Page 68 of This Prince Is Not Charming

“It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for my mistakes. I love Ceri more than anything,” I said.

Mother’s hand floated to her mouth, her blue-grey eyes welling with tears.

“And that’s why I’ll never tell her. I’ve suspected she feels the same, but she can’t move to the castle. She can’t leave her father, and if I confessed my love, then what? All I’d be doing is causing her pain. Forcing her to make a choice she shouldn’t have to make. At least this way I get to have her in my life and not complicate things.”

Mother stared at me down her nose, and suddenly I felt like a small boy about to be taught a lesson. “Cillian, Ceri is thirty-five years old. She’s a grown woman and perfectly capable of making her own choices. But she can’t do that if you’re not letting her. You know her as well as I do. She’d want to be able to make this choice for herself. And you two are adults. You can figure this out together. You’re not going to lose her. You love her too much to ever let that happen.”

Hope sparked within me for the first time in a long time. Then I remembered the trials and sank farther into the bed. “Except right now Castle is planning who’s to be my wife.”

Mother arched a brow. “And have you ever thought this was Castle’s way of bringing you and Ceri together? That that’s the ultimate plan?”

I huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think so. Knowing Castle, I’ll probably end up married to the cat.”

Mother choked out a laugh. “You’re going to have a long recovery, Cillian. You did a lot of damage to your heart and your mind. You’re going to have cravings. Sometimes your emotions might be more heightened than usual.”

“Perfect. So glad I don’t have a stressful job.”

Mother laughed again. “At least you’ve got your sense of humor back.”

“That’s something. So what have I missed? I’m guessing the trials have been put on hold unless Castle decided to go ahead and do away with the high prince altogether. Fairwitch Isle would probably be better for it.”

“Cillian Wolfgang, you care about this city more than anyone I know. We’ve been invisible for so long, in hiding, afraid of the Brotherhood of Magic, yet you’ve kept us all sane. You’ve found ways to bring us together, ways to keep our community thriving, ways to make us all feel safe. Don’t you dare act like you’re not worthy of this crown.” She raised her chin. “I don’t think the crown is worthy of you.”

Now instead of clenching, my damn heart was melting, another odd sensation rolling through me.

I shifted. “Thank you,” I finally said. “Maybe one day I’ll actually believe that.”

“Well, I hope it’s soon. Now that you’re awake, I’m afraid Castle is going to throw another trial at you.”

“Hopefully Castle waits until I’m strong enough to walk,” I said, looking up at the walls around me and raising my voice to really make sure it heard me.

“How are you feeling?” Mother asked, and I sent her a pointed stare.

“I have no idea.”

She let out a giggle, then clapped her hand over her mouth like she’d done something wrong. I laughed, too, and then we were both laughing, and even though my emotions felt like a knotted, tangled mess inside, this felt good. It felt like hope.

“Enid is going to be checking in on you and going over your treatment plan. There are a few tonics she’d like you to take. She’d also like you to start talking to someone.”

I raised a brow. “That’s all I do. I talk to people. All day long.”

“A professional someone. Someone who can help you get more in touch with your emotions.”

I groaned. That sounded like just about the worst thing I could think of.

Mother patted my hand. “Don’t worry about all that now. Just rest and know that we’re all here for you. Especially Ceri.”

I blew out a breath.

“Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Golden curls and a challenging stare flashed in my mind. “Yes,” I said, voice resolute. Now I would just need the courage to do it.

CHAPTER 31

Ceri

“Ouch!” I hissed and pulled my finger back, a bloom of blood appearing where I’d just poked myself with a needle. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, slamming down the needle, thread, and dress that I was currently stitching. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, not when Cillian was fighting for his life. I’d been by his side every day, but his mother had finally ordered me to go home to sleep, eat, and rest. The only problem was I couldn’t do any of those things.