Page 24

ELINOR

“Where is Papa?” Stacia whines for the umpteen millionth time at dinner. Neither the king nor Prince Alistair deigned to join us, and while I’d be thrilled to never see Tremaine’s face again, I don’t like not knowing where my stepfather is.

Did he leave of his own accord? Has Alistair done something to him? The fact that I don’t know disturbs me. He said Tremaine was fine, but he wouldn’t quite meet my eye.

I keep glancing at the sun going down over the town below. The stone buildings are painted with a wash of orange and pink, the sky an ombre of deep-blue.

Beautiful.

I sigh and chase the expertly-prepared vegetables around the plate one more time with my fork, wondering how long this beautiful life will last.

“I bet he’s met a woman.” Drucilla sniffs.

I could almost believe it. Tremaine wouldn’t hesitate to disappear into the arms of a wealthy widow. Part of me can’t blame him if he did. His daughters are safe and cared for. I’m out of his reach. Why shouldn’t he pursue his own pleasure?

Because he’s a terrible person.

I shush the little voice inside of me. I refuse to become vindictive. I’m worried about his safety. I am. Truly. But mostly, I’m uneasy that the cunning jackal will find a way to spoil my hard-won happiness.

“You’re quiet, Cinderella,” Drucilla says, sneering the nickname she’s saddled me with. “Where is your prince? In the arms of a prettier woman?”

With no one around to hear their digs at me, I suppose she feels emboldened.

A twinge low in my belly reminds me of the wondrous afternoon I spent in Alistair’s bed.

My heart clenches. Let this be real. I want him to love me enough to understand that revenge isn’t what I want, even if he feels compelled to seek satisfaction through violence.

No matter how much Tremaine deserves punishment, I am desperate to forget that chapter of my life.

“Alistair said he was searching for husbands for the two of you,” I inform her neutrally, gauging their reactions. “I asked him to find you suitable partners. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all be married together?”

I beam at my stepsisters like this is the best idea I’ve ever had.

“A husband?” Stacia perks up.

Cilla scoffs.

Narrowing her eyes, Stacia says, “Just because you don’t want one doesn’t mean I have to be a spinster forever.”

“It’s customary for the eldest daughter to marry first,” says Cilla. “I never said I didn’t want a husband. I have no intention of being a spinster. I still plan to persuade Prince Alistair to make me his queen.”

I gasp at her audacity. My stepsister lifts her chin, daring me to challenge her, but Stacia speaks before I can.

“You can say your vows first.” She smiles smugly.

I shouldn’t open my mouth. But it pops out despite my better judgment. “Technically, I am the eldest. I should go first.”

Both sisters glower at me. I give them my sweetest smile. “But, since I am marrying the prince, and you will not be, Cilla, I can be convinced to allow you to walk down the aisle first. I can afford to be generous.” I shove my chair back from the dinner table. “If you’ll excuse me.”

* * *

The next morning, I encounter Alistair when I get lost between the dining room and my bedroom. He pops up the stairs displaying no hesitation whatsoever when he sees me.

“Sunshine.”

I can’t help but smile. A simple endearment and that cocky bounce to his step, exuding confidence, is enough. He hasn’t yet won my favor though, and I must hold his feet to the fire if I’m going to have the kind of husband I want. “How are things proceeding?”

He takes my hand and brushes a kiss across my knuckles. Heat flares in my core.

“Halfway there, my love. A few more hours, and I should have our wedding preparations finalized.”

“Really.”

“Yes, my sweet Elinor. I am as eager to be wedded as you are. Did you think I wasn’t up to the task?”

“No. I was confident you would come through. I thought it would take longer, that’s all.” This is suspiciously quick work.

Again, he kisses my hand. This time, he lifts his gaze to mine and holds my eye. “Each passing moment without knowing you are mine is agony. I would move heaven and earth to be with you.”

“Sounds as though you have.” I laugh nervously.

“Almost. One challenge yet remains.”

“Killian?”

He nods. I knew that would be the most difficult part of my request. I see the way he misses his old friend and I want that fence mended, for his sake. But it’s not really up to me.

“I dispatched a messenger to Thorn Mountain last night. He would have arrived by daybreak if he rode straight through.” His forest gaze meets mine.

“The one time I attempted to visit, I was told off, in no uncertain terms. I daresay I deserved it. I was angry and arrogant. I wouldn’t blame them if Killian and Briar sent my messenger home in pieces.

” A wry smile quirks up one corner of his mouth.

The sadness I find there wrenches my bruised heart.

“I doubt they would have answered had I tried to go in person.”

“I appreciate that you’re trying.” I do. I’m not sure whether I’ll decide to give him a pass or not if they don’t respond. Part of me is desperately curious to meet the lost princess and her dark knight. Their love gave me hope when I desperately needed some.

Now that I know how much their elopement hurt Alistair, I’m less enthralled by the folk tales about their forbidden romance. But if this marriage is going to succeed, I can’t let him think he can get away with placating me in a halfhearted attempt at reconciliation.

Besides, it will be good for him. I’m not demanding this out of cruelty or vindictiveness. I’m holding his feet to the fire out of love.

I’ll wait for as long as I have to for him to mend fences with this Killian. Waiting won’t hurt Alistair. He’s merely accustomed to getting what he wants, when he wants it.

That is as much a reason as any to stand my ground. A king needs to learn patience. If he can’t learn that from me, then the marriage isn’t worth the paper it’s written upon.

“We will hold your sisters’ weddings in the private chapel,” says Alistair, bringing me back to the present.

“And ours?”

“If it happens.” He holds my gaze with his like a forest on a misty morning. I take his hand and squeeze.

“It will happen. Eventually. You’ll find a way to contact Briar and Killian.”

Alistair hugs me around the waist and buries his face in my bosom. For once, it’s not sexual. He needs comfort. A soft smile touches my lips as I stroke his hair.

“What if they won’t see me?”

“They will.”

“I was an ass, Ellie. Such an ass.”

“You regret it now.”

He holds me tighter and sighs. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to claim you, Sunshine. You are all the sweetness and sunlight I’ve been missing all my life. All the good things that I am not, and never will be.”

“That’s not true.” Buried deep inside the notorious prince is a good man.

As “Alex,” he was able to shed the ingrained habits and escape the deep wounds inflicted by his own father for a single night.

I had a chance to see beneath the facade.

I needed rescuing; saving me made him feel like a hero.

I needed love; he’s given me all the affection he’d never shown any other person.

“Keep believing that,” he says fondly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Something is bothering him. Is it Killian? My heart aches that he’s in pain. He’s been isolated for so long, despite being constantly surrounded by people. Just like I have been. We are similar in many ways.

But I need to be sure the changes in him are permanent before I can commit to this for the rest of my life. I can’t spend my life with a liar.

“Tell me more about my sisters’ suitors,” I prompt him.

“Not suitors. I just came from the introductions. Both women have agreed to wed the men I presented to them.”

“You’re not serious.” My astonishment and skepticism must be written on my face.

“I am entirely serious,” he says. “Both of your sisters are to be wed alongside us. Our wedding can commence this afternoon as planned.”

“Who are they?”

“A very brave knight volunteered to marry Anastacia.”

“I have difficulty believing that.”

“Othmar likes her.” Alistair makes a crude gesture indicating breasts. “He met her at the ball while he was acting as my stand-in.”

“She accepted?” I ask in disbelief.

“She did. Enthusiastically, once he told her there would be an estate. Your estate. I hope you don’t mind. Legally, Scinder House reverts to the crown.”

A shudder racks me. “I meant it when I said I never want to return to that place.” While it saddens me to know I’ll never return to my childhood home, Stacia is the one person with happy memories of that house. It’s fitting that she should be its next mistress.

But wait…why would it revert to the Crown? Tremaine, much though I loathe him, owns the property. Unless Alistair used the threat of seizing possession of the estate as a cudgel to get my stepsisters to agree to marry the suitors he chose for them.

Or, something has happened to Tremaine. A chill traces my nape, raising gooseflesh—and my suspicions.

All of us will need our stepfather’s blessing to go through with our marriages. He knows this. Alistair wouldn’t have done anything to stop us from marrying.

“I wish them every happiness. What about Drucilla?” I don’t ask the questions that are wheeling chaotically through my mind.

Alistair pulls a face. “She is also willing, although it did cost me to secure her agreement.”

“Who is her betrothed?”

“His name is Lord Layton. Until about an hour ago, he was a prisoner in the Tower. He is old and a bit worse for wear. His one wish was not to die in prison. Now that he’s gotten the reprieve he craved, he probably won’t live very long. Drucilla will be a wealthy widow in no time.”

“She’ll love that. What was Layton imprisoned for?”

“Tax evasion. My father confiscated his lands and locked him away as punishment. To my knowledge, he isn’t violent. He’ll be grateful for the touch of any woman during his declining years.”

Alistair’s solution, though unconventional, shows a surprising amount of consideration to the kind of women my stepsisters are—awful—and the kind of men who might have a chance at making them into slightly better versions of themselves.

He could be an excellent king, if guided in the right direction.

Is it arrogant of me to believe I could guide him?

Perhaps. Yet Alistair listens to what I say.

Look at how fast he worked to find me after the ball, and how quickly he’s worked to fulfill my requests.

What a rush to discover I have real influence over this powerful man who accepts counsel from few others.

I intend to wield it well.

“And my stepfather’s permission?” I ask with unshakable optimism.

“I have it,” he says triumphantly, producing a scroll from his interior pocket. He unfurls it, stretching the document long and holding it out for me to read.

“That doesn’t look like Tremaine’s handwriting.” I lean in, squinting. Alistair snaps the paper closed.

“It satisfied the clerk,” he says in the sullen tone of a boy who’s been caught in a fib.

“Let me see that.” I try to snatch it, but he holds it high over his head.

I glare at him until he relents. I stretch the parchment and scan the handwriting.

I can tell at a glance that it isn’t his.

Tremaine’s has a notable slant and usually wobbles due to his unsteady hand. This is crisp, rolling and…princely.

A forgery.

I twist the scroll back and tap him in the chest. “It doesn’t satisfy me .” I pin him with a narrow stare. “Are you sure nothing has happened to him?”

The faintest flicker of darkness passes over his handsome features.

“Your stepfather is fine. He simply had matters to attend to back home.”

“Such as?” I cock one eyebrow.

“The animals you left behind,” Alistair supplies without missing a beat.

I shake my head. He lies far too smoothly.

“Tremaine wouldn’t care one whit if the foxes ate every chicken in the coop.

I doubt he would notice if the pigs got out.

I know he doesn’t care about my wedding, but he would never miss his own daughters’ nuptials.

Don’t lie to me again, Alistair. Produce my stepfather or the wedding is off. ”

The darkness that flickered over his features earlier descends. I turn on my heel and stride away. I am not afraid of his anger.

I am only afraid of what he might have done to Tremaine.