Page 61 of Wicked Elites

“I-I couldn’t.” Emotion thickened his voice, and he strode to a drawer, pulled out a dust cloth, and polished a brass trophy. Without looking in my direction, he said, “It’s hard enough surviving without my twin. Reading her personal thoughts would be like having her back for a painful glimpse of a version of her I never actually knew.”

“I’ll keep reading and tell you if I find anything that can explain why she…” My throat dried. “You know.”

“Thanks.”

I stood and walked to the door. “But I don’t think all three of those guys would group up to hurt your sister.”

He stilled for several heartbeats as though I’d said something unexpected. Then he turned his head a fraction, and without making eye contact, said, “You never know a person until they stab you in the gut. If I’d told you your twin would set you up for a hideous and deadly public humiliation, would you have believed me?”

I winced. “No.”

His eyes widened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” I blurted. “My emotions on that subject are still a bit raw.”

He inclined his head. “I’ll come and get you for breakfast in an hour and a half.”

My gaze caught the wall clock. Five forty-five. On a Sunday. A flush rose to my cheeks. No wonder he had looked so tired. I muttered an apology and raced back to my room.

* * *

Later, Cormac and I walked side by side through the bustling hallways. By now, not a single person oinked or mentioned pigs. Whatever the kings had said and done to maintain my status as a queen regnant, it had worked.

“Do me a favor.” Cormac hoisted his bulging satchel on his shoulder.

I smiled. “Anything.”

“Stay away from those three.”

My smile dropped. “If it wasn’t for them, the bullying wouldn’t have stopped.”

“Have you ever thought that they might have been behind the whole thing?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

He paused at the doors to the dining room. “It’s awfully convenient that they would be away the weekend the queens conducted their initiation. Plausible deniability.”

My shoulders sagged, and I stared at the empty, royal table. Only Leopold and Sebastian had been away. Someone had been there to make sure I didn’t fall off the side of a cliff and break my neck, and I don’t think it had been Ashley. My savior had even called an ambulance.

Prakash’s face pushed itself to the forefront of my mind. Had that been a dream or had he really been out there on the mountains, looking out for me?

Cormac’s determined gaze burned the side of my face. He continued staring until I said, “I’ll be careful.”

“Willow,” he growled.

“It’s the best I can do. Remember that day you rescued me from Sebastian?”

He nodded. “When he had you pinned against the wall, yes.”

“And remember all the annoying pranks that followed?”

“First years fighting their battles?” Cormac curled his lip. “The childish and pathetic ways they made your life a constant irritation. Yes, I remember.”

“Right now, we have a truce.” A bold understatement. I had enjoyed spending time with the kings, but this was the only way I could make Cormac understand. “I can’t afford to antagonize anyone by rejecting their hand of friendship.”

We stepped into the dining room, and he said, “Don’t let your guard down around them.”

“I won’t.”