“I don’t think I should, your highness.”
He grinned, though she was aware of the frustration wafting from him.“As you wish, then.My attendants tell me it was quite the spectacle.”
She tipped her head to the side.“Healing you?”
“Yes.”A smile pulled at the corners of his lips.He leaned in and dropped his voice to a fake whisper.“They think you’re a witch.”
She laughed, albeit a nervous one.“I assure you, I am no witch.”
“That’s what I told them.”
He reached for her hand, then, taking it in his warm one.Such a contrast from when she had healed him and his skin was cold and clammy.His thumb swept over the back of her hand, sending a tingling sensation through her.Her pulse jumped at the warmth of his touch, but guilt pricked her skin.Another’s touch lingered in memory—stronger, sadder, bound to her in a way this prince could never be.
“I’m grateful to you, Serena Windriver.Words cannot express my thanks.”
She did not know why it shocked her that he knew her full name.“You’re welcome, your highness.I was glad to do it.”
Even as she said it, the lie burned through her.
His thumb continued to stroke her hand, his gaze never leaving hers.“They tell me you are the miracle girl.”
“I am not,” she said.“I’m just a girl.”
In fact, once she had healed the prince, the shimmering of her skin had disappeared.It was as though she poured every ounce of magic the stranger gave her into the crown prince to cure him.And that was fine by her.She didn’t want the magic lingering in her hands.
“Well, just a girl.Would you take a stroll with me?I’m restless after convalescing for so long and I’d enjoy some company.”
He was so different from his father.He seemed more congenial and sweet instead of abrasive and harsh and demanding.Perhaps that was what was required of a king.Edgar had not been subjected to ruling a kingdom yet.
The prince glanced toward the window where gray light slashed inside.“It’s a dreadful morning though.Too cold to walk in the gardens but I could show you the palace.”
How could she refuse?“If you like.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.“Where shall we go first?The armory?The ballroom?The library?”
That caught her attention.Her breath caught in her throat.She thought of her father’s books of folklore and poetry and how she’d read about the man who made three wishes.As her gut clenched and a tingling sensation swept through her, the idea caught.Perhaps, in the king’s library, she’d find something about the stranger.Some way to break his curse and free him.Even if it meant she could not free herself.
“You have a library?”
“Oh, yes.A grand one at that.”He beamed, proud.“It’s one of my favorite rooms.”
“May we start there?”
He placed his hand on top of hers.“As you wish, my lady.”
As they left the room, flanked by two guards, her heart clawed to her throat.The prince was charming and chattered on as they headed down the corridor to the grand staircase.But she was too distracted by her own thoughts as hope bloomed in her chest.
“Wouldn’t you agree, my lady?”he asked.
She blinked, pulling herself back to her thoughts and cast him a sideways glance.He was looking at her with a curiosity.She hadn’t a clue what she was supposed to agree.
“I’m sorry, your highness.I was lost in my own thoughts.”She flushed, her cheeks hot as she turned her gaze forward once again.
He chuckled, a deep sound in his chest.“I said, despite the cold, I prefer winter.Do you agree?”
“Oh.”The word came out in a breath.“It's dreadfully cold.I find Spring to be lovely with all the new blooms and the land renewing itself.”
“Spring is nice, but I confess I much prefer winter to any other season.”
