“You? But you’re a prince!”
He laughed, a more real one, and she loved the music of it. “Princes are just people born into certain families. I don’t want to pretend to be the poor little rich boy, because I know I had it way better than other people, but there were things…” He sighed. “I went through hard things, too. Nothing like I think you might have, but. People at court are not always… nice, shall we say.”
“What did they do to you?” she asked, sad for him. If it was anything like what Jada had done to her.
He gazed back at her steadily. “It’s a lot to tell and not always easy. Someday I will. One thing I can tell you now is that when I realized the voices in my head were animals talking to me, that helped clear up some of it.”
“You can talk to animals? How wondrous and extraordinary!”
“That’s my magic,” he answered, looking oddly self-conscious. “It’s not much of a talent. Honestly, a lot of what they tell me isn’t very interesting.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” she replied earnestly. “It’s marvelous. I’d love to know what Nessie is thinking. Or the chickens.”
He sat up a little straighter. “You have chickens?”
“Yes.” Probably princes didn’t have chickens or think much about them. She quickly thought of something more appealing and worldly. “Or think of the tales the songbirds could tell when they come back from their winter travels!”
He smiled quizzically at her. “I’ve never thought to ask them.”
“You should.” Her own sorrows forgotten in her enthusiasm for the possibilities, she gushed on. “What exotic lands they must visit. Or what conversations they must overhear, from windowsills and tree branches.”
“I suppose that’s true. But who is Nessie—one of the chickens?”
“No, she’s a goat. But she’s also my friend.”
“Do you live alone then?” he asked, an odd look on his face. She probably sounded even more crazy saying the animals were her friends.
“I do now. Well,” she amended hastily, “for the moment. Jada, my guardian, is on a trip and she will probably come back soon.” Nonna lifted her head and whined a little at Thorn, thumping her tail once or twice.
“You’re afraid of her,” he noted keenly, his gaze going from Nonna back to Thorn, “this Jada.”
“Did Nonna tell you that?”
“Yes, dogs tend to be attuned to human emotions. They worry about us.” He leaned down and stroked Nonna’s ears. “That’s right, we worry about you, too.” His expression crumpled. “No, we can’t go look for Nina. She’s gone.” He glanced at Thorn. “She keeps asking and I don’t know what to tell her.”
Oh no. “I’m so—”
“You already apologized,” he interrupted, a bit sharply. “More than once,” he added in a softer tone. “It’s done. And I believe you didn’t mean to. Tell me what this Jada has done to make you so afraid.”
“It’s a lot to tell and not always easy,” she said, deliberately echoing him. “Someday I will.”
A smile stretched his lips and he gave her a little salute. “Fairly played. I suppose I deserve that.”
“I wasn’t playing,” she told him. “It’s just… I understand what you mean.”
“Some tales aren’t for daylight.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “And the horses might overhear and gossip.”
He laughed, throwing back his head, exposing his golden throat, giving her the sudden urge to kiss him there. But he wasn’t hers to kiss. “Horses really do love to gossip.” He cocked his head. “Kismet says the stables are boring and what else are they to do? But he added that human doings aren’t interesting and they talk about other horses.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
“You have a lovely laugh,” he said, making her flush with pleasure, though he destroyed it in the next moment. “Not at all like Rose’s.”
She glanced out the window in discomfort. Rose probably had a polished, educated, and knowing laugh.
“I think we should go to Castle Vega, instead,” Sebastien saidabruptly. “I know I already agreed to take you to the cottage, but that was before I knew about… everything. To return you to that place would be unconscionable.”
