Page 28 of The Broken Dawn

"I'm sure he has." Jakob's response was barely audible through the doors, but Harald could see the way his eyes flicked to Christian.

Christian's smile was visible even in the moonlight as he bowed slightly to Rachel. "Of course." The words carried clearly as he moved closer to the doors. "I'll fetch us some champagne."

Harald shrank further back into the shadows as Christian passed Jakob. Whatever Christian murmured was too quiet to hear, but Harald saw Jakob's shoulders tense. Once Christian disappeared around the corner of the terrace, Rachel whirled on her brother with sudden fury.

"Don't start with me, Yasha. I'm in no mood⁠—"

"What are you thinking?" Jakob hissed, his voice rising just enough for Harald to catch every word. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

Harald's stomach began to sink as he watched the siblings face off in the moonlight.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Rachel shot back, her voice carrying clearly through the glass. "Why is it so hard to believe someone like him might actually enjoy my company?"

"Because I know him, Rachel. This isn't about you—it's about me. He's using you to get to me."

Rachel's laugh was harsh enough that Harald winced. "Not everything is about you, Jakob. Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, he finds me interesting? That I might be more than just your little sister?"

"Rachel—"

"No, you listen to me." She jabbed a finger at Jakob's chest, and Hal could see the fury radiating from her small frame. "You don't get to lecture me about getting too close to royalty. I see how you look at Prince Harald, how your eyes follow him everywhere. You think you're being subtle?"

Harald's breath caught, fogging the glass in front of his face. His heart hammered against his ribs as Jakob's face went pale in the moonlight.

"That's different—" Jakob started.

"Why? Because you're so much smarter than me? So much more mature?" Rachel's voice cracked slightly, and Harald could hear the pain beneath her anger. "I'm not a child anymore, Jakob. I know what I'm doing."

Harald's hands clenched at his sides as he watched Jakob's shoulders slump.

"Do you?" Jakob's voice softened, and Harald had to strain to hear him. "Because Christian... he doesn't just get bored, Rachel. He destroys things. For fun."

The words sent ice through Harald's veins. He knew Christian could be cruel, but hearing it laid out so starkly made his chest tighten.

"And you expect me to do what about that? Break it off with him and stick to nice farm boys who smell like sheep?" Rachel shook her head, her curls catching the moonlight. "Maybe I want something more than that in my life. Maybe I want to know what it feels like to dance with someone who makes me feel..." She trailed off, her eyes distant. "Important. Beautiful. Like I could be more than just a laundress's daughter."

Harald's throat constricted. The longing in her voice was too familiar, too close to his own desperate need to be seen as more than just his title.

"Rachel..." Jakob reached for her, but she stepped back.

"Don't." Her chin lifted defiantly. "You don't get to be the only one who dreams bigger than their station, big brother."

Harald shifted slightly, and the movement must have caught the light. Both siblings turned toward the doors, and he found himself frozen like a deer in headlights. Jakob's eyes met his through the glass, and something unspoken passed between them—guilt, recognition, and a shared understanding of being caught.

Rachel noticed him too, her smile turning vicious. "Well, would you look at that. Excellent timing, Your Highness." She dropped into an exaggerated curtsy that was visible even through the glass. "I'll leave you with your prince, Jakob. At least one of us should get to play with royalty tonight."

Jakob's jaw tightened, and Harald could see the words forming on his lips even though he couldn't hear them through the glass: "Rachel⁠—"

"Save it," she said, turning away. "Christian will be back with champagne soon. I'd hate to keep him waiting."

She swept past Harald with another curtsy, this one barely meeting the minimum requirements of protocol, and disappeared into the ballroom.

Jakob stood rigid, watching his sister vanish through the doors. His shoulders were tense, and Harald could see the muscle working in his jaw. After a long moment, he turned to face Harald.

"How much of that did you hear?" Jakob asked, his voice rough.

"Enough," Harald admitted. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to⁠—"

"It doesn't matter," Jakob cut him off. He ran a hand through his hair, disrupting its careful styling. "She won't listen. And why should she? I'm hardly in a position to lecture anyone about knowing their place."