he was about to go back to his spot in front of the window.
“I don’t want to talk,” he said, still avoiding my eyes–or even my direction entirely.
“I’m not used to that from you,” I said, surprising myself with my use of the words ‘used to,’ but I recovered quickly. “You’ve always talked to me when something needs explaining or to be discussed.”
He turned his head toward me and then offered a one-sided smile that didn’t look like a smile at all, more like a sneer, but not really a sneer at the same time. Ugh! “I’m not in the mood for talking,” he said and then looked back out of the window again. His words reminded me of all of the times I’d replied to him with the very same words when he said he wanted to talk to me, and it didn’t feel so good.
Everything in me told me to just let it go and let him be and simply go back to my room, but I still didn’t do it. I didn’t want to leave him, I wanted to talk with him. “Why don’t you just yell at me and tell me that you’re mad at me and just let me have it?” I asked in frustration.
I thought he would seriously start yelling at me after that, but he didn’t. He was really calm when he said, “I don’t happen to cry over spilled milk.”
Huh!
“Oh, I thought you didn’t cry at all,” I challenged, feeling stupid for speaking so childishly.
“You’re right, I don’t cry at all, and I won’t be doing it over spilled milk,” he replied coldly, frustrating me even more. Freaking spilled milk! “What happened, happened. Talking about it won’t turn back time.”
I looked down, embarrassed maybe. He was right, but…I didn’t like for us to be like this. Don’t even ask me why, because the heck if I knew. “Are you mad at me?” I whispered my question.
His silence was his answer.
“Please reply.”
“I am,” he replied, and his answer, though expected...it hurt. “For putting your life in danger,” he continued, and my stomach fluttered. Was that really why he was mad? “It almost broke my promise.”
Oh…that.
The hurt was back.
Still don’t ask why.
Still didn’t know the answer.
“Was that–all...” the question simply came out, “because of your promise?”
“Why else would I be?”
“I thought that…maybe you cared for me.” I just couldn’t hold it in.
The prince turned around so he was facing me, with a look I didn’t get on his face. I could read confusion, but there was something else I just couldn’t find a word for. “Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Why would you want me to care? Because I’m a toy you’d like to play with?” A hint of hurt was lacing his voice.
“Why would you say that? I don’t think that of you!”
“Do you really want me to count?” he asked, but answered at the same time, saying with his question that it was more than one time that I’d made him think I thought of him as someone I could fool. “We had a deal, Princess.” Him calling me ‘Princess’ again, and addressing me when he talked, was like a breath of fresh air and a cool breeze on a hot and sunny day. I even wanted to smile, but it wasn’t the best time to do so. I just listened to him talk, glad that he was finally doing so.
“I don’t understand why you would do that? Why would you escape? Was I treating you badly? Was I allowing anyone to treat you badly? I promised that no one would ever lay a finger on you. I promised that I would never harm you in any way. Why would you put your life in danger just to run away from me?”
I felt my throat closing as I listened to his words, looking at him, not knowing what to say. So I said nothing.
“We agreed that you would stay here and we would pretend we were happily married for six months and then you would go. I thought you wanted to save Janna’s life? And for your information, your nephew’s or niece’s as well! If you didn’t want to, why did you tell me you were okay with it? Why? Why fool me? And then jeopardize your life that way?” He pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyes glowing with anger, but a controlled anger. “Just one thing I really want to know more than anything: I told you all about the