I’d given in because I’d had nothing—been nothing.
Breathing through my frustration, I withdrew the decorative sword at my hip. “My brother was not good. Nor was he kind.” I waited for her to ask me why. To beg for clarity. To seek the truth and dismiss the lies.
Instead, she stared at me through glowing silver eyes, silent as the night around us.
I ripped the glove from my left hand and drew the blade across my palm. The slicing pain did nothing but stir my ire as I threw the bedcovers aside and clenched my fist, letting blood dribble over the white sheets. “The man you claim to love was a fallacy. He lied to you about what happened with Lady Whitney, and I can say with complete confidence that if he’d had the honor of becoming your husband, if he was the one standing here tonight, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
I shoved my sword back into its scabbard and turned toward the door, not knowing where I would go, only that I had to get away from her. We may have been expected to spend tonight together, but I refused to put her in a position where she felt unsafe. Even if that meant we never shared a bed. Eventually, she had to realize I wasn’t the villain in this story.
My hand stilled on the doorknob.
Except . . . I was the villain.
I was the reason my brother was dead.
I opened the door and slipped into the hallway, sounds from the ballroom echoing from the far end, toward the staircase.
Broderick startled when he saw me.
“Stay here,” I told him. “Make sure no one bothers the princess.”
He nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Where will you go?”
“Does it matter?” I scrubbed a hand down my face, weariness making my bones feel like lead. I retreated toward the solace of the library.
A familiar voice drawled my name. Lord Kerrington sauntered toward me from the staircase, Lowri on his arm.
“Finished already?” Kerrington clicked his tongue.
I wouldn’t hit him because that would be wrong.A king didn’t punch his subjects for being rude.A king ignored them or had someone punch them for him.
“Poor Roisin,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t even get a good ride on her wedding night. If you need me to step in, I could—”
My fist slammed into his nose, and it felt like I’d punched a damned brick wall. Blood poured down his lips, his chin, all over his blue waistcoat.
“You broke my damned nose!” he howled, letting go of Lowri’s arm to cradle his swelling face.
“Alrec isn’t here to hide behind anymore,” I reminded him, biting back the urge to groan at my aching hand. I’d definitely broken something.Dammit. How had Alrec throttled me so many times and not shed one tear? “And if you ever speak of my wife like that again, I will have your head on a pike. Do I make myself clear?”
Kerrington’s eyes blazed before he bowed his head, blood leaking from his face onto the floor. “Perfectly,your highness.” With that, he turned on his heel and stomped toward the exit.
Lowri swayed. I caught her before she fell face-first into the wall. She smelled as if she’d bathed in drink. “Where are your friends, Lady Lowri?”
“I only have . . . two friends. One, you just . . . punched, and the other . . . youmarriedher. How . . . howcouldyou?” Two hiccups later, she was sobbing into my arms. What was it with this woman and crying?
“Come. I’ll bring you back to the ball.” Once I handed her off to a responsible party, I’d find a place to sleep.
“W-why are you being nice to me?”
“Because I am too exhausted to be anything else.”
She swiped at her wet cheeks, frowning toward the ballroom. “I don’t want to go back in. People look at me as if I don’t belong here.”
“They do not.”
“Yes, they do,” she insisted, sniffling as more tears welled in her turquoise eyes. “They see my ears and my hair and my eyes andwhisper. I hate it. I wish I could be like one of you.”
I understood wanting to be someone else. Not that I’d wanted to be like Alrec. I’d just wanted to be the person people looked to instead of looked past.