“She’s not afraid of you, Luc.”
“I’m aware,” the prince drawls without taking his eyes from me. “And I hope you’re aware you’re blackmailing the prince of Cavanos.”
I sigh greatly. “And here I was, thinking of calling this the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Winded by all this new information, I approach Lucien at his spot under the trees. Malachite gives me a little wave, and Lucien’s frown lightens as he observes his partying peers.
“Took you long enough,” he says, an edge of imperiousness to his voice. Malachite nudges him roughly.
“Just tell her you’re happy she’s here, you grump.”
“Memories are dangerous things,” I murmur.
“They keep you prisoner sometimes,” he agrees. “But just having them, being able to remember them, revisit them, live in them when life gets too rough—I think it’s worth it.”