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It was as if he were making an observation, and then I wondered if he had been watching me. Had he heard me speak with the selkie?
I glanced at him. “Is that a question?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Enjoy is not a word I would use to describe anything I have experienced here thus far.”
I glanced at Casamir, noticing how his jaw popped as he ground his teeth.
“Why do I doubt you have enjoyed anything in your life thus far?”
I jerked my hand away from him and curled my fingers into fists as they hung at my sides.
We did not speak, and as we entered an unfamiliar part of Casamir’s castle, I stayed one step behind, allowing him to lead. I hated how I now wished I had the warmth of his hand in mine. It was anchoring in this unfamiliar place, but I refused to reach for him and buried that want.
I needed no one.
Life had taught me that. Why else would it take away everyone who loved me?
We passed down a corridor, one side open to the night, and while I had watched it suspiciously before, I was suddenly distracted by the beauty of the vaulted ceiling, which was divided into sections by molding, detailed with vines and roses. The ceiling itself was painted blue, deep like the sky on a cold winter morning.
The hall opened into a dining room, which was dark, save for a few burning candles. A long banquet table ran down the center of the room, packed with tall candelabras, bouquets of weeping flowers, and platters of food. The smell of roasted goose curled into my nose and made my stomach roar with hunger.
“Where is your court?” I asked as Casamir made his way to the head of the table, noting that we were alone.
“Here and there,” he answered as he sat. “Perhaps we will join them after you have eaten.”
A trickle of unease shook my spine. I did not fancy an evening spent with tricky fae.
“Sit.”
He indicated a spot beside him that was already set for me. I did so, though hesitantly, eyeing the food.
“Help yourself,” he said.
I didn’t, though my stomach gurgled loudly.
“There are rumors about fae food,” I said. “Is it true if I eat here, I will remain in your realm forever?”
“The only way you will remain is if you do not guess my name,” he said.
I watched him and he watched me. I wondered what he was looking for, wondered what I was looking for in him. Perhaps some sort of sign that I believed him. But my hunger won out and I filled my plate. The elven prince offered wine, which he poured into a gold chalice.
“Will you not eat?” I asked.
In answer, the prince plucked an apple from the cornucopia of fruit and bit into the crisp flesh. I watched his mouth as he ate, unable to keep myself from thinking about how his lips had skated across my skin.
“Pleased?” he asked.
Hardly.
I turned to my own food and chose a round globe grape to start. As I bit into the fruit, the juice burst from my mouth. I wiped it away with my fingers, sucking the stickiness from them.
When I glanced at Casamir, his mouth had hardened into a tight line, and his long nails had cut into the tender apple.
“Pleased?” I returned.
He narrowed his eyes and set the apple down. We stared at one another, and then I focused on my food, conscious that he was watching my every move. I felt his eyes on me—on my hands as I reached for another grape, on my mouth as I bit into it, on my tongue as it darted out to clean my lips.
