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As soon as they approached him, he turned, eyes darting anxiously between them. Wren understood what Mary had said then. He did seem unsure where before he was kind, but confident. Wren didn’t like the uneasy feeling that wormed its way into her stomach at the thought.
“All is well, brother,” Mary said, moving to take his arm. “I had best go make small talk with some of the nobility lest they think me a snob.”
“A painfully false conclusion, to be sure,” said Wesley, smiling fondly at his little sister.
She gave his arm a small shove before moving towards a group of ladies gathered nearby. When she was gone, Wren felt acutely aware of this being the first time they were alone together since the garden.
Wesley shifted uncomfortably and she could see the weight of their last meeting was heavy on his mind. "I was worried about you last night."
“You left.” Wren hadn’t realized that she had been upset about his departure until the words left her mouth.
“I was a coward,” Wesley breathed. “I couldn’t watch you so clearly in pain, but see him be your salvation when I could do nothing."
"My salvation." Wren laughed bitterly.
Wesley narrowed his eyes at her, but there was an unmistakable flash of relief on his handsome face. "Wren, what I said yesterday—I said because I thought you were finding happiness here."
Wren felt the tear slide down her cheek before she even knew it was happening. "Wesley, I cannot do this. I am so sorry." She moved to leave, but the king was blocking her exit and she fought to control her emotion.
If she remembered one thing Lady Daugherty had taught her it was to never let your enemies see your true feelings. She saw the satisfied look the king gave before he twisted his features into mock concern, and knew that it was too late to heed her emotions.
"Daughter, tears on such a happy day? Perhaps Prince Wesley might be so good as to take the princess to get some fresh air." He said the words so congenial that Wren knew this was a game and that he was confident of his tactic.
If Wesley wondered at the king's request, he did not show it as he offered Wren his arm with an agreeable nod to the king. Wren dared a glance behind her as they walked through the throne room doors only to see the king smiling in their direction. A sinking feeling grew in Wren, and she knew that she was losing.
As they walked and began to pass less people, Wesley asked quietly, "What do they know?"
"Nothing, everything," groaned Wren.
Wesley tensed next to her, her arm still in his. She couldn't help but wonder if he regretted what had happened between them. She had replayed his words in her head over and over hearing the sincerity in them, but maybe he had not realized the cost would be so high. He led them with more purpose to one of the gardens where they found a small corner, unseen from anywhere else.
When he turned to her he did not release her arm from his. "Wren, I need you to tell me what happened yesterday." Wesley looked at her earnestly and her heart broke knowing that his priorities would have shifted with her arrival. "I asked my sister into this snake's den. I need to protect her."
Wren nodded, understanding even if it fractured something in her. "Wesley, I need to tell you from the beginning. It's clear the king is using you and you deserve to know all of it."
Wesley only looked at her with a cool awareness.
"I cannot tell you here. It isn't safe."
The Bishop's warning echoed through her as she considered that he could be watching them even now though she could not say how. Wesley nodded in understanding. The halls were previously empty which seemed like a blessing as they walked in silence, Wren's stomach churning with what she was about to confess. She wondered if he would still want her when she confessed the truth, but then had to also wonder if she even wanted him to want her. She couldn't deny the feelings that had begun to grow between them, but she also knew it was more complicated than just them.
When Wren realized where he was bringing her, her stomach fluttered a not altogether unpleasant feeling and she hated herself for it. Making sure no one was in the hallway, Wesley quietly opened the door to his rooms, holding it open for her. His rooms were considerably smaller than hers and she was dismayed to realize he only had one room with a large bed, a desk, a fireplace, and two small chairs facing it.
Wesley seemed to not be afflicted by any of the discomfort Wren had and only gestured to the chairs where she took a seat while he worked to coax the fire back to life. When he was finished he sat across from her and looked at her expectantly.
Wren took a deep breath. "I am not from Crishaven."
"I know that," he said with a soft smile.
Wren's mouth fell open, startled by the revelation. "What do you mean?"
Wesley's smile fell from his face, replaced by something she couldn't name. "Wren. I have always known that was untrue. The day we first met."
Her thoughts scattered across her mind as she shifted through them trying to find what he spoke of until she remembered how she had been naive of his family and their connections.
"More than that, there was so much grief in you the day we met. It didn’t quite add up with the story they pedaled about you being a love match made in Crishaven."
How many others had seen through the lie and what did it mean that they had? Ignoring the uncertainty that unsettled her she made her decision. She would choose honesty this time.
