It was easy to forget that I wasn’t the only one being forced into this. That Robert’s hands were as tied as mine. Not that it mattered since I had found a way out.
Sighing, he raked a hand through his blond hair. “If we are to be stuck together, can we at least try and make the best out of it? Please?”
I didn’t bother telling him I’d rather eat raw fish guts. Still, Rían had said I was to continue as if nothing was amiss. And if our plans fell through, I would end up marrying this man. Making an enemy of him now would be foolish.
So I smiled and said, “All right.”
The words had barely slipped free when he eased forward and pressed his mouth to mine.
I’d felt more passion in the single touch of Rían’s little finger than in the entirety of this kiss. Engaged couples were permitted some displays of public affection, so I endured the way he lingered, telling myself this was another way of playing along. The entire time, I wished his lips belonged to someone else.
18
Tomorrow I am goingto die.
And tonight . . .
Apparently, tonight I was to be plagued by a wicked fae prince.
Rían lounged on my chaise, hands tucked behind his head, feet crossed at the ankles—the picture of nonchalance. “I refuse to let you spend your last night alive moping about, boring me to tears. What do you want to do? And make it good.”
Whoever authored those fairy tales had gotten their facts dreadfully wrong. Handsome princes were unruly and as irritating as a splinter in your foot. The princesses had probably begged the witches for a curse to escape the spoiled man’s incessant whining.
What do you want to do?
Rían had asked me that question three times now. And each time, I’d given him the same answer. “I want to tell Keelynn the truth.”
“And since you can’t do that, you’d rather . . .” Rolling his eyes heavenward, he gestured toward me. “Go on, now. Don’t be shy. Surely there is something you want to do before my brother kills you.”
Did he have to be so crass? Tadhg may have been killing me, but I was dying of my own free will. “I just want to get this over with.” Rían had been right the other day. The sooner I died, the sooner I would return. And the sooner the ache in my chest would subside. I wasn’t betraying my sister,dammit. I was giving her everything she’d ever wanted. And yet, not being allowed to share the joyous news, letting her believe I would take this ultimatum lying down, was destroying me.
Rían jolted upright, his boots slamming onto the floor, rattling the pots of cream on my dressing table. If he didn’t keep it down, he was going to wake the whole house.
“Do you like tarts?”he asked.
How had he gone from discussing death to dessert? “What are you on about?”
He popped up, cupping one hand in front of him. “You know, fruity little pastries sprinkled with sugar.” He pretended to sprinkle something over his hand. “Do you like them?”he asked, holding the invisible dessert toward me.
“If this is an attempt to distract me from my misery, can you not? I want to wallow.” I meandered past him to fall onto the bed. Had my mattress always been this comfortable?
“Just answer the feckin’ question, miserable Aveen.”
“I don’t know. I suppose they’re all right.”
He began to pace at the foot of the bed, brushing against my skirts each time he passed. “Our kitchen witch Eava makes the best cherry tarts, and I happen to know she baked a fresh batch this morning.” He flopped onto the bed, bouncing me in the air. His eyes glittered as he leaned close. “What do you say I steal the lot, and we feast on tarts until sunrise?”
“Someone like you would surely prefer widow fingers or orphan ears.”
Rían deadpanned. “I save those delicacies for special occasions. I could always ask Eava to whip some up if you like?”
I couldn’t hold my laughter in any longer. “I’ll eat the bloody tarts, you loon.”
Rían’s dimples deepened when he grinned. “Brilliant.” He rolled off the bed.
“You’re leaving?”I raised to my elbows. I had assumed he’d flick his wrist and they’d appear out of thin air.
“There’s no need to worry your pretty little head.” He patted my hair like I was a dog. “I’ll be back.”