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The last time I’d seen him in daylight, his hair had whipped around in the wind, his half-buttoned kurta had revealed the dark hair on his chest, his eyes sparkling as he’d dragged me into the sea. I could almost imagine touching him, the weight of his lips against my flesh, how the heat of his body seeped into mine.
The door opened again.
The man from my memories didn’t walk through the door.
Shaan wore a silk outfit in cream and gold, jewels around his neck, a turban heavy with gems, golden slippers, and his eyes glittered with makeup. He looked like a prince. I’d never seen him like that before. I’d almost forgotten he was one.
His eyes widened as he took me in, but then steel slipped into his expression. “Prince.”
“Shaan,” I whispered.
“It’s Prince to you. Or Raja-kumara if you’d rather. You will not address me informally.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I’d expected his hatred, anger, and disgust. Logically I knew that’s how he’d receive me. My heart couldn’t accept it though. It still saw Shaan vulnerable and laughing, or peacefully sleeping, his lips parted and the stubble across his cheeks gleaming against the dark. For him to stand here so formally, staring at me like I carried a plague rushed misery through me. I had eaten so little, and my head swam like I might faint.
“In case you have any machinations planned,” Shaan said, his voice flat, “know that we have this room warded so that you cannot access magic.” He remained a dozen feet from me. “Of course, we can’t control any glamour you might use on yourself.”
I wanted to argue that I wasn’t here for duplicity, but I had glamour in place and I wouldn’t remove it. He didn’t need physical confirmation that I was as despicable as he suspected. My heart wanted to pour forth every thought that had passed through my head since I’d left him. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
His voice remained cold. His behaviors were so unlike the ones of the man I’d fallen in love with. I’d imagined the speech I’d say to him dozens of times during my travels, but now standing in the same room with him, desperate to draw closer and feel the warmth of him against me, my tongue froze.
Shaan shifted his weight so that the reflection of his creamy robe in the tile rippled. “I’m assuming you didn’t make this journey solely to look at me.”
I would, though.Giving my head a shake both to clear my thoughts and to answer him, I replied, “I need to speak with Lira, the woman your brother took from our court.”
Shaan’s expression remained neutral, but a dimple formed by his eyebrow, the same one that deepened when his brow furrowed. I knew him too well, had spent too many hours studying his expressions, not to see the surprise he tried to hide. “You came here to speak with my brother’s wife?”
“His wife?” She’d married him. That’s how he got her past the boundaries of Palaria’s vow to my father. He must have threatened her life and cornered her into accepting. The way he’d looked me in the eyes as he held Lira against her will and pulled her out of the palace made me feel that he did so as retribution to my actions against Shaan. Heat sailed down my limbs, and I clanked my teeth hard to press back the simmering powers that ricocheted through me.
“Yes.” Shaan’s nose flared, and for a moment a crack broke in his careful appearance. He looked almost as I remembered him, thoughtful and intense and fucking beautiful. But I needed to focus on Lira’s well-being.
“Did he force her?” I asked.
Shaan’s eyes flashed. “Clearly someone would have to be forced to marry into our family, wouldn’t they?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Lira is perfectly well and came here of her own accord. However, she’s not at the palace presently.”
She wasn’t here. Maybe he lied to me, but if not, that was a problem. I needed her to come back before my father attempted to secure her return.
“She’s accompanied her husband”—his words came hard and clipped—“on a trip. I can’t say when they’ll return.”
There was that word—husband—again. A niggle of doubt whispered through my mind. Shaan had not proved to be what I’d imagined from growing up hearing about the dark, wickedness of the Prasanna court. He was compassionate and artistic and brilliant. He spoke of his family with humor and love in his voice. Maybe Lira had chosen to marry Sai. He’d stolen her though, against her will. So that couldn’t be right. But the doubt lingered. I couldn’t help but think of the political implications as well. My sister, my father’s only other heir, was married to a Prasanna prince. That bound our courts together in a manner that Father would never approve. “I must speak with her, Shaan. You don’t understand what’s at stake.”
“Again, it’s Prince to you.”
The urge to cry returned. I couldn’t address him formally. Together we’d both shed our titles. The only time in my life I’d felt whole was with this man. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you.”
Shaan released a bitter laugh and moved closer. He stopped several paces away. “You’re sorry that youhurtme?”
“I’m sorry I betrayed you. If you’d let me explain—”
“You must truly think me a fool if you believe I want to listen to more of your sugared lies.”
My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. This was the conversation I knew would come and had desperately wanted to avoid. If I were Shaan, I wouldn’t trust me either. But I loved this man hopelessly. Standing here as anger, disgust, and hurt flashed over his eyes made me want to beg for forgiveness, to lie down and never get up again. “The only deception was when I said my father’s aim was for us to get to know each other. You knew that was false, though. He wanted me to get information from you, but you were aware of that.”
