Actually, Evander’s quarters were far from extravagant, which surprised me. Given his reputation with women, I had expected his dining room to be dripping with wealth. After all, wasn’t dinner where seduction usually began? Although now that I considered it, I wasn’t sure that Evander had to use dates in his arsenal of tactics. The thought irritated me, and between that unpleasant realization and my concern over what had transpired when Imogen had gone to tell Evander of my refusal, I found myself in quite the ill mood by the time Imogen escorted me to the dining room.
The walls were a subdued sage green. The dining table was carved not of ivory, but ivory-painted wood. Its carving was intricate and fine, of course. But it was what I would have expected to see in a nobleman’s dining room, not a prince’s.
Simple but elegant clay plates lined the table, a pleasing aesthetic that was actually quite tasteful. Some might even say modern.
Huh.
Imogen escorted me to my seat, and I stood behind the chair waiting for the prince.
He arrived not a moment later, waving a hand at me. “Oh, you don’t have to bother with those formalities. They’re all cumbersome in their own way, and a waste of time.”
“Like having to say Prince Evander?” I asked, calling back to his comment just before our Trials.
“So many syllables,” he agreed.
I sat and he joined me, though Imogen stood just behind me, hovering like a twitching shadow cast by a dying flame. My stomach twisted, reminding me of how uncomfortable she might be if Evander had been unkind, or worse, to her earlier.
“You don’t have to stay, Imogen,” I said, smiling gently. “You deserve the evening off, anyway.”
Imogen blinked and shot a nervous glance in the prince’s direction. Then she leaned over and whispered in my ear. “But it’s improper.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to be reassuring. Though I wasn’t convinced Evander hadn’t done something to deserve Imogen’s nervous behavior, I also figured her timid nature and position of employment gave him greater power over her than it did me.
“But—”
“You have the evening off. Go spend it in town, or on something fun,” Evander offered.
Imogen gulped, but she nodded and scampered off.
When I turned back to the prince, he was eyeing me mischievously. “You wanted to be alone with me, didn’t you?”
“Not particularly. I simply didn’t want Imogen to have to suffer in your presence.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What? Imogen? Suffer? I think she rather enjoys my company.”
Something twisted in my gut, and as I unraveled my napkin, my silverware crashed against the table. “Not every woman desires your advances, you know. To assume such… It doesn’t give you the right to…” I stumbled over my words, too angry to form coherent sentences.
He narrowed his brow, a look of genuine concern spreading across his face. “To do what?”
I could only manage a whisper. “To take advantage of your servants. You’re in a position of authority, you know. Even if she makes it appear as though she welcomes your advances, that doesn’t mean she does. There’s a pressure that she feels—”
“Ellie,” Evander said, blanching as he touched my hand. “By Alondria, please don’t finish that sentence. Nothing happened between me and Imogen. Unless you count me making myself look like a fool for being too nervous to ask you to dinner myself lest you chuck a glass slipper at me or something.”
I jerked my hand away, the phantom brush of his touch still warm on my skin. “I—nothing happened with Imogen?”
“No. Why did you think something did?”
Out of habit, I searched his face for signs of a lie. Until I remembered that he was fae. He couldn’t lie. “Because she…” I fumbled over my words, realizing only now how many leaps I had taken to come to my conclusion. My conclusion that had been false. “Well, she seemed off after talking with you. And when I asked her about it, she said she didn’t want to talk about it. And then your comment about her enjoying your company made me think…”
“Go on,” Evander said, clearly suppressing a grin as he pressed his lips together.
I scowled at him. “I won’t have you make me say it and embarrass myself.”
He dabbed his mouth with his napkin, despite the fact we hadn’t begun eating yet. “It appears it’s too late for that now, doesn’t it?”
I thought to bite back at him, the mortification of my poorly placed accusations stinging at my cheeks and threatening to prod me into lashing out. But then I remembered how allowing my tongue to loosen at dinner with the king and queen had ended—with the queen despising me, and for good cause. I sighed. “You’re right. She was probably upset about something else entirely.”
Evander shrugged and traced the patterns on the wooden table with his fingers, avoiding my eyes.
My jaw dropped. “You do think she was upset over you, don’t you?”
Evander threw his hands up. “I open my mouth, and you accuse me of being an arrogant pig. I keep it shut, and you come to the same conclusion.”
I rubbed my forehead. Of course. If Imogen had a crush on Evander, it would upset her that he was inviting me to a private dinner. And that I had accepted it. And that she had been forced to deliver the invitation herself.
Evander sighed. “I didn’t pick up on it until I saw how red her face was when I was flirting with you earlier. Had I known, I wouldn’t have asked her to deliver the message. And I certainly wouldn’t have made a scene about inviting you to dinner in front of her.”
“It seems a bit unnecessary for a prince to change his actions just to spare the feelings of a servant.”
Evander scoffed, placing his elbow upon the table and tucking his chin into his palm. “You don’t believe that. You just don’t want to admit that I can be a nice person.”
I smiled softly. Apologetically. It was true. I was surprised that Evander considered anyone’s feelings other than his own. Especially those whom I would have assumed he thought beneath him. He hadn’t even offered an explanation as to why Imogen had been upset. Why? To save her from embarrassment? That was a kindness I didn’t expect from civilized company, much less the careless prince.
But hadn’t he already shown me that he cared? After all, during the first trial he’d gone to great lengths to assuage my fears. He’d also kept me from plummeting to my death, I supposed.
Mercifully, the cook entered not long after with a serving cart, from which he produced two large, steaming plates and set them before us.
Lobster.
