Page 31 of A Legacy of the Light

“Noted,” he grins and leans back in his chair, looking out over the lake again, breaking the intensity between us.

“I have a question,” Tavish starts, a mischievous look in his eye.

“Go on,” I prompt.

“The guy at the bar. Is he your boyfriend?” His question catches me off guard.

“Elliot? No, we just met that night and we hit it off. I asked Rach to tell him I’m on an extended vacation with no cell service and don’t know when I’ll be back.”

My answer seems to please him.

“Why do you ask?” I continue, tilting my head to the side.

“Just curious,” he replies with a smirk. “You seemed pretty comfortable with him.” A statement, not a question.

“Yeah, well, you can blame that on the gin, Prosecco, and pornstar martinis,” I tell him.

“Lightweight?” he queries.

I nod in confirmation and he huffs in amusement. “You won’t stand a chance at the ball. Human alcohol is like watered-down piss compared to Seelie wine.”

“Good to know. I’ll stay away from it then.” I make a mental note to ask more information from Reyne later. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of all the Seelie court.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he says winking at me. I smile at him in return while I try to hide the way that simple action makes my stomach flip.

“Anyway, what about you? No Seelie princess to keep your bed warm at night?” I ask.

He barks a loud laugh. “No, the courtiers are dull as fuck and only care about my crown. I’d rather spend my life alone than with those vapid creatures.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Tavish,” I quip, and his smile deepens. I can’t imagine how it must feel to have people only interested in you for your title. He is undeniably beautiful, and I don’t doubt he could have any woman of his choosing. I suspect he’s not being fully truthful with me. A guy like Tavish will surely have someone to see to his . . . needs.

“I want to be challenged. I want a partner who will keep me on my toes and put me in my place despite my crown,” he confesses, looking at me intently.

I hold his gaze. “Do you actually have a crown, or are you just playing a game to make me think you’re a prince, when you’re actually the guy who shovels the horse shit?”

He dips his chin and purses his lips. “It would be a hell of a play if that was the case. Yes, I have a crown. You’ll see it at the ball. You’ll also see just how fucking exhausting it is fending off the hungry vultures.” Tavish sounds frustrated at the prospect already.

“Poor Prince Tavish. Too many women to choose from. It must be so difficult for you.” My tone is heavy with sarcasm.

“I might be a prince, but it didn’t stop you calling me a fucking creep, did it?” Tavish challenges.

I throw my napkin at his head and he catches it as he laughs.

“Piss off! I didn’t know you were a prince when I said that,” I exclaim with false indignation.

“And it’s not stopped you from telling me to piss off. In my own quarters,” he points out.

I stick my tongue out at him in reply and he shakes his head in amusement. The look on his face makes me realize I’m doing exactly what he just said he wants a woman to do: to challenge him. To treat him like a person, not a title to be won.

I quickly change my tone and say, “Well, good luck to whoever you end up with. I imagine putting you in your place, living up to the standards of a crown, and being an actual decent person will be hard.”

“Yes, I imagine she’ll be quite difficult to find,” he replies, standing to clear our plates from the table. I clamber off the bench and help him clean up.

“What will you do with your day while I’m off spending all your money then?” I ask as I help him wash the dishes, surprised he doesn’t have servants to do this for him.

“Boring princely stuff. Mostly sitting with my father in council meetings about the rebels and the failing barrier. We’ll go round in the usual circle since we have no new solutions. I’ll train with the guards in the afternoon. I’d much rather watch you attempt to spend all my money, though.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate me. I could do some serious damage if you give me free rein with your bank account,” I challenge, flipping the dish towel I’m using over my shoulder. I pop my hip and cross my arms over my chest. His eyes travel down my body. When they meet mine again, there’s a glint in them that wasn’t there before.