Baiting the Prince

Cassian

Astrid did not come out of the gardens through the front entrance that night. Or any of the three nights after.

I slam my seal onto the papers in front of me with enough force to crack the handle. And the blotter. And the desktop, for that matter. I don’t care. Astrid has avoided me most of the week. Her wedding is two days from now. We have things we should talk about.

Things that won’t m