This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever had to admit. Worse than the time I told Zosia about my attempt to propose to Lorcan. Worse than the time my father caught me stealing wine from the butler’s locked stores when I was thirteen and going through a rebellious stage.
“He’s not the boy I grew up with, Tovian. It was happening long before his accident. I didn’t want to see it. But nothing has ever disturbed me as much as the day he looked at me and saw someone he desired.”
Tovian scoffs.
“I mean it. It meant he’d lost the cornerstone of his existence.”
“His love for Zosia.”
“Yes.”
“I have seen little evidence of his love for anyone. As for the princess, he outright despises her.”
I suck in a sharp breath, turning away to press a fist to my mouth. She was the one who hated him. Never the other way around. He pursued her relentlessly in his fucked-up, manipulative way. Scared the shit out of Zosia. All she wanted was to be free, and he was a living reminder of the weighty burden she carried.
And I told hershewas in the wrong.
I stumble across the room to a wastebin and deposit the contents of my stomach into it.
A gentle touch between my shoulder blades is almost as upsetting as it is soothing. Tovian gathers my long hair and holds it to the side as I retch.
It feels like a purging.
I would honestly rather not barf in front of my boyfriend mid-argument, but I guess that’s one way to get it all out.
“You okay, Sunshine?” Tovian asks softly.
“Not really.”
I vomit again, straining to expel a string of bile.
“This can’t be good for either of you.”
“They say morning sickness means the pregnancy is healthy.” I spit. I feel disgusting. My teeth feel like they’re wearing a fuzzy sweater. I want water.
“It’s mid-afternoon,” Tovian said.
“Morning sickness is a euphemism. It can happen any time of day. Or all day, in my case.”
“Can I get you some water?”
“Please.”
I sit on the edge of the stage, feet dangling, head aching, while he summons a maid for water. When Tovian returns, it’s with a pinched expression, carrying a small package.
“What’s this?”
“A wedding gift. From Lorcan.”
We stare at it as if it’s a bomb. Neither of us moves to open it.
“I thought I banned him from the premises.”
“You did, Sunshine. He bribed a stable hand to bring it to us.”
Figures. Lorcan never takes no for an answer.
Cautiously, I pick it up.
