Page 26 of A Fragile Enchantment

“What do you mean?”

Even in the dark, she could see the blush unfurling over the bridge of his nose. “What do you think I mean?”

Oh.Oh.The party raged on just on the other side of the foggy glass door, but she supposed, in a moment of passion, a secluded balcony like this would serve well enough for lovers hoping to steal just a few moments away from the prying eyes of the court. Anyone who caught the two of them alone here would assume they’d arranged some sort of tryst. Would that the floor give way beneath her feet—anythingto escape the horrible awkwardness settling over them.

“Not that I concern myself with gossip,” he continued, clearly eager to move on, “but associating with me will only cause you trouble.”

The very thought of gossip doused any good cheer she’d recovered. “Maybe you should,” she said quietly. “Infanta Rosa’s father is not pleased with you, and he is not the only one.”

That horrid brother of his.

Remembering the utter disgust in that woman’s voice made her feel hot all over again, and all the desserts she’d eaten sat like stones in her gut. It shouldn’t have mattered to her—not when she’d been just as insolent to him. She did not evenlikeKit. She could conjure a thousand justifications for why he might have earned high society’s ill opinion: his prickly demeanor, his scowling countenance, his abhorrent manners. But he was their prince. And after all the heckling she’d endured tonight, she could understand now why he held the peerage in such disdain.

A pit of vipers, indeed.

He scoffed, puffing absently on his pipe. “I’m aware.”

“It really doesn’t bother you?”

“No. I’ve never cared what other people thought of me. I have no desire to twist myself into knots to please people I don’t even respect.” He stared out over the lawn below them, a preoccupied frown notched in his brow. Frustration crept into his voice. “It bothers Sinclair and my brother, though. And I can tell it bothers you.”

“Yes. It bothers me to be hated and ridiculed for what I am.”

Her own vulnerability embarrassed her. Niamh bowed her head, letting her hair fall to shroud her face, but she could feel him watching her with a searching intensity. When she dared look up again, the glint of recognition in his eyes warmed her from the inside, out. It said,You and I are the same.

“They’re narrow-minded fools, all of them. They aren’t worth your tears,” he said. “You’ll never meet their standards, nor should you want to. You’re too honest for your own good—and too nice, for that matter.”

A smile slowly tugged at her lips. “Your Highness, was that acompliment?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he huffed, but his irritation fizzledout as quickly as it’d flared. “I admit I’m surprised that you’ve stayed this long. Whyhaveyou stayed?”

“The same reason everyone else has. To give my family a better life.” The thought of them, alone in that cottage, made her feel heavy and homesick. First thing tomorrow morning, she’d write to them and send back a portion of her first payment. She prayed that would ease at least some of the guilt. “There is very little left for us in Machland. Once I finish this job, I’ll have enough money to open a shop and bring my mother and grandmother here.”

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean?”

“What, no balls and suitors?” he asked skeptically. “You hardly factor into this plan of yours.”

Self-consciously, she tucked the streak of white hair behind her ear. Once she ensured her family was taken care of for the rest of their lives, she hardly knew what she’d do with herself. But it wouldn’t do to get her hopes up—to even imagine more was possible. Dreaming of all the things she might have would only make it harder when her health inevitably declined. Tonight had shown her balls were not for her, and she had no need for suitors. She’d only bring suffering to any fool who fell in love with her. As much as she yearned to be cared for, she was not that selfish. No good came from loving fragile things.

“The work is reward enough for me,” she said.

He did not look entirely convinced. “You’re a strange girl.”

“You’re a bit strange yourself, Your Highness.” She smiled softly when he scowled. “At any rate, I suspect I’ll have my fill of parties soon enough. How can I hope for more?”

His shoulders tightened. “Right.”

“I see you’re not looking forward to the rest of the Season.”

“No. I hate this place. I never wanted to come back.”

Niamh tried to keep the surprise off her face. Had he finallygiven up holding her at a distance? Or was this like one of her Jaillean fairy tales, where this spell woven by their shared pain would break as soon as midnight struck? It hardly mattered now. She would hold on to this connection between them for as long as it lasted.

“You were not really on grand tour these past few years,” she said after a moment, “were you?”

He took a long drag from his pipe. As he exhaled, the smoke slipped past his lips and rose in a stark, gray line. “Everyone knows that. Ask anyone in that room, and they’ll gladly tell you the whole story.”