Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(50)

He stared down at her. “So you’ve said. But you broke off our engagement anyway.”

His words knifed me in the chest like a dagger, and all the air left my lungs in a sickening rush. Engaged? The two of them had been engaged? When? For how long? And why hadn’t they gotten married?

Then another realization hit me—this had to be what Serilda and Cho had been hiding when I’d asked them about Helene earlier. Why hadn’t they mentioned that she’d been engaged to Sullivan? Instead, Serilda had wanted me to focus on the fight with Rhea, while Cho had suggested that I ask Sullivan about the other woman. Maybe my friends had thought that the information would have been less surprising coming from him. Well, I was getting it from him now, and it was still plenty shocking.

Helene sighed, and a weary expression filled her face, as though this was an argument they’d had many, many times before. “You know that was my father’s doing. Not mine. I wanted to marry you.”

Sullivan let out another harsh, bitter laugh. “Your father never liked me. But even more than that, he wanted you to marry a real prince, a legitimate prince, instead of a bastard pretender like me.”

He started to turn away, but Helene grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

“I never cared about any of that,” she said. “I cared about you. I loved you, Lucas. No one else.”

He stared down at her, his face hard, but the charred scent of his ashy heartbreak swirled through the air, overpowering the trees and flowers. Sullivan had loved her too, and quite deeply, given the strong, sharp aroma.

Helene glanced around, as if making sure they were alone. The servants and guards had vanished back inside the palace, and it was just the two of them—along with me.

They hadn’t noticed me lurking on the balcony above, and I certainly wasn’t going to call out to them. Maybe it was petty, but I wanted to know more about their relationship—and especially how Sullivan felt about Helene now.

When she was satisfied that they were alone, Helene tilted her head to the side, making her hair fall prettily over her shoulder. Her red lips curved into a smile. “Do you remember how much fun we used to have sneaking out of the royal balls?”

Her light, teasing tone cut through some of the tension, and Sullivan’s face softened.

“I would do my duty. I would smile and laugh and dance and flirt with all the suitors my father wanted me to charm,” Helene said. “And then, as soon as I could, I would slip away and sneak out here.”

“And I would follow you,” Sullivan replied in a low, strained voice.

“Yes, you would.” She stepped closer to him, reached out, and toyed with one of the silver buttons on his gray coat. “And then you would find me and kiss me.”

He didn’t respond, but his gaze dropped to her perfect, heart-shaped lips.

“And I would kiss you back,” Helene murmured, moving even closer to him. “And then we would go deeper into the gardens and spend the rest of the night together.”

Sullivan still didn’t respond, but a muscle ticked in his jaw, and his eyes narrowed, as if he was silently remembering all those same things.

Helene gave him another soft, teasing smile. “And then there were those times when I didn’t want to find a dark, secluded spot in the gardens. All the times when I couldn’t wait to be with you.” She slid her hand past his coat and trailed her fingers up and down his chest. “If memory serves, one of those times was right here, in this very spot. When we got engaged. That was one of my favorite nights with you.”

Her silky, throaty words stabbed me in the gut like a sword. Lucas Sullivan was a handsome man, a powerful magier, and a bastard prince. Of course he’d had lovers. But it still hurt to listen to one of those lovers talk about the passion they’d shared. And not just any lover, but someone who’d had his heart as well.

Someone who might have it still, judging from the anguished look on Sullivan’s face.

Helene cupped his jaw with her hand. “Do you remember that night, Lucas? Because I certainly do.”

“Of course I remember.” His voice was as hoarse as hers. “I remember everything about that night. The color of your dress, how you did your hair, how you felt against me, how happy I was when you agreed to marry me.”

His words slammed into my chest like a gladiator’s shield, each soft syllable pummeling my heart into smaller and smaller pieces. He swayed forward, as though he was going to lean down and kiss her, and I had to resist the childish urge to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from seeing that. Or worse, him leading her into the hedge maze as he’d apparently done so many times before.

But at the last second, right before his lips would have met hers, Sullivan shook his head, forcing Helene to drop her hand from his jaw. He stepped away from her.

“Oh, yes. I remember everything about that night.” His face hardened. “I also remember the next morning, when you returned my ring and broke off our engagement.”

Helene’s lips pressed together into a tight line. “I’ve told you a dozen times. My father forced me to do that. He threatened to disinherit me, along with my younger sisters, if I didn’t do what he wanted, if I didn’t marry who he wanted. I didn’t care about the money, but I couldn’t let my family suffer because of me.”

“Yes, I know how powerful your father was, and how petty and vindictive. Although I have to admit that I was surprised when I heard about your engagement to Frederich.” More hurt rippled through Sullivan’s voice, and the scent of his ashy heartbreak filled the air again. “Although knowing your father’s ambition, I shouldn’t have been surprised at all.”