“I did what any Princess would do,” I say carefully. “No. No one has ever done something like that for me before.” He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Not when I was ten, or fifteen, or twenty.” He inhales, eyes searching. “So why, Verity? Why do you do it, knowing damn well I can’t rescue you back?” I lift my hand and cup his cheek, knowing the answer. “Because, Whitaker Kayes, despite how hard your father tried, this isn’t a transaction for me. I showed up because I see what you don’t.” With a sad smile, I stroke his cheek. “That you’re worth saving.”
