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Still, it’s a small comfort to know If Titus knew what I’ve done with her already, the marriage would be called off.
Dirk still hasn’t gotten back to me about any legal means of stopping the arrangement, even though he’s supposed to be a legal expert. I’ve taken to my own studies at night, pouring over centuries of legal documents to search for some loophole or kink in the system. If I wasn’t sure of my intent before I started searching, I am now. If anything, devoting so much energy to the hunt for answers has emboldened my purpose more, even though every avenue I look down seems to create a bigger and bigger wall between Elizabeth and I. Either no princes have stepped in to invalidate the arranged marriages of their brothers before, it it hasn’t been written about.
Elizabeth smiles politely when Titus finishes his story. As usual, he laughs the loudest at the supposed punch line. I watch her carefully, noticing the way her demure eyes dart to me regularly, or the way her hand shakes slightly when she raises her knife to cut into the meat before her, or even the way she flinches back if Titus moves closer. She’s afraid. Afraid of this place, of these people, of me, most likely.
Yet, if she was truly afraid of me, the signals she’s sending me are highly misleading.
“Roark,” says my mother from the head of the table. “Roark,” she says more firmly.
I look up, only now realizing everyone is turned toward me expectantly.
“Lady Catherine asked you a question,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Pardon,” I say, setting down my napkin. “It seems I’m all out of answers today.”
The screech of my chair is almost deafening in the silence that follows, but I don’t fail to catch the hint of a grin on Elizabeth’s face before I turn to leave the dining hall.
I couldn’t take more of it. I feel the familiar heat of need growing inside me by the minute, so my tolerance for petty aristocratic bullshit is at an absolute low. My mind flashes with images of people I’ve hurt, of the blood I’ve spilled and the pain I’ve caused. The gruesome images only drive the hunger on, intensifying it until I can barely stand it.
But for the first time, something unexpected happens. The bloodlust moves from my chest to my stomach, and then lower… and lower still.
The images of blood and faces contorted in pain fade in my mind, replaced by the perfectly round and white ass of Elizabeth and the sight of me bringing the paddle down on her. The damn woman is going to make me start a civil war and I barely even know her.
I pass out of the innards of the palace where only royalty and those with express permission from royalty are allowed to enter, and I step into the main entry, which is surprisingly busy for this early in the afternoon. Men and women--half of whom are likely just here to complain about something or another--bustle and shove their way toward the waiting area where a team of bored men instruct them to wait their turn.
I’m about to head outside for a breath of fresh air when I see Dirk jogging up to me.
“I thought I told you to bury your face in a book until you found something of substance,” I say.
He comes to a stop, expression grim. “You could say I found something, I guess. But you probably won’t like what I found.”
“Try me.”
“The only way to nullify the arranged marriage between Prince Titus and Princess Elizabeth is if Prince Titus issues a blood challenge against you and loses.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“You think I’ve spent the last several days sitting on my thumb? You know how many virgins I’ve let slip by because I wanted to do this favor for you?”
“Okay, okay. But what if I were to issue a blood challenge to him.”
“It’s not the same, not unless you’re planning to actually kill the man. But the last time a prince killed his brother was in the seventeen hundreds, and it led to a civilian uprising that ultimately sent him to the dungeons where he died a few months later.”
“Encouraging,” I say. “Though I don’t recall asking specifically about Prince Titus and Princess Elizabeth. I was asking hypothetically.”
“Right,” says Dirk. “And I just gave up some of the sweetest pussy in the Shrouded Kingdoms for your hypothetical question. Like fuck.”
“Eloquent as always,” I say, smirking.
Dirk shrugs. “You don’t pay me for my pretty tongue.”
“You sure?” I ask.
He barks a laugh. “Fair enough. Maybe you do.”
“I need you to do me another favor. Tonight.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Send a message to Princess Elizabeth. Let her know I’ve cleared the guards between her room and the exit. Tell her the only thing between her and the escape she craves is me. If I catch her, she knows the price. If I don’t, she earns her freedom. I’ll even escort her through the city walls and get her a car to take her home.”
