A reluctant chuckle escapes. “And what a tragedy that would’ve been.”
“Exactly.” She offers me a watery smile. “And if you weren’t here, you might not have reconnected with your long-lost love.” Her shoulders rise and fall with a heavy sigh. “So, all’s well that ends well. Jeston has already filled your spot with another Tuath, and you have a chance to live the life that was stolen from you.”
A life that will end the day Senan marries the princess.
Her shoulder nudges mine. “Do you think you’ll move to Nimbiss with your prince?”
Considering a future without Senan leaves my heart in ribbons, but I fear watching him marry someone else will leave me even more broken. “I don’t know.” Senan hasn’t asked me to move with him. He has only ever spoken of here and now. “At the moment, we’re pretending the wedding isn’t happening.”
Braith’s dark eyebrows come together. “But it’s going to happen.”
“Unfortunately.”
“So you intend to be his mistress?”
“Of course not.” Although, that is what I’ll be, isn’t it? A prince’s mistress. The other woman.
Sighing, Braith crosses to the armoire and withdraws a cornflower-blue silk gown from a hanger. “After my grandfather passed, my grandmother had an affair with a Scathian lord. He wasn’t a prince, but he was wealthy. When his wife found out…” Her head shakes
My throat feels as if I’ve swallowed a load of stones.
“She was miserable until the day she left him,” Braith goes on, her eyes swimming with sympathy as she extends the garment toward me. “She deserved better than a man who could only give her a piece of his heart. A man who could only love her in private. And so do you. Don’t settle for shadows, Allette. Everyone deserves to be loved in the light.”
When Senan and I were younger, sneaking around had added to the excitement of our forbidden romance.
Would I be content with all the secrets now? Even if I move to Nimbiss, I will always live in the shadow of Senan’s wife. If she finds out about me, there is no telling what she’ll do. He’ll be living with her, presumably sleeping with her as well. And if they have any offspring, I know for a fact that he would never abandon them. His first responsibility will forever be to his wife and their children.
Whereas if Senan and I were ever blessed with little ones, our offspring would be scorned by society, outcasts among their own kind. If Senan suddenly decided he was finished with me, where would I live? How would I support myself?
“There is no happiness to be found in such a relationship.” Braith tugs a corset and pair of undergarments from a drawer. “Keep that in mind when making your decision. I understand why you love him; I see the depth of your feelings for one another. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”
Forty-Four
SENAN
The metallic clashof swords rings through the air, punctuated by grunts and curses. Guards and soldiers fill the balcony, some with their wings out, some with them glamoured. All of them bare-chested. Bell fights off three at once, swinging his broadsword as if it weighs no more than a dagger. Behind him, Bilson and another man spar with fire and wind. Even my bones are weary as I swipe sweat from my eyes.
Kyff kneels down to tie his loose laces, but something behind me catches his eye. “The women are looking.”
I glance around to find a horde of women watching the display. My betrothed stands at the front of the swarm, leaning heavily on the balustrade, her dress the same color as the champagne in the flute dangling between her fingers.
Audience or not, we need to focus. I knock Kyff’s back arm where his elbow has dropped nearly to his waist. “Then you’d better get that elbow up, huh?”
Scowling, he lifts his hands in line with his eyes, separates his feet, and lowers into a fighting stance. I match his position, but instead of fists, my wrapped hands remain flat.
Kyff swings a right hook, thethwackagainst my palm ringing in time with the swords. He is getting better every time wepractice. One day, he’ll give our own guards a run for their money.
“Good strike. Now the left.”
Like most fighters who favor their right hand, his left hook isn’t nearly as powerful. “You’re not twisting your body enough. Watch.” I show him the way his torso should move while extending my arm. “Remember, the power comes from here.” I pat my stomach. “Try again.”
He twists the way I showed him, his small fist colliding with my palm. “Better. Give me ten more.”
By the time he finishes, his right hand has dropped again, leaving him open for a smack on the head. “Arms up, Kyff.”
His face flushes and eyes narrow. He shifts his stance, swinging as hard as he can with his right hand. When I sidestep the blow, he lets out a growl and launches himself at me, his fists flying with no form whatsoever.
I twist, catching a graze on my hip before hauling him into my arms. He may squeal like a piglet, but the lad bites like a feral cat.