father trailed behind, voicing his concerns with every step until distance softened them.
Kallia was surprised not to see Demarco hanging off Janette’s arm like the dutiful escort he’d entered as. Instead, he’d ambled off on his own toward a large, empty fireplace that dominated the wall like the roaring mouth of a lion. Occasionally, he’d pick up a fallen item to inspect it closer. Aimlessly wandering like Kallia, admiring and searching for something he wasn’t quite sure of yet.
“The ghosts will be angry with you if you keep touching their things,” she said finally.
Demarco bent toward the ground with a reaching hand, but his fingers never closed. He rose, keeping his back to her as he brushed his hands over his dark coat. For a moment she thought he might ignore her to avoid a repeat of this morning, until he said, “Tell that to the rest of our party. Though I’m sure ghosts will only excite them more.”
He spared a brief look over his shoulder before continuing on to the ornate fireplace. His terse response somehow set her nerves running, and she hated it. She’d never wanted to make an enemy out of him, and she didn’t want him to imagine her as one, either.
“Are we strangers now, Mister Demarco?” Kallia called after him. “Or are we just playing a rather intense game of silence and avoidance?”
Demarco’s shoulders straightened into a resigned line, but he turned. “What are you talking about?”
“I think you know. Even this morning, you could hardly look at me.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted me to.”
She didn’t even try fighting the wry grin on her face. “I did not come over here to argue with you. I came here to apologize.”
“You? Apologize?”
“I know. Between us, it’s a first.”
“Why?” He propped himself against the wall beside the fireplace, his head tilted. “You made your point very clear that I’m the one who erred, that I should be groveling at your feet with apologies.”
His tone carried such bite that Kallia paused to reconsider him. This Daron Demarco was no longer uncertain and proper. She’d never seen him act more bold, arms crossed in disinterest. His mind, decided.
Since he believed in the power of apology so much, perhaps it would set things right between them. Maybe it would ease the heaviness that had settled in her core after Canary’s story. But it was much harder coming up with the right words. It was a wonder that Demarco could do it so many times with her.
After more fraught silence, he let out a quiet laugh before shoving off the wall to walk away.
Her pulse sped. “Wait.”
“You think I’m simply going to stand here and let you pick me apart again?”
“I’m not—will you just listen?” Kallia huffed sharply, pulling him to a stop. “I don’t … I don’t do this very often.”
“And what is that, exactly? Chase after people who won’t give you the time of day?”
“Apologize,” she growled.
“And why do you want to make peace with me so badly?” His brows arched, his face curious and expectant and unreadable all at once. She hesitated, the full breadth of his attention on her suddenly too much.
Breathe. She chewed the inside of her lip, trusting that if she answered honestly, it would be enough. “Even for a prince, you’re a man of honor. Put a plate of money and jewels in front of you, and you’d probably set off on a tireless search for the owner.”
“You make me out to be some sort of saint, but I’m not.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nor am I a prince.”
“Nevertheless, you’re decent. And it was terribly presumptuous of me to accuse you of being otherwise.”
“Why did you, then?” His eyes shuttered, nowhere near softening. “Were you really so desperate to turn me away?”
Jack flashed like lightning in her mind, but Kallia held her tongue. Breathe. “I was not myself. It was a tiring show, and took a lot out of me. And unfortunately, I lashed out at you.”
Demarco merely nodded as if turning the words over in his head to find a fault with them, and failing. “Well, thank you for explaining. I accept your apology, Kallia.”
The pressure started lightening in her chest, until he began walking away. The sight of his back was a slap to the face. “Wait, that’s it?”
“What do you mean? You offered an apology and I accepted. That’s how forgiveness goes.”
“Sure, but…” She couldn’t rein in her thoughts. But what? What else had she expected? What else