me.”
“Good.” He walked down the stairs behind her. “I think I’ll send her a bunch of roses anyway. She was admiring the purple ones in the garden.”
“I bet she’d love that.”
“I think so, too.” He went ahead of her a little. “Door, open.” It did, and the back patio lay before them.
“That’s really a thoughtful thing to do.” She squinted at him as they went outside. There was no sun, but it was still bright. “You know, you’re much nicer than I thought you would be.”
“Door, close,” he commanded, grinning. “What were you expecting? Or shouldn’t I ask that?”
“Only if you want the truth.”
They strolled toward the pavilion.
“I’m fine with the truth. I prefer it. So yes, I would like to know what you expected. But I also want to know what the people of Limbo think of me. Of what they think I did. Mostly, I want to know what lies Vesta has used to poison my memory. Besides my supposed plan to sell the citizens of the kingdom into orc slavery.”
Theo stopped walking as they entered the vine-covered pavilion. The shade and the sound of the fountain were nice, and the air smelled sweet from the small white flowers on the vines. She didn’t want to tell him about Vesta’s lies. The very thought of how he’d react made her hurt for him. “Please don’t ask me that.”
He turned to look at her. There was pain in his eyes. “Are they all that bad?”
She looked away, unable to find the words.
“That’s answer enough.” He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Do you have any idea how deeply it cuts to know the kingdom I loved has been turned against me?”
She glanced at him. He was staring up, but she doubted he was looking at the clusters of tiny star-shaped flowers. He was smiling in a way that showed every bit of hurt inside him. Why had she started this conversation? “I’m so sorry, Robin.”
“Why should you be sorry? You didn’t do this to me.”
She took a step toward him, something inside her unraveling. “I’m sorry because I hate the idea of you being hurt by the things I might say. No, I didn’t expect to like you, but I do. I imagined you’d be this wretched, cruel old beast of a man who was going to make my next year unbearable, but you’re nothing like that. You’re young and handsome, and you’ve been kinder and more generous to me than anyone’s been since my mother died.”
She took a breath. “More than that, it’s clear to me that your kindness isn’t an act.”
The pain vanished from his face as concern took its place. “Why haven’t people been kind to you?”
She barked out the same kind of laugh he had just a few moments ago. That was what he’d heard out of everything she’d said? “Because…” Time to tell him the truth. He’d learn it eventually. “Because I am not kind to them. I’m not a nice person. I’m angry and bitter, and to be perfectly honest, I’m single because no sane man in Limbo wants to saddle himself with a woman like me.”
Robin frowned as though he didn’t understand. “You haven’t been like that here.”
“Because I can’t afford for you not to like me. So I’ve been working on my attitude and curbing my tongue. But you’ve made it easy to be different, too. Maybe because you didn’t know what I was really like, so you treated me like anyone else. Maybe because I’m away from all the reminders of how hard my life is. I don’t know.”
He came closer and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “Why are you like that when you’re home?”
She took a deep breath. Then another one. “When my mother died, the light went out of my life. Everything that was good died with her. The darkness sucked me in, and I soon realized how easy it was to give in to the anger. Especially when I realized it made people afraid of me. Made them leave me alone. I liked that better than all the pity I got for having a dead mother and a gambling father, for losing my schooling, for having to go to work so young, for all the bad hands I was dealt.”
His brow bent, but he said nothing.
She sniffed. “After a while, I didn’t remember how to be happy anymore. And then, in a little while longer, I didn’t care, because the anger owned me. It