“Okay, I know playing games is a new concept to you, but trust me, you’ll like it,” I say. “Besides, you don’t just have to flick it to the other side. You have to flick it hard enough that it sails to the other end, but not so hard that it falls off. It’s really about the precision of the—”
Nox flicks his fingers and the triangle goes soaring across the dais, stopping with the tip over the edge just before its weight might have sent it toppling off. “Like that?” he asks, his eyebrow lifted.
I pretend to be agitated that he’s so naturally skilled at my game. It’s easier than revealing that my heart is bursting at the playful smirk that’s spread across his face.
“Okay, so you get the basic rules,” I say. “But the question is: Will you be able to hold your own once there are stakes involved?”
“What kind of stakes?”
I shrug, then place a finger to my chin like I’m thinking, like I haven’t been plotting this for days on end. “Whoever scores earns the right to one truth from their opponent.”
Nox’s pointed ears twitch, and when he speaks, there’s a wariness to his voice that causes my chest to constrict and leaves me wondering if I’ve pushed too far. “It seems like you being human and me being fae puts me at a severe disadvantage.”
I shake my head. “Maybe with the inability to lie thing,” I say, though I still doubt whether he’s actually beholden to the fae curse. “But you’ve only just learned the game and you’re already better than me because of your fae instincts, so I figure that evens the playing field. No doubt you’ll get to ask more of me than I ask of you.”
He cocks his head and crosses his arms, and I try not to notice how his forearms bulge with his sleeves rolled up.
For a moment, I think he’ll refuse, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. My plan to cheer him up hinges on the assumption that Nox’s curiosity about me will motivate him, but what if I’m wrong? What if he couldn’t care less about the girl trapped in the dungeon? What if I’m just another experiment to him and his behavior lately has nothing to do with remorse for putting me in harm’s way and everything to do with however the queen decided to punish him?
“All right,” he says after what feels like a decade of deliberation, and the bars on my chest loosen. “What was it about that prince of yours that had you so smitten with him you went off and got yourself possessed?”
“It’s not your turn,” I half-breathe, half-laugh.
He gestures down at the ball dangling off the edge of the dais. “Did I or did I not just score?”
“That was a practice round,” I insist. “The game doesn’t start until…now.” I flick the faux ball and it slides across the dais and goes flying right off the edge.
Nox catches it and holds it up between his thumb and forefinger, a dangerous grin playing on his face.
He flicks it and scores yet again, then looks at me expectantly.
I place my hands on my hips. “Well, are you going to ask me a question?”
For a moment, his mouth hangs ajar in exasperation, but then he repeats his question. “Your prince—why do you love him?”
A swollen belly, an aching back, and a pile of letters clutched against my chest.
“Andy got me through a difficult time in my life,” I say, and his brow quirks at the nickname I let drop to divert his attention from the follow-up question he might be tempted to ask. I’m not quite ready to expound on what I mean by a difficult time. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready.
Two turns later, Nox scores again. He narrows his gaze and chews on the inside of his mouth before asking, “Did he ever lead you to believe he returned your feelings?”
The answer that comes out of my mouth surprises me; it’s so different from how I would have seen the situation only months ago. For years, I interpreted the unique attention Evander showed me—the way he doted on me with gifts and his time—as a sign of his undying love for me. A love he refused to admit to himself, too distracted by the women he took to his bed to notice. “No,” I say, because it’s true. “Andy loves me like a sister, and the way he’s treated me has always been consistent with that. Ever since I was a little girl. It was me who interpreted his behavior as more than what he intended.”
It’s embarrassing to admit, but as Nox watches me carefully, I can’t say I feel ashamed. “Good,” he says.
“Good?”
“Just figured it would have been creepy if he watched you grow up since you were practically a baby, then started coming on to you.”
A dark kitchen and the scent of grime. The slice of scissors to a lock of hair. A man who looks at me like I’m not a child, though I am.
Nox says something, but he has to repeat it for me to process it. “If he loves you like a sister, why’d he lock you up?”
I frown and open my mouth to answer, but stop myself just before the words come spilling out. “You’re going to have to score again if you want the privilege of another question.” This time, my shot lands right where I intended it. “How did you come to work for the queen?”
Nox takes the paper ball from the edges and starts running it over the backs of his fingers. “She took me from my home when I was a child. Apparently, she had a son once and something about me reminded her of him.”
My mouth goes dry. I don’t know what I’d been expecting him to say. Maybe that she’d recruited him for his talent with magic. Perhaps even that he’d been compelled into the queen’s service. Never did I imagine the queen had forced Nox into her family. That she’d taken him as a replacement for her dead son.
“That’s why she calls you Farin,” I say, and his eyes flicker down to the piece in his hand, but it’s not exactly a question.
He knocks the piece across the table and scores. Directly in the same spot he did last time.
Rather than make him repeat his question, I just say, “Andy still loves me. But he’s the heir to the throne now, and I put his betrothed—well, his wife now—in danger when I didn’t turn myself in. I knew I was infected with a dangerous magic, a magic that had tried to kill Ellie, but I was too afraid of Andy finding out how I felt about him to come forward. Ellie was seriously injured; she could have ended up dead. And Andy loves her; he sort of had to choose her over me…” I bite my lip, because that’s not quite right. “In a way, I think he was still trying to help me. It’s not like he gave up on me. He was planning to go to the Queen of Naenden to figure out more about sentient magic, about what had possessed me.”
Nox just watches me, a strange glow welling in his pale eyes. “The way you felt about him,” he says before taking a long, hearty drink from his canister, like he’s bracing himself for this part of the conversation.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You said the way you felt about him. Past tense.”
I swallow. “You’re out of questions.”
“It wasn’t a question. Just an observation.”
My throat suddenly goes tight, the strings of my heart go taut. It’s true; I haven’t lingered on thoughts of Evander lately. I’m not sure why I’m so embarrassed by it. It’s a good thing that I’m not pining over a married male, but still…my neck heats, and Nox’s gaze dips to where I’m certain my skin has gone blotchy.
When I flick the paper ball at his face this time, he’s too lost in thought to catch it in time, and it smacks him in the nose.
