“Me too,” he said, absentmindedly glancing back at Dinah.

I bit my lip, unsure of whether I was overstepping. But then again, I supposed he’d been overstepping when he’d whooshed in to rescue me from a night of pining after Evander. And he had made me feel better. “I’m sure it’s difficult to move on after something like that. There must be a lot of guilt surrounding any feelings you might develop for someone else. Especially for someone who was fortunate enough to marry for love.”

Fin scoffed. “Fortunate? Is that what you’d call it?”

I swallowed. Yes, I’d definitely overstepped. But still. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend.”

He glanced down at me, his eyes softening, then he broke into a sad smile. “You can go ahead and argue your point if you wish, but I assure you, you’re not fooling me.”

“Fooling you?”

“Into thinking I should listen to you because you have experience being betrothed to someone you don’t love. Trust me, it took about three seconds of the prince waltzing with that female and half a glance at your face to know otherwise.”

My stomach tightened, and my mouth went dry, irritation buzzing at my cheeks. “One might say it’s even worse this way. To marry for love, when your betrothed is simply marrying for duty. What am I supposed to do?” My throat constricted, a painful bulb forming around my throat. The next few words I had to push out. “Sit around and pine after him as he takes his mistresses to bed? Throw myself at him, fully aware I’m simply one of many?” And then the true reason. “Love him, while the whole time, he’s in love with someone else?”

My eyes stung, and Fin released my hand, bringing his to my cheek and brushing my skin with his thumb, catching a tear beneath his touch.

I couldn’t help but glance over at Evander, who was now dancing with another woman…with…the Queen of Naenden.

“For what it’s worth,” Fin said, catching my attention once more, “my brother’s a monster, and my sister-in-law won him over in the end. I’d say Evander’s not nearly as far gone.”

I sighed a smile at him. “This is pretty pitiful, you know. The both of us pouring our hearts out to complete strangers.”

“Miss Payne,” Fin said with faux offense, clutching his chest. “And I thought you said we were friends.”

I let out a laugh-sob, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“For what it’s worth,” I whispered, “I think Dinah would understand if you told her you needed time.”

Fin flinched, and for a moment I thought I’d offended him, but then he pulled away, and I found it was a hand on his shoulder that had startled him.

Evander leveled a sickeningly forced grin at Fin, one that didn’t even attempt to meet his eyes. “One more song and I might be tempted to take offense,” he said, his voice lighthearted enough, though I could sense the tension behind it.

“And I’d never dare risking such a thing,” Fin said, tapping Evander on the back.

Fin winked at me before he bowed and walked away.

CHAPTER 42

EVANDER

It was as if all the thoughts that make a horrible person—well, horrible—were all competing for first place in my mind.

There was the obvious one, of course. The classic go-to.

The fae prince who’d stolen every single one of Ellie’s dances that night was irrefutably uglier than me.

Okay, maybe not. But he was shorter than me.

Maybe.

By at least an inch from the looks of it.

If he’d managed to keep his wife alive, then perhaps he wouldn’t feel the need to seek comfort in Ellie.

Okay, that was the truly despicable one—the thought I felt bad about the instant it stroked my mind, threatening to fester there.

Honestly, though. What was he doing dancing so publicly with a woman hardly a year after his wife’s death? At the hands of his brother, who currently sulked in the corner, no less.

Really, it was my responsibility as Ellie’s friend to put a stop to it. If memory served me correctly, Kiran, the King of Naenden, had crushed the windpipe of Fin’s late wife before reducing her to a pile of ash.

The story that had made its way north to Dwellen was that Prince Fin’s bride, Ophelia, had plotted against him, attempting to seduce Kiran into both her bed and her schemes to assassinate the prince.

That was why he’d killed her. Or so he said.

But who was I to assume he’d told the truth, when he very well could possess an innate jealousy over his brother’s lovers?

I chose to forget my species’ inherent inability to lie. It was more convenient that way.

Just by allowing this to continue, by allowing Prince Fin to spin Ellie around like she was a marionette, I was practically complicit in Ellie’s untimely demise. Her fiery murder.

What kind of friend would I be if I stood aside and did nothing?

“Your betrothed looks like she’s having all the fun, doesn’t she?” an amused voice asked.

I turned, then practically jumped, gobbling up my shock too late.

My surprise quickly warped into mortification.

The Queen of Naenden stood before me, her frame tiny and delicate and not at all matching her face. The scars that cut across her cheeks. The patches of mismatched skin. And most shocking of all, the pinkish empty eye socket that should have mirrored a pretty hazel eye.

“Your Majesty,” I said, clearing my throat. “I apologize. I didn’t see you standing there.”

“You don’t allow others to sneak up on you often,” she said, and I wondered whether that was a question.

I shook my head. “No. No, not usually. But it’s been a long night, and I’ve been…distracted.”

“By your betrothed dancing the night away with my brother-in-law.”

My smile flattened, as hard as I tried to tug it upward on the edges. I had to remind myself that Queen Asha of Naenden didn’t grow up in a royal court. If a member of the nobility used that sort of direct language, it was almost always with the intention of being disarming. Coming from a human raised in an impoverished neighborhood in Meranthi?

The queen was probably just blunt.

“Our marriage is arranged,” I said. “There is little room for jealousy. That would require a sense of possession, and as I don’t claim to own her heart, and I don’t believe in owning her person, I have little claim to the emotion.”

My jaw almost dropped, and I tried to remember the words just as they’d come out of my mouth, because it was probably the most eloquent thing I’d ever said.

“Mmmm...” she said, her crooked smile wry. “A pretty male with pretty words.”