I crossed my arms as if I could smother the phantom warmth of his hands on my waist if I just squeezed myself hard enough. “Oh, I’m sure there’s a reason you fae are cursed with the inability to lie. You were probably lying in excess before some greater force punished you all for it. It’s not as if you lack the skills to deceive. In fact, fae probably have more talent in that area than humans.”
“Only of necessity, of course,” he said. “I needed to know that you weren’t the type to play hard to get. That you weren’t secretly delighted with our misunderstanding.”
I tried to ignore the prick of hurt pride that punctured my gut at the admission that the prince hadn’t actually wanted me. Instead, I thought back to what he had said, about making sure I was being honest about not desiring him. Had his entire ruse of trying to seduce me really been to make sure I really didn’t want to be married to him?
He couldn’t be lying. That wasn’t possible for the fae. But it did reinforce the lessons that my father had taught me from a young age. The fae will go to great lengths to omit the truth, or give you just a sliver of it. That way, nothing they say is an outright lie. Never mistake such for the full truth.
“And what good does that do you, to be so sure I don’t secretly want you? Surely you’re not so bored as to find such a thing interesting,” I said, picking at my fingernails in distaste.
He grinned, though his eyes didn’t partake. That didn’t make it any less disarming. “Because, my dearly betrothed, I needed to be sure that you and I are on the same team.”
“Did tricking me into pledging my marriage to you not do that already?”
“Not quite,” he said. “Actually, I’d like for you to help me get out of it.”
This caught me off guard, though I wasn’t sure why. Of course the prince would want out of the bargain, possibly even more desperately than I did. For me, the problem with the bargain was that I had lost my dream. That thrill of the feeling of hard-earned coin in my hand. That rush. As a princess, I’d likely not be allowed to do such menial tasks as glassblowing. Instead, I’d be forced into the company of the fae nobility, whom I wasn’t exactly eager to befriend.
But for the prince, he’d lost the chance to marry a girl he loved. Well, a girl he thought he loved; I still wasn’t ever going to be convinced it was possible to truly fall in love with someone after meeting for only a handful of hours. What my parents had was love.
What the prince had for this woman was probably just an accelerated form of lust. Even so, in his mind, he thought he was in love. And from the little I knew about love, even the perception of it could make one desperate.
But I had dreamed of love, too, hadn’t I? My parents weren’t like our neighbors, trying to shove their daughter into marriage like it was a business transaction. Maybe that was why they’d never discouraged me from my ambitions. Because a woman who had her own money could choose to marry for love. That was what my parents had done. Except in their case, they’d done so without means. And they had instilled in me the importance of doing the same.
But now, if the prince and I found no way to break the bargain, any hopes of marrying a man for the sake of affection would be swept away. For though I was sure the Crown would tolerate a host of the prince’s mistresses, there would be a pair of heads to pay should I ever be caught with a man in my bed.
I might not have wasted my life away dreaming of love, but now that the possibility had escaped my grasp, I found myself clutching at it.
I swallowed, finding I’d rather singe off my prints with my blowtorch than say what I was about to say. “It seems we’re partners then. Actually, I’ve been thinking—”
“Great,” he said, clapping his hands together as he sat up. “In fact, I already have an idea. You see, my—”
“Father,” I said, crossing my arms.
“By Alondria, aren’t you clever?” He beamed, actually beamed, and I resented the way the air in my lungs went thin at the sight of it. “You know, maybe we should get married after all. You’re already finishing my sentences.”
“That’s only because you rudely interrupted me. Otherwise, I would have already said it.”
“Fine, fine. Tell me your plan, Miss Payne.”
I straightened my back and clasped my hands together in front of me. “Your bargain had to be cosigned by your father, the king.”
The prince rubbed his temples. “Oh, and how I begged for him to sign it. To bless our marriage. Looking back, he would’ve never agreed to something so…” He fumbled for the right word.
“Rash?” I offered.
The prince flashed a grin. “Spontaneous. He never would have agreed to something so spontaneous, unless it was some sick way of teaching me a lesson. But there’s a reason I’m not technically supposed to enter a bargain without a cosigner.”
“I can’t imagine why that would be.”
“And now who’s interrupting?”
I flitted my hand at him. “Go on.”
“In fae society, betrothals are binding, as we consider them a bargain. I understand that humans may propose and go on to end the relationship without much consequence,” he said.
I considered that, biting my lip. “Well, there is the matter of the ring. I suppose that’s our way of saying that we mean it. Pouring a lot of money into it, I mean.”
He snickered. “I assure you, in the case of a failed engagement, the man will pawn the ring off or recycle it for the next woman.”
“Unless the woman keeps it,” I countered.
“And you claim that the fae are cruel.”
“You were saying?”
“As my father is the cosigner, he is the only one who can annul the bargain.”
So there it was: confirmation that the solution to our betrothal truly did lie with the king. Hope rose in my chest, but I tried to dampen it, lest I find myself disappointed. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the can’t-lie-can’t-break-a-bargain-curse?”
“Oh, not nearly as much as we would like for it to,” he said, leaning against the bedpost. “If I had it my way, I would be free to lie as I wished.”
I raised a brow. “So you wouldn’t have to admit to your mistresses that they’re not as unique to receiving your attention as they might think?”
He pointed a knowing finger at me. “My thoughts exactly.”
“If your father has the power to reverse the bargain, why are you sitting here talking to me instead of him?”
He let out a wry laugh, one that sent tingles across the back of my neck. “If I’m the one to ask my father to reverse it, he’ll simply laugh in my face and force us to marry tomorrow.”
