heave
the contents of my stomach into the dark belly of the chamber pot.
Over and over, I wretched, until there was nothing left but bile,
burning as it came up. Finally, tears running down my cheeks and
my stomach aching, I was done. I shakily put the lid on the cham-
ber pot to smother the smell until I could gather enough strength
to do something with it.
I heard the door behind me slip open right before the prince
asked, “Alex? What in the name of Antion are you doing on the
f loor?”
I jumped up, stepping in front of the chamber pot, pressing
my fist to my chest. “My prince, why are you up? Do you need
something?”
We locked gazes across the room, the pale moonlight washing
over him, transforming him into a specter come to haunt me.
“I need to speak with you,” Prince Damian said. “And unfor-
tunately, the only time I dared broach this subject with you was
the middle of the night, when I knew there would be no listening
ears. However, since it would appear that you are not having a very
good night, perhaps I should wait for another time.”
“Of course not, Your Highness. I am at your service, always.”
“You’re sick, Alex.”
“No, my lord. I was indisposed by . . . emotional upset. I’m
95
fine now.” I prayed he couldn’t see the way my hands trembled in
the indistinct light of the moon.
“Indisposed by emotional upset?” Prince Damian echoed,
one eyebrow lifting. “Are you so ill at ease with me that you feel
you have to hide being upset over your brother’s death?”
I didn’t respond, staring at his chin rather than meeting
his eyes.
He gestured to the cot. “Alex, come, sit down. You don’t need
to stand at attention right now.”
I haltingly stepped forward but couldn’t bring myself to sit
down on the bed while my prince stood before me.
“Please sit down. We don’t need to always stand on such cer-
emony, especially when you aren’t feeling your best and it’s the
middle of the night.”
We stood there in silence as I battled with myself. I couldn’t
stop thinking about his nightmare, how I’d stared at him and even
let myself dream of him holding me in his arms. How I’d imagined
kissing him. We were treading on dangerous water. The closer I
allowed us to become, the harder it would be to keep the truth
from him. And no matter what, I could never let him find out my
secret.
Before I decided what to do, he did as he’d asked me to do,
and sat down on the cot with a sigh. He propped his elbows on his
knees and dropped his head into his hands. “I know I told you that
I kept a stiff upper lip when my brother died, but that wasn’t
exactly the truth.”
I stared down at his bowed head, my heart picking up speed.
Whatever it was I’d been expecting him to talk to me about, a
confession about his own brother’s death wasn’t it.
96
“When did you come to the palace — three, maybe four,
years ago?”
I nodded, but he didn’t look up. “A little over three years ago,
in the army barracks, my lord.”
“Then you never knew Victor. He was older than me and he
was the rightful heir.”
So slowly, my knee actually creaked in protest, I gingerly low-
ered myself down to sit beside him on the cot.
Damian turned to look at me. There was an expression of such
undisguised anguish on his face, it took my breath away. “I loved
my brother. He was killed by an assassin — a hired sorcerer. I was
with him before he died, but when we heard the sounds of fight-
ing, he made me leave. There was a passageway from his room to
mine. No one else knew of it. He told me to leave and I never saw
him alive again.”
I fought valiantly to maintain my composure, but it was a los-
ing battle. “Why are you telling me this, my lord?”
“Because you, of all people, understand. Because, for a while
now, I’ve known that of anyone on my guard, you’re the one I can
trust. I wish that you wouldn’t continue to pretend with
the contents of my stomach into the dark belly of the chamber pot.
Over and over, I wretched, until there was nothing left but bile,
burning as it came up. Finally, tears running down my cheeks and
my stomach aching, I was done. I shakily put the lid on the cham-
ber pot to smother the smell until I could gather enough strength
to do something with it.
I heard the door behind me slip open right before the prince
asked, “Alex? What in the name of Antion are you doing on the
f loor?”
I jumped up, stepping in front of the chamber pot, pressing
my fist to my chest. “My prince, why are you up? Do you need
something?”
We locked gazes across the room, the pale moonlight washing
over him, transforming him into a specter come to haunt me.
“I need to speak with you,” Prince Damian said. “And unfor-
tunately, the only time I dared broach this subject with you was
the middle of the night, when I knew there would be no listening
ears. However, since it would appear that you are not having a very
good night, perhaps I should wait for another time.”
“Of course not, Your Highness. I am at your service, always.”
“You’re sick, Alex.”
“No, my lord. I was indisposed by . . . emotional upset. I’m
95
fine now.” I prayed he couldn’t see the way my hands trembled in
the indistinct light of the moon.
“Indisposed by emotional upset?” Prince Damian echoed,
one eyebrow lifting. “Are you so ill at ease with me that you feel
you have to hide being upset over your brother’s death?”
I didn’t respond, staring at his chin rather than meeting
his eyes.
He gestured to the cot. “Alex, come, sit down. You don’t need
to stand at attention right now.”
I haltingly stepped forward but couldn’t bring myself to sit
down on the bed while my prince stood before me.
“Please sit down. We don’t need to always stand on such cer-
emony, especially when you aren’t feeling your best and it’s the
middle of the night.”
We stood there in silence as I battled with myself. I couldn’t
stop thinking about his nightmare, how I’d stared at him and even
let myself dream of him holding me in his arms. How I’d imagined
kissing him. We were treading on dangerous water. The closer I
allowed us to become, the harder it would be to keep the truth
from him. And no matter what, I could never let him find out my
secret.
Before I decided what to do, he did as he’d asked me to do,
and sat down on the cot with a sigh. He propped his elbows on his
knees and dropped his head into his hands. “I know I told you that
I kept a stiff upper lip when my brother died, but that wasn’t
exactly the truth.”
I stared down at his bowed head, my heart picking up speed.
Whatever it was I’d been expecting him to talk to me about, a
confession about his own brother’s death wasn’t it.
96
“When did you come to the palace — three, maybe four,
years ago?”
I nodded, but he didn’t look up. “A little over three years ago,
in the army barracks, my lord.”
“Then you never knew Victor. He was older than me and he
was the rightful heir.”
So slowly, my knee actually creaked in protest, I gingerly low-
ered myself down to sit beside him on the cot.
Damian turned to look at me. There was an expression of such
undisguised anguish on his face, it took my breath away. “I loved
my brother. He was killed by an assassin — a hired sorcerer. I was
with him before he died, but when we heard the sounds of fight-
ing, he made me leave. There was a passageway from his room to
mine. No one else knew of it. He told me to leave and I never saw
him alive again.”
I fought valiantly to maintain my composure, but it was a los-
ing battle. “Why are you telling me this, my lord?”
“Because you, of all people, understand. Because, for a while
now, I’ve known that of anyone on my guard, you’re the one I can
trust. I wish that you wouldn’t continue to pretend with
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