Chapter Seventeen

A throbbing ache came from my shoulder. “Where am I?” I mumbled, trying to blink and focus on my surroundings. I was in an unfamiliar room, resting on a large stuffed mattress with a flowered quilt tucked around my lap. Across the room were a wood-burning stove, kettle, table, and two chairs. Next to the washbasin was a shelf with a few table servings, cups, plates, and a glass jar that held the silverware. Three shuttered windows took up a large portion of the walls, and an old rag rug covered the floor. Dried herbs hung from the rafters, keeping a pleasant aroma in the cottage when I expected it to smell musty. As cute and organized as the cottage was, it was obvious it had been abandoned, for there were no personal effects in the room.

Xander sat on the bed next to me, pressing a cloth to my shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. The arrow didn’t damage any major muscles,” he said.

The pain had subsided to a dull ache. While I was passed out, he had removed the arrowhead, cleaned it with hot water, and bandaged the wound. My new dress was destroyed, the shoulder torn and the sleeve gone, but I was still modestly covered. He had used strips of my skirt as bandages.

I sighed wearily as another beautiful dress was unnecessarily destroyed. Looking up at Xander, I realized how crystal clear he was and I inhaled deeply, reaching for the veil—that was gone.

“It got in the way,” Xander answered, his face emotionless and hard to read.

“No, it didn’t,” I argued. “It was only a few inches long.

“Okay, well, maybe I was tired of you lying to me.”

“Lying to you?”

“I knew the day you served me in my tent who you were.” Xander lifted my bandaged wrist. “What are the odds that two different women would have the same injury in the same place? Not to mention I recognized my mother’s pin on your cloak.”

“And yet you demanded I come back to serve you dinner. Are you mad? Weren’t you worried I was going to poison you? I seem to recall that conversation as well.”

His lip twitched. Was it a hint of a smile? “Are you going to poison me?”

“Depends,” I said.

“On what?” He stilled.

“How irritating you continue to be.”

“Woman, if you rate whether a person should be poisoned based on how irritating they are, I fear there will be no men left in the kingdom.” He barked out a laugh.

I snorted, and his eyes widened in disbelief. Maybe real ladies didn’t snort? Well, I wasn’t a lady. “Then maybe I would be doing your kingdom a favor. Women tend to not be so rash in their ways or thinking.”

“Women can be just as irritating.” His eyes narrowed, and he pointed to me. “As for serving dinner, I wanted to see which version of you would show up. And how obedient you were. Turns out not very.”

“Get used to it,” I snapped, then leaned back onto the pillow and waited for the harsh words to follow. How he was angry that I had fooled him, lied to him about who I was, and also disobeyed his order to not be seen by him, a few times.

My reddened cheeks gave him the affirmation he needed.

He sighed dramatically and leaned closer to me. “Why did you come to the wedding celebration that night when I forbade you to?”

“I hadn’t eaten all day and was famished. It seems your staff are not very hospitable.”

“Ah, that’s right. You did say you were just there for the food.”

I nodded.

“You looked beautiful that first night. I didn’t know who you were. I was trapped in the despair of my own doing, and I spotted you hiding in the shadows across the room. Your face glowed with delight and innocence. I was drawn to you and snuck closer just so I could watch your reactions, for here was a woman who didn’t seem to be burdened with darkness. Light spilled forth from you. I was a moth, and you were the flame. Had I only known then who you were.”

It was difficult to swallow at his admission. Waiting for the hammer to drop. Nothing but silence. When the tirade didn’t begin, I searched his eyes and he searched mine. I felt naked without the veil, my true identity revealed. We were truly seeing each other for the first time. Did he have no feelings on the matter? Then I realized how angry he was, because he was silent.

“I’m sorry,” I said coldly, looking away to stare at the wood floor. “For deceiving you.”

It was his turn to sigh. He leaned back so he was parallel to me on the bed, his arms stretched above his head to cradle his neck. “I was a fool to ever give you that order. It’s a good thing I hadn’t seen you before we were married, because my father was right—I would have let your beauty surely dazzle me.” He reached for my chin and brought my eyes up to look into his. He searched my gaze, and I wished I could understand what he was thinking and feeling. Instead I saw a tortured soul.

The heat of his hand on my face made my heart flutter, my breathing ragged, and I realized we were utterly alone. His eyes dropped to my lips, and then his grip tightened and he pushed me roughly away from him.

“You are a witch,” he said angrily. “You bespell me every time I see you, for I have this asinine desire to kiss you… again.”

“That was never my intention. I tried to obey you, but I can’t live behind a mask for the rest of my life.”

“Why not? I do. It’s what protects me from those I hate.” His handsome face turned cruel, and I moved away from him, putting my back to the wall. He laughed. “Oh, now you run away?”

“Did you try to kill me?” I asked suspiciously.

“What?” He was obviously shocked by my accusation.

I swallowed and looked away, trying to keep my tears at bay, hiding my insecurity behind bitterness. “I overheard your discussion with your father in the library. He told you to take care of the inconvenience. You took me into town with your guards and left me, and then someone tried to murder me in the woods. It sounds to me like an elaborate assassination plan if I ever heard one.”

“No, I do not know who shot you.” Xander swallowed and glanced away, but I could read it on his face.

“You lie,” I accused angrily.

His eyes flashed as he gripped my shoulder. “I’m not.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “Instead of heading back to the house.”

“Because it was dark and closer than the manor.”

“Which means if you kill me, no one will find my body,” I surmised.

“Why are you so obsessed with the idea that I’m going to kill you?”

“Aren’t you?” I was pushing his buttons, trying to rile him up. It was easier to deal with him when he was angry. The other side, his softer side, where he gave me warm looks and his hands grazed my skin, drove me crazy. That was the side of Xander I feared the most.

“If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already,” he said simply. “Plus, why bother when we swore a blood oath that as soon as you save my kingdom, you leave. If I kill you, you can’t help. And after all, you saved my mother when you could have let her die. You helped save a village from a troll. I’m inclined to believe you will try and save my kingdom.” Xander crossed the room and sat on the bed next to me. His leg pressed into my thigh, and his nearness made my cheeks burn.

“I… I think we should leave.” The pain from my shoulder was driving me batty, making my thoughts not very coherent. I would probably regret everything I was about to say if we continued talking.

Feeling brave, I slid to the edge of the bed, stood up, and tried to walk to the door, but the floor betrayed me again by moving. I wasn’t going to make it, felt myself falling.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Xander growled as he caught me and carried me back to the bed. The scent of cedar and leather tickled my nose, his pleasant aroma drawing me to him. Ever so gently, I was laid back on the bed, and the barest of fingers brushed my hair across my forehead. “It’s already dark. I’ve stabled my horse for the night. We will be safe until morning.”

Safe. Safe from whom, exactly? There was only one bed, and Xander had already stretched out next to me on top of the quilt, his arms bracing behind his neck and his eyes closed as if to sleep.

“I don’t think you should sleep here.”

“Hush, woman. There’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Xander turned on his side, bringing us even closer together. His amber eyes slowly roamed over my cheeks and then stopped on my lips. I couldn’t breathe. He had sucked all of the air out of the room with his hungry look.

“Oh, I see.” He smiled. “You want to finish what we started the night of our wedding? I could most definitely oblige.”

“No!” I said adamantly. The pain of our sham of a marriage hurt more than the arrow. “If you touch me, I will curse you.” Turning, I buried my head into my pillow and closed my eyes, praying he kept his distance.

Xander’s fingers trailed along my cheek, brushing back my hair behind my ear. “Like you did to Yasmin and Gaven?” He chuckled.

I sucked in my breath at being caught so easily.

He leaned in, his breath tickling along my neck, his voice husky. “For you, I would take that chance.”

It took every single ounce of my willpower to not respond to his touch, not turn and raise my lips to his and kiss him truly. But I dared not, knowing he would throw me away as soon as I saved his kingdom. The kiss would be fleeting, for it was not love. He’d said it himself, he could not love.

Do not fall into temptation, Rosalie. You are stronger than this.

In an uncomfortable silence, we lay next to each other. I was extremely aware of every breath he took, each sigh and every time he shifted on the bed. Neither of us was going to sleep soon, and I almost wished he would kiss me again. Not out of drunken lust or because he was bespelled by my beauty but because he wanted to kiss me—for me.

Anything that would happen now wouldn’t be real, because he didn’t love me. But did I love him? I had to ask myself the question, and it only created more uncertainty. I had feelings for him when I wore the guise of a servant, but when I was his wife, he was absolutely despicable toward me, thus making me despise him. Now the charade was gone, and there was only me—the real me. The daughter of Eville. Only time would tell if the prince could love my inner darkness.

My legs were restless, and I was about to turn over and give in, throw my arms around Xander and kiss him, truly kiss him, and see if he ran away or returned the gesture. I wanted to feel his lips on mine and know what love’s first kiss was all about.

Just when I had gathered my courage to face my husband, I felt the bed dip as he moved.

My body froze, my breath caught in my lungs, and my eyelids squeezed shut as I feigned sleep. But Xander didn’t move closer. Instead, he got out of bed. Immediately a chill came over me as I felt his absence. His footsteps moved away, and I heard the door of the cabin open and close.

Prince Xander had left, taking his chances out in the cold of night rather than with the cold woman in his bed.

I sighed, momentarily relieved and at the same time depressed that he ran away from me.