But maybe Prince Ronan isn’t the only one with a weakness for tulips. Sebastian is speechless as he takes me in. His eyes return to my face again and again, as if he’s trying to convince himself that I’m okay. “You look . . .” He squeezes the back of his neck and flashes me a boyish grin. “Let’s just say I can’t imagine that you’ve been able to get around unnoticed.”
I swallow but can’t help my blush at the compliment. “I managed.”
“I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m fine.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him the truth, but what did the king say about talking about our deal? Was it only the Seelie I can’t tell or did he forbid me to tell anyone? I think it’s just the Seelie, but what happens if one of them overhears me telling Sebastian? “You shouldn’t have come looking for me. What about your apprenticeship?”
He studies my face, tracing the edge of my jaw with his thumb. “Nothing matters as much as you.”
I rest my cheek against his chest, curl into him, and hold tight. Maybe it makes me weak, but I’m desperately grateful that he’s here. Because I’m tired. Because I’m scared.
Because I’m ashamed.
I’m ashamed that part of me wants to go home—that I wish I could leave this place and these awful creatures. Ashamed that I wish I didn’t have to be the one to rescue my sister.
The king was right about one thing. I am a great thief. I can steal just about anything. But a faerie prince’s heart? I wouldn’t know where to start.
I should feel lucky that the king isn’t asking anything worse from me, but instead I feel primed for failure. I would rather have ventured into the depths of the Unseelie wilds—fought and evaded terrible monsters to steal magical treasures. I would’ve had more confidence in my ability to do that, but this? Pretending I want to be a faerie’s bride and beating out other women for the honor? Even in the prettiest dress, I wouldn’t know how to do that.
Sebastian steps back and cups my face in one big hand. “Tell me where you’ve been.”
I shake my head. I can’t tell him about the king. I can’t risk it. “I’ve been looking for Jas. My search led me . . . away from the queen’s lands.”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “My amulet can’t protect you from the worst of the shadow court. You have no idea how dangerous they are. If an Unseelie fae had seen you, they would have taken you. They could have bound you as a slave. Worse.”
I hate that my choice hurts him. How can I explain? If anyone understands what Jas means to me, it’s Sebastian. “I won’t go home until I find her. But you should. This isn’t your fight, Bash.”
He scans the lush gardens around us and curses under his breath. “I need more time,” he says, more to himself than to me.
I put my hand on his arm, all too aware of the strength and warmth beneath my fingers. “For what?”
“To do what I should have done months ago.” He swallows. “Walk with me?”
I cast a long look at the castle. I need to go in and present myself as a potential bride for the prince before he’s chosen his twelve.
“Just for a few minutes,” Sebastian says. He tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “Can you give me that?” His smile is like sunlight on my icy heart. I can’t deny him this—not when it’s so simple.
Turning, he stoops and plucks the bud of an orange day lily from the garden. It blooms in his palm, and I gasp. “I’ve never seen you do that.”
“My mother loves day lilies. When I’d leave you to go home, my best friend would mock me for staring at them. He knew they reminded me of your hair, but in truth they don’t compare.” He tucks the flower into my hair, and I allow myself a beat to close my eyes. The feel of his rough fingertips on the shell of my ear sends a shiver through me. How can I be so greedy for more of his touches—more of these long glances and tenderly spoken words—when Jas needs me?
“You never talked about your family.” I shake my head. “I should have asked more questions.”
“I never gave you the chance.” He adjusts the flower one last time before dropping his hand. “I was raised in privilege and power. And I couldn’t always trust that those around me truly cared.”
This surprises me. Not everyone is lucky enough to be a mage’s apprentice, of course, but any family with significant power would consider the position beneath them. “What kind of power?”
“Ruling power. The kind I’ll be expected to take on myself.” He takes my hand in his and studies my fingers in his palm. The glamour may have sharpened some of his features, but it left his calluses untouched. “Soon.”