But my eyes dip behind Dad, to a clock across the room. It’s past 1A.M.
Fuck. I let this whole event go long enough without doing something unforgivably unsettling, but I’ve been too busy wallowing.
“Fine,” I say between clenched teeth, giving a sweet smile. “Consider my stake claimed.”
I grab Kris and haul him away with me before Dad can protest.
Kris frowns. “Are you really going to—”
“God no. It’s just time to save Iris.”
“Ah. You escort her away, I’ll cover for you both?”
Our usual play. But—
“Nah,” I hear myself say. “You take her. Tell her howperfectshe looks.”
“Bite me.”
“I think you mean biteher.”
“I—what?”
I rub the skin over my nose. “Halloween. Vampires. Werebunnies. It’s where my head went. Let’s go.”
Kris laughs, confused, as I drag us across the room.
A member of House Luminaria is fawning over Iris while giving furtive, distrustful glances at the Halloween prince.
I lurch between the Luminaria duke and Hex.
“We have bacon-wrapped dates,” I say to the duke, and Ihearthe hardness in my voice, but I can’t figure how to stop it, and it sounds mildly hilarious to saybacon-wrapped dateswith the same inflection that someone might saygo screw yourself.
I point across the room.
The duke gives me a strange frown. “Uh—thank you, Prince Nicholas. Princess.” He bows his head at Iris.
There’s a pause.
Then he looks at Hex. “Prince Hex.”
But he doesn’t bow, and it’s a good thing he leaves. My hand is in a fist.
There’s a general sense of distrust in Christmas regarding Holidays we don’t often interact with—Dad’s whole philosophy of Christmas beingbettermeans most other Holidays arelesser.And putting me in direct competition with the Halloween Prince just reinforces all of that, so the duke’s reaction isn’t unusual. But why is it pissing me off so much? I have no reason to feel protective over Hex.
Oh god. Is that what this is? Feelingprotectiveof him?
Kris sweeps past me. “Princess—you’re needed straightaway.”
She physically wilts, but turns to Hex and gives him a smile that surprisingly isn’t fake. “Prince Hex,” she says with a curtsy.
He bows at the waist—that waist, god,stop staring at his waist—and straightens. “Princess.”
Oh, save me from his voice. Why would it have changed? It hasn’t, still rich and heavy and doing completely furious things to my stomach.
Iris lets Kris guide her away, but not before I catch her hiss at him, “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry—ow!” Kris rubs his side. “Did you pinch me?”
