“If you think I was anything close to happy these past six weeks,” he said grimly, “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“You were happy enough to stay away for that long.” I tried and failed to hide the note of hurt in my voice.
Rhys’s face softened a smidge. “Trust me, princess. If I had a choice, I would’ve been back far sooner than that.”
The velvety tips of butterfly wings brushed my heart.
Stop it. Stay strong.
“Which brings me back to my question,” I said. “Why are you here?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He hadn’t shaved that day, and thicker stubble peppered his face than I was used to.
I curled my hands into loose fists, resisting the urge to run them over the short black hairs on his cheek and the scar on his eyebrow. Just so I could reassure myself he was actually there.
Angry and infuriating, but there.
“Because I—”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Rhys moved off me so fast it took me a few seconds to process what happened. Once I did, and I saw who had interrupted us, my stomach sank.
Because standing at the end of the hall, wearing a half curious, half smirking expression, was none other than my cousin Andreas.
“I was on my way to my room when I heard something and came to investigate,” he drawled. “Apologies if I…intruded.”
Rhys spoke up before I could. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m Bridget’s cousin.” Andreas smiled. “I guess I will see you around after all. Small world.”
My head whipped between them. “You know each other?” How was that possible?
“We met at the airport,” Andreas said casually. “I thought he dropped his wallet but, alas, I was mistaken. We had a nice little chat, though I never caught your name.” He directed the last part at Rhys, who waited a few beats before answering.
“Rhys Larsen.”
“Mr. Larsen is my bodyguard,” I said. “He was…helping me get something out of my eye.”
Secretly, I kicked myself for being so careless. We were in a side hallway of a quieter part of the palace, but there were eyes and ears everywhere. I should’ve known better than to get into it with Rhys where anyone could pass by and overhear.
Judging from Rhys’s expression, he thought the same thing.
“Really? How considerate of him.” Andreas didn’t sound convinced, and I didn’t like the way he was sizing us up.
I drew myself up to my full height and stared him down. I wouldn’t let him intimidate me. Not in my own home.
“You mentioned you were on your way to your room,” I said pointedly. “Don’t let us stop you.”
“First time we’ve seen each other in years, and this is the greeting I get.” Andreas sighed, pulling off his gloves with deliberate slowness before slipping them in his pocket. “You’re different now that you’re crown princess, dear cousin.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I am different. I’m your future queen.”
Andreas’s smile slipped, and I saw Rhys smirk out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m glad you made it here safely.” I extended a small olive branch, if only because I had no desire to engage in overt hostilities with my cousin for the next month or however long he planned on staying here. “But I have a meeting I need to return to. We can chat later.”
By later, I meant never, hopefully.
“Of course.” Andreas tipped his head and cast one last glance at me and Rhys before disappearing down the hall.
I waited a good two minutes before I allowed myself to relax.
“Your cousin seems like a shithead,” Rhys said.
I laughed, and the mood between us finally lightened.
“Not seems. He is. But he’s also family, so we’re stuck with him.” I twisted my ring around my finger, trying to find a tactful way to bring us back to our earlier conversation. “About what happened before Andreas interrupted…”
“I came back because I wanted to come back,” Rhys said. “And…” He paused, like he was debating whether to say what he was about to say. “I didn’t want you to be alone while you’re dealing with all this shit.” He gestured toward our lavish surroundings.
Alone.
It was the second time he’d said it. First on my graduation night, and now. He was right both times.
I’d tried and failed to name the empty, gnawing feeling that’d haunted me since Rhys left. The one that crept up on me when I lay in bed at night and tried to think of something I looked forward to the next day. The one that washed through me at the oddest moments, like when I was in the middle of an event or pretending to laugh along with everyone else.
Now, I had a name for it.