At first, Jeniva considered weaving another lie, but the liquor made her tell the truth.
"Yes," she whispered, her gaze dropping to her boots. "I know."
"When did you find out?" Dominick's voice was a defensive reflex. He didn't wait for her to answer, waving a gloved hand dismissively. "Never mind. It doesn't change anything. We'll go through the formal rejection once you're sober enough to stand."
"I am sober," Jeniva countered, snapping her head up to meet his eyes. The vulnerability was gone and was replaced by a clarity. "I've never encountered a scent like yours. But don't mistake my recognition for a request. I don't want you to accept me. The difference between a Prince and someone like me is too vast, and you've made it clear you already despise me. I am perfectly ready for the rejection."
