Page 78 of Princess of Air
She rolls her eyes. “Well, if you think you can show us all up by—”
“Are you joking? You can’t possibly believe I did this to prove myself!”
“Of course not,” Ry says. “That’s never the reason, which makes it all the worse. You never have to try half as hard as any of us to achieve things. You just stroll into being the most perfect person in the family.”
A hysterical chuckle pushes out of me. “You are insane. I am far from perfect, I assure you.” Thank the gods Tomas isn’t here; I’d flush bright red if I looked at him now. Me? The perfect princess? The one who sneaks off during a ball to fuck in the cellar. At a ball where her betrothed is. “And if you thought I was before, my running off should have cleared up that misunderstanding. I assume Mother and Father were furious?”
“Of course they were,” Rylan says as Nina presses her lips together and avoids looking at anyone.
“What are you not saying?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Her coy smile says otherwise, but I’m not sure I care.
“We’re here now,” Rylan says, “so let’s get this over with. I want an early start tomorrow.”
Aggravated though we may be, we do get it over with. Dinner is miserable. Neither Tomas nor Jamys speaking to me is a unique kind of torment. The three of us plus Urian in a room together is a thing of nightmares. We all know the awkward truth, except that Tomas doesn’t know Jamys is aware. Tomas and I also haven’t discussed having more between us than sex. How I managed to tell my betrothed I’m in love with Tomas before I told him still baffles me, and I am dying to tell him that I’ll refuse to marry Jamys. Urian insists that Jamys return with us to Alchos for the remainder of the trials—he was meant to remain there with his mother and sister after all. Tonight, I am not of the mindset to stare Urian down as I was our last night at Mirador, but I don’t have to meet his wretched eyes to guess what he wants—Jamys to stay as close to me as possible.
At least it can’t be worse.
As we rise from the table to retreat to our rooms, King Urian stops me. “May I have a word with you, Princess?” His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it.
My gaze slides to Tomas, to his blanched knuckles where he grips the back of his chair. I half-expect him to throw it at Urian, but he turns and marches out of the room. I roll my shoulders back and meet Urian’s eyes. “Yes, of course.”
My siblings file out. Jamys stops at my side. “He’ll behave this time,” he whispers. “If I wasn’t sure of it, I wouldn’t allow him to be alone with you.”
“I’m not concerned for myself.”
He looks at me pleadingly.
“Don’t worry, you won’t rise to the throne today.”
My assurance only pulls a sigh from him before he leaves.
“Thank you again for coming here,” Urian says. “You saved this city.”
“Not for your sake.”
“No, it wouldn’t be. Arabella, I am sorry for my horrendous behavior toward you. Difficult as it may be for you to believe, I am trying to protect my son and his happiness.”
I almost laugh. “You care nothing for his happiness. Wasn’t it you who told him about my affair?”
“He deserved to know. You obviously felt the same.”
I grind my teeth together. How dare he compare our choices. He’d only have shared the information so Jamys could try to wedge himself between Tomas and me. I needed him to understand why I’ve been so hot and cold and why I can’t marry him.
“How did you find out?”
Urian’s remorseful, downcast eyes glitter when he raises them to me briefly before the mask snaps back on. “Servants see more than they let on.”
The fire of my rage is doused by the statement. Of course they do, but I wouldn’t think anyone in Mirador Palace would betray our trust that way.
Urian shifts the conversation. “But it’s for the best that everything is out in the open, I think. The two of you can move forward on equal footing now. In fact,”—he raps his fingers on the table—“since you’ve travelled for days alone together, perhaps it would be prudent for you to marry now.”
I rub my lips together, almost guilty for how delighted I am by his pathetic attempt. “You know well enough that such impropriety is of little concern to me.” I step toward him slowly, predatorily. “You think you’re sorry for your treatment of me now, but you have no idea how sorry you’ll be. I’ll not be marrying Jamys here or anywhere. It is only because he is twice the man you are that I won’t dissolve our betrothal in the most indelicate ways possible. But do not think for a moment that I don’t see your desperate attempt to lock me in.”
His face pinches into a tight scowl. “We have a contract.”
“I don’t care. You cannot contain me. You cannot control me. My magic and my body will never belong to you or Ceraun.” I turn my back to him. On my way out, I add, “At any rate, I wouldn’t be the kind of queen you’d like to have in your kingdom.”