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“He said nothing,” Saga interjected.
“Yes, he did,” my tone lowered in a warning.
Roar and I hadn’t known one another long, but he’d taken me in and promised to see me to safety if I did this one thing for him. It had been more than most people had done for me in life. And most importantly, we were both lying to the king. We were together in this, and I’d defend the Warden of the West against any harm or slander that I could. “Why would you speak about my fiancé like that, Prince Vale?”
If fae could see through another fae, I felt certain that the prince was trying to do so at that moment. His stare was so intense, so penetrating, that goosebumps raised on my arms. I thanked the Fates that my long sleeves hid them.
“I have my reasons, Lady Neve, and I don’t have to share them with you.” With that, he rounded us and strode down the hallway.
Once he was out of earshot, Saga let out an annoyed huff. “I love my brother, but he can be a beast at times. I’m sorry that he said that about the warden. As you know, they aren’t friends, but still, it was uncalled for.”
“What happened between them?” I asked, because the hate in Prince Vale’s eyes had been hot but that didn’t make sense.
I knew Roar’s side and understood why he’d be furious with the prince, but what would make the prince despise Roar? The former had betrayed the latter, not the other way around. Had something happened before that? After?
There had to be more.
“As children, the adult lords and weapons masters pitted them against one another in rings and such, so they were never friends,” Saga started. “But after they fought in the southlands, it grew worse. From there, their relationship deteriorated. Whenever Roar is at court, the pair of them—Rhistel too, honestly—butt heads. Hating your fiancé is one of the few things my older brothers can agree on, but I could not tell you why they despise him.”
“Hmmm.”
“We should get you back to your room.” Saga spoke softly. “I’ve been gone for hours, and I’m sure Mother wants to see me. I may not be taking part in the Courting Festival, but she still wants me to be present, beautiful, and charming.”
That struck at another question. “So you’re betrothed?”
“Since I turned eighteen.”
“To whom?”
The princess let out a long breath. “Vidar Virtoris.”
My lips parted in surprise. “Sayyida’s brother?”
“He’s the heir to the Virtoris fleet, the castle, everything. Father wanted a stable alliance with a means of transporting soldiers.”
Her tone had soured, and though I was dying to ask why, I didn’t. I’d seen the stolen glances between Saga and Sayyida that night and saw how the pair gravitated toward one another. After a few hours with them, I guessed they felt something for each other. In fae culture, people married whomever they liked, but I suspected royal princesses and high ladies played by different rules.
“Come,” Saga said, and together we walked to my door.
When we got there, I turned to face her. “I had fun. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Inviting?”
“Forcing?” I teased.
I might have been out of my element and terrified I’d let something slip, but really most of the night had been wonderful.
Saga laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
She left, and I waited until she turned the corner before I opened the door.
Roar and Clemencia sat in the antechamber. The warden looked tense, and at my entry, my lady-in-waiting leapt up. “I hope everything went well without me!”
“It did, Clemencia. There was nothing you could have done.” My assurance seemed to wash over her slowly, lowering her shoulders, softening her face.
Finally, she nodded. “Would you like me to draw you a bath, my lady?”
