“Couldn’t you stand down? Peacefully. I know your father is unreasonable on a good day, but if you made a bargain with him, promised never to change your mind and rise up against him as long as he left us alone, would he not even consider it? It would be in his best interest.”

“Even if, by some divine miracle, that happened, it would force one of my siblings to take my place.” His dark eyes were filled with regret. “I couldn’t, in good conscience, force this life on anyone who was unprepared.”

“Preparation could be worked around.”

“I suppose.” The space between his brows creased minutely before smoothing out again. He shrugged as if casting his warring thoughts away. “But it matters not. This is the hand fate has dealt me. I must see it through.”

“But—”

“I am fine, my heart. Truly.” He cut in before my mouth ran away with me and I demanded to go back to the palace to research ‘how to turn a prince into a commoner’ or something equally ridiculous. He tucked a stray curl of hair behind my ear, his touch feather-light. “With you by my side, I could never be discontented.”

Though I wanted to figure out the answer to every question right here, right now, I would respect his attempts to end the conversation. I’d helped him out of his binds once before, and I’d happily fight to do it again. But we were in public, so I filed it away for later and shoved the last of the apricot cake into my mouth, chewing with an appreciative hum.

The crumbs sticking to my fingers fell away easily with a brush against my pants, but no matter how many times I swallowed, the dryness in my throat wouldn’t budge. I glanced around for a fountain or a bar, even a well would’ve been welcome at that point—shit, have I had any water today?—but the brush of Cair’s fingers against my cheek interrupted the search. Ever attuned to my needs, he hooked a hand over my hip and steered me in the direction of a café decorated with beautiful arches of multicolored flowers and hanging rainbow garlands.

“Let’s get you a drink,” he said. “And something more substantial to eat than sweets.” I pouted, but before I could utter a word in my defense, he tacked on, “My dear, you may indulge to your heart’s content, but I fear you’ll turn into a pretty pastry if you don’t break up your streak with something nutritious.”

He had a point. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten a vegetable. “Fine.”