Page 78 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“I doubt that,” I bit back.

He closed the distance between us, coming to a halt only a few inches away. “Things with Genevieve were complicated,” he said. “And I had to navigate the situation carefully. Just look at what she did to you over something she had completely built up in her own head.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This isn’t about Genevieve. She can hate me all she wants for the rest of her days and it wouldn’t matter to me. But at the very least I thought you respected me after all this time.”

“I have enormous respect for you,” he insisted.

“Really? Those words you said to her seemed to come a little too easily.”

I turned away from him, but he darted into my path, sinking a few inches in the mud. He blocked my view of the lake, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “I regret what I said, I do. Even if you hadn’t overheard it, it would have been a cruel thing to say. Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What if I made it up to you?”

An idea sparked, like lightning striking a wheat field in the heat of summer. I sized him up, wondering just how far his guilt might stretch. “Do you mean that?” I asked.

He nodded. “If it will put me back in your good graces, then yes.”

“I have something in mind, actually,” I said, my pulse quickening.

The prince’s eyes narrowed at my words. “That was awfully quick. Am I going to regret this?”

“Perhaps.”

“What is it?”

I exhaled slowly. “Come into Valnar with me to investigate the disappearances.”

“Absolutely not,” he replied without missing a beat.

“But you said—”

“Clearly, I spoke too quickly.”

“Please,” I begged. “Mordric won’t hear of me venturing into the city alone, not after what happened, and the seneschal’s investigation turned up nothing. You could escort me.”

His eyes narrowed. “I like my head just fine where it is, thanks—attached to my neck.”

“I’ll forget all about that nasty business with Genevieve.”

“You really ought to think about me sometimes. Mordric will string me up like a lamb in a butcher’s shop if he gets wind that you’re even thinking about looking into it yourself.”

I raised my brows. “You? A lamb?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Please?”

He paused, his expression amused. “Fine, but only because you said please. And if you don’t find anything by sunrise, I want you to drop it for good.”

I grinned, resisting the urge to throw my arms around him. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”

“You’re going to make an excellent courtier someday, witch.”

Prince Enhart trailed after me like a mildly irritated shadow as we headed into the city. His features were now hidden beneath a cowl following an encounter with a subject who’d nearly turned her horse’s head into a signpost at the sight of him. I’d watched, bewildered, as the woman fawned over the prince, the child strapped to her back staring up at him with wonder.

“Does that always happen?” I asked, suppressing a grin as we traipsed through the muddied alleyways.