The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(32)

The road was empty. The wraith was imprisoned in its fae forest, and nothing was going to change that. Kellan knew the bells were only ringing because the wraith was throwing its magic at the barrier that kept it inside its cage, but still a chill danced across his skin as he slowly moved toward Blue’s gate, glancing twice more at the road, just in case.

He knocked on the door and nearly grimaced when Blue opened it. So much for being able to do his job without her watching his every move. She met his eyes, and a faint flicker of curiosity surfaced, but mostly she looked exhausted.

Kellan’s irritation disappeared. Ignoring his guards as they moved into the house to check that it was safe, he stepped toward Blue. A tiny frown etched itself between her eyes, and he quickly cast about for something courteous and sympathetic to say. Something that would convey friendly concern for her well-being without intruding on her grief. Something charming and kind, but not overly intimate.

She cocked a brow at him as if to challenge his right to be standing on her porch, and he blurted out, “You look really worn out.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and he gave himself a mental head slap. What was it about her that made it impossible to be his usual charming, witty self?

“I didn’t mean that. I was going to say something courteous and sympathetic. I don’t know why I . . . Never mind. I’m sorry.”

“Did you come here just to tell me I look like I haven’t slept well in days?” There was a faint challenge in her voice, but the effect was lost when she scrubbed her hands over her face and pressed her fingers against her temples as if to stave off a headache.

“Have you slept at all?” He kept his voice quiet, angling his body to block anyone in the house from coming onto the porch and overhearing their conversation.

She blinked at the midmorning sunlight and yawned.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He extended a hand to rub her shoulders the way he did for Nessa when she was too tense to sleep, but then let it drop. She wasn’t Nessa, and despite the fact that he’d known Blue since his earliest memories, he had no idea how to comfort her.

Something bumped against his ankles, and he looked down to find Blue’s monstrosity of a cat winding through the prince’s legs to get to his mistress. She scooped the cat into her arms, and he flopped against her chest, his one good eye glaring balefully at Kellan.

“I don’t think your cat likes me.”

Blue scratched the cat’s head. “He’s an excellent judge of character.”

Kellan rolled his eyes. “Like you, I suppose?”

She shot him a look, and for a moment, he saw the old Blue—feisty, honest, and unafraid to tell the most powerful boy in the kingdom exactly what she thought—but then she yawned again, and her shoulders sagged.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” she said wearily.

Something warm awoke in his chest, and he smiled. “I don’t want to argue with you either.”

There was a beat of silence between them, punctuated by the hum of bees in her garden and the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs inside the house, and then she smiled faintly.

“I have no idea what to say to you when I’m not mad at you or worried about you.”

He tilted his chin down to meet her eyes. “You worry about me?”

She gave him the look that usually preceded an announcement about his general lack of common sense and said, “You climb high walls without safety harnesses, race barely broken stallions in illegal contests, get into street fights, and, to my knowledge, have yet to turn down a single, stupid dare from one of your equally foolish friends. I imagine everyone who cares about you worries plenty.”

He frowned. “Wait. You care about me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. Everyone I love most loves you. Nessa, Grand-mère, the queen, Papa . . .” Tears glinted in her eyes, and she looked away. “I don’t want anything to hurt them, which means I don’t want anything to hurt you.”

“Your Majesty, Lady Chauveau and her daughters are in the parlor, ready to receive you,” his guard said from the doorway.

Kellan nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off Blue. Quietly, he said, “I thought you hated me.”

“Like you hate me?” She raised her eyes to his, and he swallowed hard at the stark vulnerability in them.

That was one of the things he both respected and dreaded with Blue. You always knew exactly where you stood. There were no pretty words, no artful deceptions, no games. She never bothered to hide the truth.

Choosing his words with care, he said, “I don’t hate you, Blue. I never have.”

“But you don’t like me.” She gave him a look that dared him to deny it.

“You don’t like me either.”

They held each other’s gazes for a long moment, and then she laughed—a pure sound, unfettered by the grief that filled her. He grinned, and the warmth in him spread.

“Maybe you’re not my favorite person in the kingdom, but I love Nessa, my mother, Grand-mère, and your papa too. And they all love you.” Kellan let his hand rest on her shoulder and felt an odd sense of peace when she didn’t flinch from his touch. “That means I don’t want anything to hurt you, either.”

Pepperell sniffed Kellan’s hand and then rubbed his face against the prince’s fingers. Kellan’s smile widened. “You were right, as usual. He’s an excellent judge of character.”