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Prince Thorne didn’t answer for a long moment. “I will need to feed, and I prefer to do so with her.”
He wanted me so he could feed? The anger nearly choked me, but it was tinged with something akin to . . . to disappointment? Which made no sense. Furious, I turned away from the Prince, fully intending on leaving the dining hall. I was done with this absurdity.
“You asked if I was cruel.” Prince Thorne spoke again, focusing on the Baron. “I ask the same question of you. Are you cruel?”
I stopped, turning back to the Prince. He wouldn’t . . .
“I’m sorry?” Claude stood, planting his hands on the table. “I’m not sure why you would ask that question of me.”
“You’re not?” Prince Thorne spoke softly, sending a chill through me. “You claim that she is most valued and yet you have treated her with such reckless disregard. You sent her to my quarters, apparently either too forgetful or too intoxicated to inform me of her arrival. She could’ve been killed.”
“But I wasn’t,” I hissed. “Obviously.”
Prince Thorne ignored me. “Not only that, she has been treated cruelly. When I saw her earlier, she was bruised.”
My head jerked back. “I was not bruised.”
The Prince eyed me. “I do enjoy your lies.”
Claude turned stiffly toward me. “What is he speaking of?”
“Nothing— ”
“Her wrist was bruised,” Prince Thorne interrupted. “She said she got it while gardening.”
“I did.” I shot him a glare that should’ve set him afire.
He was unfazed. “It was such a strange bruise to obtain while gardening, considering it clearly resembled fingerprints.”
“What happened, Lis?” Claude asked, pressing his hands flat to the table.
I lifted my chin. “As I said, nothing.”
Claude’s jaw hardened as he leaned forward. “Hyhborn cannot lie, butcaelestiasand mortals can. I want the truth.”
“I’m not saying he is.” The tips of my ears burning, I crossed my arms. “I didn’t even realize I was bruised, so I assumed it happened while I was gardening.”
“Huh.” Prince Thorne inclined his head. “I didn’t know plants had fingers and were able to grab someone hard enough to leave a bruise.”
“No one asked you for your opinion,” I retorted.
Slowly, the Prince turned his gaze upon me.
“Lis,”Claude hissed this time. “You know better.”
I did.
I did know better as I stared at the Prince of Vytrus, my heart slamming against my ribs. I’d overstepped, more than once, but this time, I’d belly-flopped over that line. I froze. Tiny hairs lifted along the nape of my neck as the air thickened and the flames stilled. Thatmouthof mine had surely gotten me in trouble this time.
But Prince Thorne . . . hesmiled.
My stomach dipped.
The smile he bestowed was not tight or cold. It was wide and real, showing a hint of teeth and softening the icy, unreal beauty of his features.
“She meant no offense. That I can assure you,” Claude promised, and I almost laughed at the irony of him having to defend me. “She sometimes speaks passionately and . . . without thinking.”
“No offense taken.” The blue of the Prince’s eyes had brightened once more. “Quite the opposite, to be honest.”
