Page 48

His back and arm muscles flexed with each heavy breath he took, and Penny feared that the dresser might break in two from how hard his fingers gripped it.

Instead of staying away as Rhysand ordered, Penny had pushed open his bedroom door, only to take a step back at the view before her. Broken vases and furniture laid across the floor in halves and tiny pieces, with two window glasses broken, and Rhysand was leaning on the furniture with his back to her.

“Rhysand?”

“I told you to get out, did I not?”

His voice stung her, but she stood her ground.

“You did, but I will not leave until you tell me what happened out there.”

His blue eyes became as dark and unreadable as stone as he turned his neck to look at her.

“See? This is what I mean!”

He pushed himself off the dresser and turned to her. Penny tilted her head to the side, trying to make sense of his words.

“This union, this marriage, everything was a mistake.”

Penny took a step toward him. “Surely you do not mean that…”

Rhysand scoffed.

“It is impossible for you to mind your damn business. You have a knack for meddling in affairs that do not concern you.”

Penny stared at him with burning, reproachful eyes. His words, his attitude, his stance, all of it annoyed her.

“Your words fail to explain the reason for your reaction, Rhysand. I only prepared an event for you to enjoy your birthday that you have not done in years, as I was told. What is so bad about that?”

His laughter raked her.

“I will not leave until you explain the issue.” She folded her arms, adjusting her stance. Blue, angry eyes followed her movements.

“This is so typical of you. You always think the best of others, to the point of overlooking their flaws, trying to shed light on people who are not worth it, you cannot benefit from it.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, Rhysand. I believe there is no human born without flaws and–”

“I just wish you would stop being sonaïve.” He inhaled sharply.

“You make all these assumptions about me, but you know what? You know nothing about me, nothing at all.”

Rhysand mirrored her stance, folding his arms. “Try me.”

“What is my favorite color?”

“At first glance, I thought it was yellow, but it is pink.”

Penny said, her hands dropping to her sides.

“My favorite dessert?”

“Sugar biscuits, but you prefer them with orange juice.”

Her eyes widened.

“My favorite season?”

“Spring, because of the sunshine, greenery, and flowers. But secretly, autumn fascinates you, too, because of the orange leaves. Your least favorite season is winter because it makes you wonder how animals without shelter are faring,”