Maren had a fitful night's sleep. Her bedroom door lock gave her little enough comfort, since she supposed the Prince would have access to a key. Or he could just probably just knock it down with his powers.

She felt foolish. She should have known that he would expect her to actually be his mistress eventually. But from their first private interaction on the day of the Selection, he had given her the impression that he found her completely repulsive, and she had become used to the idea that she would be unscathed.

But of course, she would not be so lucky. After all, it was implicit in the nature of the Selection that she would be providing her "services" while in his household.

In the gardens the night before, she had been surprised that he had been behaving somewhat politely to her. She had thought this was perhaps a positive sign that they might coexist in something more pleasant than outright hostility.

But then he kissed her.

She knew that other young women probably would have enjoyed having a prince kiss them, but she hated it.

She was no romantic; she did not dream of falling in love with handsome men. That was for someone with an entirely different life. Still, she could have hoped that if someone was going to kiss her, it would have been under circumstances where she at least wanted him to do so. Not like the night before.

She realized he was probably just feigning cordiality, so she would let down her guard. Had anyone even been watching them? And what did it even matter if they did? Why is he so obsessed with making everyone think they actually liked each other?

She tossed and turned, trying to come up with some way that she might extricate herself from this situation.

But there was no hope. She may be able to delay the Prince, but if he wanted her, she would not be able to stop him—at least not without getting arrested.

Of course, just because she could not stop him did not mean she had to just go along with the charade. Perhaps she was less powerless than she thought.

—

In the morning, she blearily put on her dressing gown and drank the coffee that had been put out for her. All her meals had been delivered to the small table in her sitting room, which she expected confused the staff, but Maren didn't care. It was far better than the alternative.

After a lot of coffee and a bit of breakfast, Maren dressed and found the book she had been reading the day before. She thumbed through it, not really reading. It was a novel about a young man having an adventure in an enchanted forest. It had been entertaining enough, but she simply could not concentrate on it. She kept looking up at the door to her sitting room, half expecting the Prince to barge in and maul her at any moment.

But he did not come that morning, or afternoon, or evening. Or the next day. On the third day, he finally knocked. It was afternoon, around the same time he had taken her to the garden before.

"C-Come in," she called shakily.

She wanted to recoil and perhaps hide in her room, but instead rose and curtsied. She kept her eyes averted.

"My lady," he grumbled, "You will come with me to the gardens, now."

"No, Your Highness, I will not," Maren said firmly. She hadn't known she was going to actually say "no" until the words came out of her mouth. She had thought of it the night of the ball, but hadn't been sure she had the nerve. Apparently, she did.

The Prince looked at her as though she had spoken gibberish.

"Excuse me?" he snarled. "I must have misheard you."

He was giving her a chance to retract her statement; she wasn't going to, though. She raised her head to look directly at the Prince. Trying not to think about her recklessness, she repeated, "I will not."

The Prince seemed to inflate with anger. If Maren had to guess, he probably was not a man who was told "no" very often.

"Why?" he growled.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Our circumstances may be such that you can do whatever you like with me, but that does not mean I have to be a willing participant. So, you can take me to the gardens if you like, but you'll have to drag me."

His eyes blazed with rage and his mouth tightened. For a moment, she thought he might actually drag her out of the room, but he did not approach her. Instead, he glared at her for a few minutes then spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Maren sat down on the couch, trembling slightly. She wasn't sure if she was proud of her defiance or terrified by her audacity. Both, perhaps.

Had she made a terrible mistake? Quite possibly. She couldn't bring herself to regret it, though. At least if she was going to be used or abused, she would make it difficult for him.

The next day, at roughly the same time, he knocked on her door again. She gave her permission for him to come in, rose and curtsied, and stared at him defiantly.

He still looked furious and spoke tersely: "Would you please come with me to the gardens?"

Maren took a deep breath, knowing that she was tempting fate now, and said firmly, "No, I will not."

Clearly, the Prince thought that ordering her about was the issue and while she did prefer to be invited instead of ordered, it was still not enough to make her cooperate.

The Prince's left eye began to twitch, and his face was flushed with anger. He made a sound in the back of his throat that was very much like an animal growling.

"Woman!" he roared. "What is the matter with you?"

His fists were clenched beside him, and she felt something like a tug in her bones that she instinctively knew was the Prince calling the Darkness to his hands. She felt the Light rise within her in response, but refused to let it show. That would help nothing.

She narrowed her eyes, her own anger mounting.

"I will not be an active participant in my subjugation. You want to have your way with me? Fine, but I will not make it easy for you!" she spat and stomped into her bedroom, slamming and locking the door.

—

Donovan was very, very angry, and very, very confused. He was completely and utterly, furiously enraged at The Girl. The first time she told him no, he was indignant. Eventually, he reasoned that she must be trying to make a point that she would not respond to orders. So, he went to her and asked politely and said "please" and she still refused to do what he asked.

How dare she defy him? And by the gods, why? He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about or why she was being so difficult. Possibly, he could reason it out when he calmed down, but for the moment he decided he liked being furious.

He went to his private rooms to stomp around and maybe throw things, and definitely have a massive glass of brandy.

The nerve of that woman! That witch. She was lucky he hadn't already had her arrested. It would serve her right.

Donovan was still smoldering in his sitting room when there was a knock at the door.

"What?" he yelled, irritated at anyone who might come to bother him. It better not be The Girl.

"Well, I was free early and came to visit but since you're in such a lovely mood I expect I'll come back another time," Alec's voice called through the door.

Donovan sighed. "You might as well come in," he said.

Alec came in and said, "What has got you so angry?"

Donovan glared in response. Alec, accustomed to Donovan's temper, helped himself to the bar and sat down across from him.

"I don't suppose this has anything to do with your...houseguest?" Alec asked.

Donovan growled at the thought of her.

"I see," Alec said. "That is serious. Would you like to tell me what happened?"

"She will not do what I asked," Donovan muttered.

Alec looked intrigued. "What did you ask her to do?"

"Twice I've asked her to go to the gardens and twice she said no," he explained tersely.

"I see, and going to the gardens is important to you because of your...love of flowers?" Alec suggested.

"I have my reasons," Donovan grumbled.

"Ah, yes," Alec said, "Be that as it may, I expect there is possibly more at play. Did she tell you why she did not want to go?"

"Only nonsense! Some ridiculous something or other about how she 'would not be an active participant in her own subjugation' and she 'wouldn't make it easy for me to have my way with her.' It was insane. She is a madwoman," Donovan ranted.

Alec closed his eyes as though mentally exhausted.

"What happened before she told you she wouldn't go, I mean the last time you saw her before that?"

"Nothing! That awful ball," Donovan exclaimed.

Alec looked surprised, but fortunately did not ask why Donovan did not see The Girl for several days.

"All right, what about before that?"

"Before the ball? I don't know, I only saw her twice!" Donovan said, standing up and prowling the room in agitation.

Alec did voice surprise that time, "Only twice? In two weeks? What have you been —"

He stopped, having seen Donovan's glare.

"All right, all right, be that as it may, what happened at the ball then?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking very much aggrieved.

"Nothing! There were various introductions, and dancing, and a very uneventful and tedious discussion in the gardens," Donovan said, still pacing.

"What happened in the gardens?" Alec asked.

"Gods, it was nothing. I thought someone was watching us and I kissed her and that's all. It was barely a kiss— it was more of a lip...smashing," Donovan finished lamely.

"So you sort of just grabbed her and pressed your lips to hers?"

Donovan shrugged then nodded. That was more or less what happened.

"Mmhmm. And you have absolutely no idea why the lady wants nothing to do with you?" Alec asked. He seemed rather annoyed.

"None whatsoever!" Donovan exclaimed.

Alec sighed, exacerbated, and said, "I expect you would figure this out on your own eventually, but as your head is currently so far up your own ass that you've lost all sense of direction, I shall assist you."

Donovan began to protest, but Alec held up a hand, stopping him.

"Let me finish, and then you can say whatever you like. My friend, the lady is under the impression that you mean to take her to your bed against her will."

"What?" Donovan said, genuinely confused.

Alec sighed again, "What else could she possibly mean by 'not making it easy for you to have your way with her?'"

Donovan frowned, thinking. He hadn't really thought about what she might have meant. He had been too angry. But now that Alec said it, it seemed obvious. He supposed the bit about not being an active participant in her own subjugation might have referred to not wanting to help him get her executed for being a witch, but that felt like something of a stretch. And, besides, "have your way with me" really did only have one meaning.

"How could she think that? I would never!" he declared, offended. He had completely left her alone and not once made any sort of move in that particular direction. He was insulted that she would even think him capable of such a thing!

"I know that," Alec reassured. "But how could she? Let us look at this from her perspective. Here are the interactions she has had with you, or at least the ones you mentioned. Number one: being chosen to join your 'household' without her consent. Number two: what I can only imagine were some fairly uncomfortable and awkward interactions between the Selection and the ball. Number three: you took her to a ball and kissed her with no romance whatsoever. And you really cannot fathom why she would think you would take undue advantage of the situation?"

Donovan sighed and collapsed into his chair, his anger having left him deflated. He had never, would never, and could never coerce or force a woman to his bed. But, he knew that for some past and present members of the royal family, there was a gray area when it came to the Selection.

"I suppose you make a valid point," he told Alec tightly.

"I thank you," Alec said. "Need I also point out that this lady comes from the most remote part of the kingdom and has had — I can only imagine, limited social experience. Gods, man, that might have been her first kiss!"

Donovan groaned as it all came together. Of course, she was convinced he would drag her to bed. He should have figured it out, and he probably would have had he not been so preoccupied with her powers.

Alec was likely right. Coming from a part of the kingdom that was sparsely populated, particularly with noble families, and having powers she had to keep hidden from the world would have led to a life of substantial if not complete social isolation. He would bet a good bit of gold that the awkward bumping in the garden was the first time she had been kissed by a man.

Donovan groaned again and declared, "I am an ass."

"Yes," Alec agreed. "But fortunately, the condition isn't permanent."

Donovan was quiet, trying to figure out how to dig himself out of the rather deep hole he found himself in.

"Look," Alec said, "I don't know what you've got going on here, and that's fine, but if you want her to be your mistress, you have to at least convince her you aren't going to force the matter."

"I know, I know," Donovan said. "I have to apologize... I just really don't want to."

"Chin up!" Alec said brightly, "I'm sure you can get it done quickly. But if she throws anything at you, do try and dodge; I really haven't got the time to be patching you up."

—

Maren stayed in her locked bedroom all night. She knew she had enraged the Prince, but she had absolutely no idea what he would do with that anger. Obviously, he could have her arrested for having the Light, but she doubted he wanted to, or he would have done it already. Could he have her arrested for something else? Was yelling at a prince a crime? She wasn't sure.

In a way, she was glad she had done it. If something awful was going to happen to her, at least she had done what little she could do to resist the situation. But, she knew there would be consequences for her actions. The Prince did not seem like a forgiving man.

Perhaps he would send her away? That would possibly be an improvement. She couldn't go home to her family, but she could go somewhere else. Perhaps the mountains? Getting there from the Capital would be challenging, though.

Maren sighed, putting the thought aside. Karlyn told her once, "The Light cannot control what other people do, so you might as well get used to the idea that you can't either." And as much as she would really like to be able to control the Prince, she couldn't.

But thinking of Karlyn made her think that she would actually have been rather proud of Maren for standing up to the Prince. That brought her some comfort.

She didn't much feel like reading, so she tried to meditate, but that didn't work either—she was too distracted. Instead, she settled for climbing into the window seat in her bedroom and staring out the window.

She would have liked to go outside, but not quite badly enough to further enrage the Prince, and definitely not badly enough for her to want to go out with him. So, she settled for staring out into the woods surrounding the gardens and trying to enjoy what peace she had while she had it.

It didn't last long.

From inside her bedroom, she heard someone knocking on the outer door of her suite. She paused, listening. If it were a servant, they would most likely enter, leave something, and depart, or possibly just leave when she did not answer the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Two knocks. Most likely not a servant. But it didn't rule it out entirely, Mrs. Whitley, for example, might knock twice. Maren decided to wait.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Damn. Undoubtedly, not a servant, which meant it was most likely the Prince, which meant she really did not want to open the door.

What would happen if she didn't? Could she just ignore him and stay in the suite forever? She didn't think the Prince would do something as unmannerly as barging into a lady's rooms without permission, but she wasn't at all sure.

She decided to split the difference and emerged from her bedroom into her sitting room, but was not yet prepared to open the main door or give her permission for him to enter.

"Lady Maren," called the Prince through the door. "I would like to talk to you."

She looked at the door skeptically. "Talking" could mean a great number of different things. He didn't sound angry, but it was difficult to tell through a door.

"What would you like to talk about?" she called back. She felt like that was a rather stupid question, but wanted to hear what he had to say before allowing him in her rooms.

After a pause, the Prince said, "I have come to... I have come to...apologize."

That was not at all what she expected. She still suspected he might be trying to trick her into opening the door, but couldn't come up with a good enough reason to deny him entry.

"You may come in," she said in her most formal tone of voice. She decided to stay standing where she was across the room opposite the entrance. She also thought it wise to stay near her bedroom door, so she had some sort of escape route.

The Prince came in and closed the door behind him. He had a very peculiar expression on his face—he seemed both confident and uncertain at the same time.

He nodded his head to her, and she curtsied and murmured, "Your Highness."

"My lady," he said, "I believe I owe you an apology." His voice sounded tense, as though he would rather not be talking to her at all.

Maren tilted her head in his general direction, a gesture for him to continue. She wanted to hear what exactly he was apologizing for before responding.

He looked at her directly and said, "I have behaved very crudely. I should not have kissed you in the gardens and for that, I apologize. I wish you to know that I have no intention of interfering with your person in any way henceforth."

She watched him critically as he spoke, searching for any sign of deception. She was not surprised he was only apologizing for the incident in the gardens and not being insufferably rude to her in general, but she was surprised he was apologizing at all. Maren kept looking at him, debating her options for a response.

"As to the first, I thank you and I accept your apology," she said in her haughtiest noblewoman's voice.

It was a voice she associated with her mother when she was talking to other nobles.

He nodded in response, and she continued, "As to the second, regarding your intentions on my person, I am not entirely sure that I believe you."

He looked extremely frustrated, but it was the truth. How could she possibly believe such a sentiment from him? Certainly, not just by him saying so.

"You question my honor?" he accused.

"I do not know you well enough to comment upon your honor, sir," she said, still borrowing her mother's voice.

He still looked frustrated, but nodded in appreciation of her point.

He huffed, "Then I shall demonstrate." He came further into her room, saying, "I require your hand."

Maren took a step backward and looked at him, deeply suspicious. "Why?" she asked.

He made the same growling noise in the back of his throat. Maren vaguely wondered if he did that every time he was seriously annoyed.

"Woman! I wish to swear you an oath!" he yelled and then added, more quietly, "Therefore, I require your hand."

If Maren was surprised, he came to apologize, she was shocked to hear he intended to swear an oath to her. Formal oaths were the highest form of promises, more hallowed even than marriage vows. Breaking an oath was so serious that they were rarely made; Maren had never even heard about someone swearing or receiving an oath. She could hardly imagine what would happen to someone who did break an oath, likely they would be an even bigger social pariah than herself, should her secret become known.

She nodded once and offered her hand to the Prince. He took it and knelt.

He looked her in the eyes and said, "Lady Maren Casteris, by the gods and my sacred honor, I, Donovan Malenor, being of sound mind, give you this oath of my own free will: That I shall not kiss you or touch you in any way without your expressed consent. That I shall neither come to your bed nor ask you to mine against your will. This is my oath, and I ask that the gods strike me down where I stand should I break it."

Maren was still so surprised, she nearly forgot to give the proper response to him.

"I accept your oath, Your Highness," she said after a few moments.

The Prince rose and stalked out of her rooms, calling, without turning to face her, "I trust that is sufficient!"

Maren watched him go, still blinking in surprise.