The parasite had possessed little patience for the girl’s tears, but it wasn’t like she could just leave the room, now could she?
Relief was a moderate term to describe what the girl had felt when she learned the next morning that the prince had squandered all his dances on a mystery woman who’d fled at the stroke of midnight.
Jealousy had existed too, souring the girl’s belly and tasting of lemons to the parasite, but at least the mystery woman was gone.
The day had been a whirl of emotion for the pitiful girl, and when she’d learned of the prince’s accidental betrothal to Ellie Payne, the parasite shared her shock and outrage.
The parasite knew from the beginning that Ellie Payne would try to get out of the marriage, but it didn’t take long for this jealous little girl to figure it out as well.
She’d even grown to like Ellie, in whatever way a human could like the woman betrothed to marry the love of her life.
It helped that Ellie wanted out of the marriage, too.
Naïve little girl.
The magic that bound Ellie’s future to the prince’s was ancient (though not quite as ancient as the parasite), and not to be underestimated. There was no getting out of this marriage without the king’s consent, and the parasite had been in proximity to enough fae rulers to know when a male’s mind was beyond being changed.
No, there was only one way out of this predicament.
If the parasite were human, she might have regretted that Ellie Payne had to die.
CHAPTER 29
ELLIE
That night, I dreamed of Evander.
Well, I wished I had dreamed of Evander.
Because at least then I could have blamed it on my subconscious.
The truth was that I lay awake for hours, playing over every conversation we’d had. Every tease, every smirk I could remember. I searched my memory for moments that we’d touched, though I spent most of my time reliving how long Evander had held my hand in the forest.
Other than that and the time in the workshop, most of the times we’d touched had been constrained to when my life depended on it.
Though I supposed Evander hadn’t needed to risk his life the day of the first trial.
He could have simply let go of my wrists as we traversed the prism.
No one had forced him to promise that he wouldn’t drop me.
In fact, he could have let me suffocate in my own refusal.
As far as I knew, just because one person refused to go through with a bargain didn’t mean that the other suffered for it. Not magically, at least.
But he had risked his life anyway. He’d made a vow to me, just so I would feel safe enough to step off that platform. Just so I wouldn’t kill myself from fear.
So, in a way, maybe it had meant something, the flirtatious remarks and the winks and the grins that seemed to overtake his entire face…
I kept the key to my room underneath my pillow, and my fingers kept finding it, twiddling with it. Like it were some sort of lavish gift—an emerald necklace or an opal ring, and not just a stupid key.
But I would have taken the key over a fine piece of jewelry any day, so maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all. It allowed me to roam freely through the castle, and I wasn’t sure what Evander had said to his father to convince him to let me have it. But I was grateful all the same.
Not long after Evander left, the click of the key in the lock signaled Imogen’s arrival. I still kept my door locked when I was inside my quarters, though. I didn’t exactly trust the king to employ the palace guard based on how trustworthy they were around females. Imogen’s timing had me wondering whether she’d been lurking around the corner, watching my door to make sure Evander returned me to my quarters at a decent hour.
Still, I was glad to see her. I was dying to explore the castle, but I’d only ever been escorted from room to room, and Blaise liked to take different paths every time—something about keeping things interesting.
Imogen hadn’t exactly looked pleased about the idea of me wandering the castle without an escort, but she’d drawn a map for me just the same.
Granted, her script had been almost impossible to decipher, given the way she left so little space between her characters that they practically ran together.
But I’d made it all the way to the library and back to my rooms without getting lost, so I supposed the map was functional.
Now, as I took another glance at the map, I couldn’t help but notice that Imogen had failed to label Evander’s quarters.
Not that I was searching for them.
Without my permission, my mind wandered back to our walk. How he’d stepped right in front of me, so close that I could have kissed him if I’d wanted to.
I told myself I hadn’t wanted to.
But then I had to shake my head and remind myself that it hadn’t been real. Prince Evander, heir to the Throne of Dwellen, had told me himself that he was well practiced in wooing women. That his frequent dalliances had meant little to him. Recently women had been a means to numb his pain. And before that, even worse, his boredom, since he couldn’t think of anything better to do with his immortality and riches.
I rolled my eyes, agitated now. Evander might have shown me his softer side; he might have opened up to me about his brother, but that didn’t make him any less of a spoiled brat.
And that was the worst part. I didn’t want him to be a spoiled brat.
There was a time when I had. I had wanted very much for him to be every vile, annoying, self-absorbed inch of his reputation. It had been easier to hate him then. Easier to hate this life for being so different than how I’d imagined my future.
