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“Forgive my brother, Wren. He’s only bitter because father rejected his proposal today.” Richard narrowed his eyes at his brother as if he were reminding him that they were meant to be in love when in front of others. A foreign prince likely required that duplicity and certainly when it was his sister Richard was meant to marry.
If Wesley noticed the tension between them, he made no sign of it. “For what it is worth, Malaki, I thought your proposal very admirable.”
Malaki turned his gaze from her to the other prince, and Wren felt a wave of relief at the release of his cold eyes on her. “Thank you.” His words were clipped and she wondered if anyone was immune to his disdain.
Wesley seemed unmoved by the lack of warmth from Malaki and smiled warmly at her, “It was wonderful to see you again, Wren.”
Malaki stiffened at the use of her name and she wondered if the informality was a breach of some kind. She smiled back at Wesley, ignoring Malaki. “You as well, Wesley. I hope I may listen to you play your violin sometime soon.”
He gave an enthusiastic, “Of course!” and then nodded to the other two princes before setting off.
Forcing herself to focus on the other two men, she was met with anger in Malaki’s eyes. If he was mad that she had made a friend in such a cold place, she was not sorry. Despite his attempts to surround her with only his choice of company, she did have some independence and she wouldn’t allow his temper to take that away from her.
Richard smiled as if someone had said something delightful. “As much as I would love to stay, I have training with Gray. How unfortunate for me.” As he walked away, she heard him chuckling.
Wren could not see anything remotely funny about the situation to warrant the reaction unless he was taking pleasure in how much they could not stand each other’s presence. She very much regretted coming here, as she could see Malaki was in no mood for demands.
He only raised a brow at her, some of the anger fading behind his eyes, but he did not speak.
“I need to speak to you about what you promised—” She was cut off as he forcefully grabbed her arm and pulled her down the opposite hallway the other two men had gone.
He did not loosen his grip on her until he had practically shoved her into an alcove she hadn’t even known existed. Wren realized, with sudden alarm, that they were standing very close together in the small space.
“Wren. You cannot just say whatever you like wherever you like. Do you not think the walls are listening to you?” Malaki’s voice was a series of rushed words of reprimand.
Despite the warning in his words she tilted her head. “If I am being honest, that actually sounds quite paranoid.”
“Gods help me, you have been too long alone with Sophie.” His words were heated, but his expression held none of it. If she hadn’t known any better she might have thought that she had amused him.
A smile fought its way onto her face against her will as she realized that she had, indeed, sounded like Sophie.
Malaki seemed to relax a fraction. “I have written to the North Helm sorcerer, but it is a delicate matter. I cannot have anyone finding out, especially my father or the Bishop. They will know at once what it is I seek.”
Wren felt a jolt of hope at knowing there was already a letter in route. “How long do you expect till you have a reply?” She knew she should have attempted to conceal the eagerness in her voice, but she was too hopeful.
Malaki pinched the bridge of his nose and made a small sound of annoyance which quickly deteriorated her good mood. “You don’t understand. I could not state my intentions in the letter I sent, and it will take some correspondence to determine if it is even safe. North Helm is a month-long journey from here.”
She only stared at him, her mind unwilling to calculate what he was saying. Her lungs felt as if someone had taken all the air from them.
Even worse, Malaki was looking at her with obvious pity. “It will be months, if not years before we can even attempt it, Wren. I thought you understood this.”
Wren had to remind herself to take a breath as her eyes stung. Needing to grasp onto something, anything to fight back the tears that threatened to overflow, she held onto the anger that coiled in the pit of her stomach. “Because you tell me so much? Because you are such an open book? You tell me nothing and what you want me to know you send your aunt or your cousin to tell me. You don’t even have the decency to speak to me except when you must.” Wren was grateful for the venom in her voice that served to cover up her desperation.
Some emotion she could not read briefly passed over his face before he said quietly, “I did not think you would relish my company.”
Wren sighed. He was right that his very presence made her anxious and the nausea when he was too close was unwelcome. “I deserve to know what is happening. If this is to be my life for—” She could not bring herself to say it out loud. “You need to communicate with me. You cannot leave me in the dark.”
Malaki looked to be fighting a silent battle in his mind before he sighed wearily, running a hand over the top of his head which held a tight black knot. Instead of the stinging retort she expected, he only said, “I’ll try.” His voice sounded as if he was choking on the words.
“Thank you,” responded Wren, her voice barely a whisper.
Malaki only stared at her longer, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be studying her as if she were a puzzle he were trying to solve.
With their conflict resolved, Wren became aware of the tiny space they were cramped in. She shifted uncomfortably and Malaki shifted as if realizing the same thing.
“Did you have plans for today, outside of accosting me outside the council room?” His voice held no real heat in the words and Wren nearly gaped at the unexpected question.
“I did not.” She wanted to complain about how she had very little to occupy her days, but did not want to seem more petulant than her response already did.
