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“Do you think anyone ever does?”
She looked away, trying to peer beyond the depths of the endless forest. Whatever spells kept the elements at bay within the maze’s enclosure were not in effect here, and she shivered against winter’s chill, wishing she’d grabbed her cloak. “I don’t know.”
It was a lie. She already knew no one ever escaped. Not really.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Smart Women Never Do
Numair Tolvannen was a selfish prick. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have brought her here tonight. He hadn’t intended to. Just like he hadn’t intended to walk into Galina’s that morning, or buy that damned dress, but Clare Brighton seemed to have a way of dragging him into her orbit.
Rationally, he knew he hadn’t altered the course of her life. From the moment he’d heard her sing in that Midtown inn, he’d known her path was a straight trajectory here, to the height of the kingdom’s attention.
All he’d done with his interference was speed her journey. Hasten an already guaranteed thing.
“What would you do if I said I’d brought you here for selfish reasons?”
She stiffened for a moment, until she realized he’d taken two steps away from her as he asked the question. She relaxed. “Congratulations, you’re human?”
“Sometimes I wonder if that word means anything,” he murmured.
“So do I.”
What had she seen of their kind, that her voice held such bitterness? He didn’t blame her. He’d seen enough to think that if humanity did mean something, it wasn’t anything good. And yet he was human, so he kept on hoping that someday the species would prove itself worth something.
They lapsed into silence, and that silence was such a relief. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stood with someone and not felt the need to fill the emptiness between them with false things. It almost made him regret how this night was going to end.
But he was tired, and the only thing he regretted was that she was going to be here to see how the evening played out. Somehow, he hadn’t thought of that when he’d sent her that impulsive invitation. Somehow, in the rush of sending it, he’d forgotten what the point of this evening was. He’d only thought that Clare deserved the notoriety of being hired for this event far more than Estrella Vane ever could, so he’d given it to her.
“Should we go back, then?” she asked, when enough time had passed that even he couldn’t ignore they were going to be too late, soon. Or rather, she was.
He nodded, and the walk back was like walking into a deep forest as opposed to out of one, every shadow and oppressive height hanging over him. When they neared the enclosure, he took a slightly different path than they had left by, leading her to the back of one of the enclosure walls.
“The stage is on the other side.” His hand gently brushed the wall, and the foliage rearranged itself, opening a path for her.
“Clare?” She looked up at him, and he almost didn’t say the rest. With the cunning that lurked in her eyes, he doubted she needed him to say the rest. But he was never going to have the opportunity again. “My uncle is not a good man.”
“I should hardly think anyway needs a warning that the Jackal King is not a good man.”
“I know. But whatever you think he may be, I can promise you he is worse.”
“I didn’t think even princes spoke so openly of their kings.”
He gave her a smile, the practiced one that made people see a charming, empty-headed fool, and watched it bounce right off her. “I’m my uncle’s favorite. Everyone knows I get away with everything.”
She shook her head. “True favorites never get away with anything. People with power only value people they can control.”
He laughed, a short, uncalculated sound that surprised him. “True enough.” He gestured to the opening. “My apologies in advance. You’ll be waiting a while.”
“Why?”
“Because the party truly doesn’t start until I arrive. And if I’m not late, I’ll deprive them all of their favorite pastime of betting on precisely how late I will be. If you want to make a small fortune, you can throw your money in on an hour and a quarter.”
“You intend to be that late?”
He grinned. “I do.” He gestured through the opening. “After you.”
She looked through to the stage, hesitated. “What am I supposed to do until you arrive?”
