Page 113 of Bride of Ash & Dust

I laugh before I can stop myself. It’s sharp and short, almost a snort.

“Princess,” I say. “Do you think I want to hang around a bunch of soldiers who were just attacked by Vsenrog? Soldiers who have nothing to do but gossip and wonder why the princess’s ragged guard got a room at the top of the lodge, and if maybe it has something to do with the man from Vsenrog she just married?”

Lilias frowns. She looks like she’s trying to talk herself out of something.

“We could tell them who you are,” she says slowly, as though the thought just occurred to her. “If they know you’re my— You’re a prince. Well, they’d have to treat you differently.”

I laugh again. Her cheeks burn, and I have to stop myself from reaching forward and taking her hand in mine.

“It’s a nice idea,” I say.

“No, it’s not,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re right. I just— I don’t want to force you to travel when you’re hurt.”

“You’re not forcing me to do a thing,” I say. I almost add that I’m not that hurt, but something tells me she’d be able to spot that for the bald-faced lie that it is.

Her expression softens, and a horrible, horrible idea bubbles up from the dark recesses of my mind. It’s about as attractive as biting a blade, but when will I get another chance? I certainly won’t be alone with the princess again while we’re traveling, and I seriously doubt we’ll be able to have a private conversation in the Marion palace as she’s trying to break the news to her father that his kingdom has been invaded.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say.

I regret the words as soon as they fly out of my lips. Lilias watches me with wide eyes. Lamplight flickers across her exquisite lips and the curve of her breasts.

I told her I’d be honest with her, didn’t I? My gods, I’m an idiot.

“With all of this,” I stammer, waving my hand at the space between us in a pathetic attempt to convey the mess between our kingdoms, “our marriage— Being married to me, I mean. It’s not— It’s not in your best interest.”

Her eyes shine in the lamplight. She blinks rapidly, then turns toward the window. Her hands twist together in her lap.

“I don’t understand,” she says in a soft voice.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. I just have to tell her, godsdamn it. I just have to say that I’m not a prince, that our marriage is a sham, and that my entire life is a lie.

I clear my throat.

“You don’t need to be married to me,” I say. “Not anymore.”

She turns back to me, blinking like there’s something in her eye. “But we are married. We toured both of our kingdoms. We can’t undo that.”

“It could be annulled,” I reply.

The words feel like a dagger sliding between my ribs. Her mouth opens, and I force myself to push on.

“Our marriage hasn’t been consummated,” I continue. “Your father could annul it. Or any priest of Mirdia.”

She pulls in a quick, short breath, cutting off my words, then smooths down her skirt and comes to her feet.

“I don’t have anything to offer,” I say, as she looks down at me with an expression on her face that makes me think she got lost and stumbled into this room by accident. “Not now. Not anymore.”

She pulls in another quick breath, fast and sharp like a cry, then turns to the door.

“And you could be free,” I say, almost under my breath.

My wife pulls open the door, steps into the hallway, and then slams the door shut behind her. The lamp on the wall gutters, casting strange shadows around the small, lonely room.

Well, that could not have gone any worse.

And I didn’t even tell her the fucking truth.

Chapter 62