the sun, still low in the sky. “Is it almost lunchtime?” I asked the terrible prince.
Rolling his eyes, he set aside the book he’d been reading and shifted a silver pocket watch. “It’s half ten.”
Only half ten? Was he saying we’d only been out here for thirty bloody minutes?
He sent the watch away and collected his book.
A ripe, red apple appeared in my lap.
When I thanked him, he rolled his eyes again. If I weren’t so hungry, I would’ve thrown it at his head.
I took a bite of the apple, the perfect blend of tart and sweet. Yesterday, my time in the garden had flown by. Today it crawled like the snail climbing the wall at Rían’s back.
Would it be so bad to talk to him?
It certainly would help pass the time. It wasn’t like I was punishing anyone but myself by sulking in silence.
I bent my head, trying to catch a peek at the title. “What are you reading?”
“Do not speak to me, human,” he snapped.
I took another bite of my apple. Perhaps I would throw it at him.
He shifted his position and tapped his finger against the gold-embossed title on the front of his book.Tearmann LawVol. 20.
Strange. Not the book—a prince would obviously need to be well versed in his country’s laws. But his reaction.
I took another bite, chewing slowly as I tried to figure out the puzzle that was Rían. He looked especially handsome today, the sleeves of his light blue shirt rolled to his elbows. Dark trousers fastened with black braces. It felt strange seeing him without a waistcoat or cravat.
Casual Rían.
Sunlight played with the reddish tones of his dark hair. He would be much easier to despise if he were atrocious.