Page 52 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
Yet obsession didn’t require niceness. He could’ve kept me at the end of the bed. He could’ve ordered me to crawl here. He didn’t need to stroke my cheek so softly or leave such thorough instructions for looking after me.
I clenched my jaw and met Celestine’s gaze. “So he killed a man for a few words.” I wrinkled my nose like I was as disgusted by the fact as I should’ve been. “He’s an evil monster.”
She huffed a laugh, but the amusement on her face was cold, edged with frost like my shoes had been. “Sepher is my brother in all but blood. Speaking ill of him is speaking ill of my judgement and of someone I love.” Her cup clicked against the saucer as she placed it on the table. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Despite her frailty, there was steel at Celestine’s core.
I held her gaze as long as I could, looking for some sign that she’d been intimidated or tricked into defending him.
But no. None. And I’d seen no hint of it before.
Somehow, Sepher had inspired genuine loyalty in Celestine. The others I could understand—a lot of the folk here came because they weren’t welcome elsewhere in Elfhame because of their inhuman appearance. They stayed for the good time that came from living under a prince’s roof.
But Celestine?
She would’ve been welcomed in the capital city. She wasn’t forced to live here. And she seemed level-headed. Clever. Kind… albeit with an odd fae perspective on what constituted kindness.
Yet she was as loyal to Sepher as he was to her… as I’d been to my sister. When he said she was a sister to him, it wasn’t one-sided.
I sipped my tea, shaken by the depth of feeling I’d heard in her voice… and the answering depth of feeling in my own heart.
* * *
Sepher stayed holedup in his meeting all day, and I slept in Celestine’s rooms. I say “slept”—it was a light, fitful sleep, prickled with the constant anticipation of the prince arriving to take me back to his suite.
He never came.
In the morning, she let me use her shower and lent me a gown from her wardrobe. It fastened with ties, so it didn’t matter than we were different sizes. Well, width-wise, anyway—its hem pooled around my feet, comically long.
Yet I struggled to laugh at the fact.
As we ate breakfast, I kept smoothing the light silk and glancing at the door. Would he like this dress? Pale blue, fading into pink at the hem with glittering motes of gold. It was like the rising sun catching in drifting dust or pollen.
The knock at the door had me bolting upright, heart hitching.
When Sepher entered, it was with no crown and shadows under his eyes. But they fixed on me at once as he strode to the breakfast table. “You look well, pet.” He scooped a pastry off the platter and flashed Celestine a smile before popping it in his mouth whole. I wasn’t sure if he even chewed before he swallowed and brushed a crumb off his lip. “Thank you for looking after her.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Though I’m not sure about the dress.” He toed the hem and arched one eyebrow.
The criticism spiked in me, especially when she’d done him (and me) a favour. I scowled up at him and let my coffee cup clatter on the saucer. “Well, you didn’t leave anything else for me to wear, did you?”
Instead of scowling right back or smirking, he raised his eyebrows and chuckled.
I wasn’t sure which was worse—an angry Sepher or an amused one.
No. I did. The amused one. Definitely.
I’d grown used to the angry prince, the cruel prince. I knew how to handle him. I gained sustenance from him. His irritation kept me going through any challenge he threw at me.
But this?
“Now, now.” He patted my shoulder, like he was patronising a small child. “It’s sweet that you’re jumping to Celestine’s defence, but let’s not leap to getting pissed off at each other today, hmm?” He canted his head, hand staying on my shoulder, thumb stroking the back of my neck.
The hairs there rose.
“Especially not when I have a little treat lined up for you. Come.” With a self-satisfied smile, he mussed Celestine’s hair and stole another pastry before stalking out.
I swapped a look with Celestine, silently asking if she knew what was going on.
Shaking her head, she shrugged.
