Page 14

Fuck me in the eye sockets.

“I am…”

The heat of Reginald’s stare burning a hole into the side of my face bolsters my strength.

“… not a bank, Miss Lark.”

Violette’s hands flex at her sides, belying an anxiety I hadn’t noticed in the face of her beauty and perfectly put-together appearance.

“Yes, Your Grace. I do realize, but I—I’m not terribly fond of my current profession.”

“Which is what?”

“Currently, I’m a mistress at one of the local brothels.”

Guilt that can’t possibly be my own fists my heart.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck,fuck.

Everything within me screams that I rescue her.Gods be damned, if only I hadn’t given my ring to the farmer.

Reginald knows me too well. His stare continues to bore a hole through me.

With a trembling hand, I massage my brow in a futile attempt to ease the tension in my body.

“And what is it exactly that you’d rather do?”

“I wish to become a matchmaker. It would bring me tremendous joy and fulfillment to unitesoulbound.Truly, there is no greater honor. ”

I, too, would love for her to pursue her dreams and become a matchmaker. If only there weren’t a fucking syphon on the royal coffers as we rebuild after the war, and the palace wasn’t down to rations. The weight of this responsibility, which I never wanted, is slowly crushing me.

Reginald’s gaze remains fixed on me, and I am ready to weep. My words come out warbled from the emotion crawling up my throat.

“A matchmaker, you say?”

Violette nods, hope bright in her emerald eyes. “Yes, Your Grace.”

I draw in a deep breath to soothe my nerves, and I manage a forced smile. “What a beautiful idea.”

Akash almighty, save me.

Violette watches me expectantly, and still, I can’t form the wordnoon my tongue.

“You know, I must say… that’s a lovely dress you’re wearing.”

Even from the corner of my eye, I can see Reginald’s face scrunching up like I’ve lost my mind, while Violette gives me a pretty grin, smoothing her hands over her slender waist and the voluptuous curve of her hips.

“Why, thank you, Your Grace.”

Reginald clears his throat. “A word, your highness?”

I nod, and the Syrith bows her head as if that will be enough to prevent her from hearing our conversation. Reginald throws a barrier around us.

“Your Grace, you seem to be struggling with the idea of rejecting Ms. Lark’s proposal, but I feel compelled to remind you that we’re still recovering from the war. Eye on the prize: replenish the coffers while also continuing to rebuild what was lost. That is our focus. Urgent mattersonlyare to be taken into consideration, remember?”

“But surely, saving this woman from sexual servitudeisurgent!”

Reginald breathes in an exhausted sigh. “Your highness, our entire economy is on the verge of collapse. Many of our towns still lie in rubble. Countless families are still displaced. As much as I wouldloveto save everyone, you can’t pour from an empty cup. If you like, I will make a note of her name for us to revisit her proposal in a year’s time, if our circumstances have improved. Alright?”