A Dove's Tale

Chapter 62

Prince Chevalier told me to stay in his library, so that’s where I was, dusting as the anger churned inside me. The simple designation that this was Prince Chevalier’s library wouldn’t keep Prince Gilbert out. He would find a way around Prince Chevalier, and he would come, and I was ready for him. I didn’t need any coffee to keep me awake while I waited.

Using me against Prince Chevalier was one thing. Endangering a five-year-old girl to get to me was another thing entirely.

It was another hour before the door opened. I whirled to face Prince Gilbert as his icy presence reached its cold tendrils toward me, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. He smiled pleasantly as he closed the distance between us.

“You were expecting me.”

“Leave Rachel alone,” I said vehemently.

He chuckled as he came to a stop in front of me, trapping me against a bookcase. “What happened to the frightened little dove from last night?”

“Do what you want with me, but leave everybody else out of this. I don’t want you near my neighbors or my mother, and, while we’re at it, stop using Prince Clavis to get to me, too.”

His brows drew together in a look that was almost pitying. “You really are too pure to be caught up in all this,” he mused.

“Leave them alone,” I repeated. “Say it.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side, the hint of pity gone, replaced by definite amusement. “And why would you take my word, little dove?”

“Because you hate lying.”

“Hm. True, but I also don’t make one-sided agreements, which brings us back to where the wolf interrupted us last night, doesn’t it?”

He reached out to brush a stray hair behind my ear. I flinched away from his cold touch, trailing down my jawline to my chin, wanting to slap his hand away, but this was a chance to get him to do what I wanted. I didn’t matter. If I could get him to agree to this, those around me would be safe, and that was all that I cared about right now.

“I already told you. Do what you want with me, but leave them alone,” I said, the words acid in my mouth. “Is that good enough for you?”

His smile morphed into a smug smirk. “This is new. I’m not used to the prey turning around and leaping into my jaws,” he said, tilting my chin up.

“Don’t think you’re unique,” I said bitingly. “It’s the same deal I made with Prince Chevalier when I started here.”

He laughed and slid his fingers from my chin, the tip of his forefinger lifting it up slightly with its final touch. “Owned by the Brutal Beast and the Conqueror Beast,” he said, turning slightly and offering me his arm. “How unfortunate for you, little dove.”

I swallowed bile and took his arm, trying not to flinch again as his other hand covered mine. He patted my hand and led me out into the main library.

“It’s really too bad that someone like you had to end up in this game between two monsters, although you’ve added an interesting layer it lacked before. Chevalier has never had so much as a c***k in his armor until now. He might even hesitate to kill you, but he’d still do it if forced to make that decision, as would I. Though let’s hope, for your sake, it doesn’t come to that.”

A cold weight settled in the pit of my stomach, reaching up to wrap its fingers around my heart. I didn’t believe Prince Chevalier would kill me, but I believed Prince Gilbert would without a second thought. Right now, I was an amusing pawn to him, something he could use to irritate his long-time enemy. If he knew how much Prince Chevalier cared about me, though, he would truly become dangerous to Prince Chevalier and Rhodolite, and my life would be forfeit.

“You’re very quiet, little dove,” Prince Gilbert commented, leading me out into the hallway. I didn’t see any other servants, but I averted my gaze to the ground, knowing it was only a matter of time before somebody saw us together.

“I already said what I needed to say,” I replied coolly.

He chuckled. “Lift your head. The downtrodden look doesn’t suit you. Chevalier already knows I’ve taken you for a stroll, so why not enjoy it? Unless you’d rather not go to the gardens after last night.”

My stomach twisted. How did Prince Gilbert know about that? The bench by the pond was only visible from a select few windows in the palace, none of which were even along the hall where the foreign princes were staying. But he seemed to know everything, the same way Prince Chevalier did, and I had to wonder if the once-in-a-thousand-year genius Prince Clavis talked about happened twice this time.

I lifted my head, as instructed, but I faced forward, refusing to look at Prince Gilbert. An exit into the gardens was just ahead of us. My heart throbbed painfully.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I replied flatly.

“Then you admit to having a little rendezvous with Chevalier.”

“No, I don’t. He gave me instructions to see him before I left, and he was in the gardens, so that’s where I went.”

“I warned you not to lie, little dove,” Prince Gilbert said, lowering his voice dangerously and sending a chill down my spine as we stepped into the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“I didn’t lie,” I insisted, glaring up at him. “But I told you I’d do what you want. That doesn’t mean I’ll tell you what you want.”

His smile returned, along with his laugh. “Does that go for Chevalier, too?”

“Yes,” I said, facing forward again.

The heavy scent of roses brought the memories of last night back, raw and painful, and I wished I were anywhere but here. I’d even take scrubbing that bucket out by the river over this.

“I can see why he keeps you around. You provide a pleasant distraction from the realities we have to deal with every day. Unfortunately for you, that means I don’t intend to let you go until he’s decided I’ve played with you long enough. But I’ll be nice and choose a different location than the one he took you to last night. I wouldn’t want to make you cry again.”

I pursed my lips, feeling the pressure of his blood-red eye on me but refusing to look at him. “If you really wanted to be nice, you’d stop talking about it.”

He shrugged. “That, or I could tell you that the charming little Rachel was never in any danger. I don’t hurt children.”

I let out a slow exhalation, something close to relief, but not quite. He hated lying, so what he said was the truth. Even he had his limits.

“Why not?” I asked, looking up at him cautiously.

“Harming innocent children would be a senseless waste of time,” he replied nonchalantly. “And they make an excellent source of information with their refreshing honesty. Your little neighbor was happy to tell me everything I wanted to know about you.”

Maybe I had spent too much time with princes who actually had some humanity in them, but the first part of that answer sounded more true than the second part. It made me wonder if there was more to Prince Gilbert than the cold, cruel monster he usually portrayed.

“She said you showed her a magic trick and gave her some candy,” I pressed on, curious against my better judgment.

“Does it surprise you to know I’m good with children?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, it does. Her brother said she wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

He chuckled. “Would that be Jason, the teenage boy who is hopelessly in love with you?”

I blushed and looked away. “He’s a boy with a crush. That’s all.”

There was a pressure behind Prince Gilbert’s gaze again, like he was looking through me to see something I couldn’t. I suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable, every muscle in my body tense and ready to run. He had led me to the back of the gardens, where tall rose bushes blocked the line of sight to other paths and leafy vines snaked around arches and pillars to create secretive, isolated pockets. Somehow, we had passed nobody. It was a beautiful day. The gardens should have been busy.

“I know you’re tired, but I’m afraid I can’t accommodate a nap for you when our time together is so limited,” Prince Gilbert said, leading me toward a gazebo, one that I knew from the library windows. The exterior was visible from there, but shadows hid the interior from sight at all times of the day. If nobody saw us enter, then nobody would know we were here, unless they walked past us or heard us.

“But you can sit and rest for a few minutes. I have a little trick that will help you relax.”

Not likely.

I swallowed my nerves and let him pull me down next to him on the stone bench, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, side to side. He tugged lightly on my ponytail, and I obediently sat back against his arm. Every part of him was as cold as the stone beneath us.

“Why are you always so cold, Prince Gilbert?” I asked, looking down at my hands nervously clenching into my skirt rather than at his face, far too close to mine.

“My body temperature is naturally lower than what is normal for most others,” he explained, sliding his arm down my back and snaking it around my waist. “Though it’s touching for you to be so concerned about me, even though you despise me. I think that deserves a reward.”

He pulled me closer, his breath on my ear as his hands met in front of me. One balled into a fist, the other covered it, and when he pulled it away, he held a white rose in his hand.

“Here,” he said, taking one of my hands and wrapping it around the rose stem.

“Ow!”

A thorn pricked my finger, and I dropped the rose, putting my finger in my mouth to suck the drop of blood away as I glanced up at him. He chuckled.

“Maybe this one is more to your liking.”

I looked back down as he picked up the white rose and covered it with his other hand. When he pulled it away, a black rose remained in its place, made of paper, but very realistic. The breath caught in my throat as he pressed it into my uninjured hand.

“This is a symbol of death,” I whispered, looking up at him as my other hand fell from my mouth to my lap.

“It suits you,” he replied, his voice soft and his breath warm against my face. His dark eyelashes fluttered down as he looked at my lap, taking my hand in his and flipping it over. “Do you look like her?”

I stared at him, processing his question while his black-gloved fingers traced from the small puncture down my finger to my palm. My mother. He was talking about my mother. He knew she was dying. But why was he bringing her up at all? How was she relevant when Prince Chevalier was his intended target?

“I look just like her,” I replied hesitantly.

His eyelashes fluttered up to reveal his blood-red eye, focused on mine and inscrutable. “Where did she come from?” he asked, tracing circles on my palm.

I shook my head. “She won’t tell me anything about her life before I was born. Do you - did you - know her?”

His fingers left my hand and lightly touched the outer corner of my eye, trailing down my cheek to my chin. “You have her eyes, little dove,” he murmured, leaning in to place a kiss next to my eye.

I didn’t know what to think. His feather-light kisses traveled down my cheek to my jawline as I turned away from him, his right hand settled on my stomach as his arm held me in place next to him, his left hand slid down my right arm to my hand, and my thoughts were a scrambled mess. He knew my mother. He couldn’t have been more than a child when they met, but he knew her. Did he know my father, too? My history?

Why did it seem like this was more about me than it was about Prince Chevalier?

He pressed a kiss to my ear and spoke into it, his voice low and breathy.

“Later. We’re about to be interrupted again.”

Then he pulled back, leaning against the bench, his hand leaving mine and his arm sliding back up to rest on the stone behind me. I hesitantly scooted away. He smirked, but didn’t reprimand me, so I scooted a little further, looking out of the gazebo at the empty cobblestone path, my cheeks blazing hot and my heart hammering in my chest. I looked down at the black rose in my hand and hid it in my apron pocket.

Was this really part of his game with Prince Chevalier?