Shock seized hold of my voice. I could only stare, scrambling for words but unable to find them. After a stunned moment, I managed to order my surprise into an orderly sentence. “Is that…me?”
Captain Tomas glanced towards the painting. “Of course, Your Highness. It’s an honor to proudly display the portrait of our princess.”
But it couldn’t be. Not only was I not royal, but I was certain I’d never sat for a portrait…unless this was yet another patch in my recollection, as if fragments had been lost in my transition between sleep and awake.
“It wasn’t there last night.” Though I had more pressing questions about this anomaly, in my confusion it was all I could manage.
Tomas exchanged a bewildered glance with his comrades. “It’s always hung there, Princess.” He didn’t appear to be lying, which only deepened my confusion.
What was going on? More importantly, what other changes had taken place in the hours I’d been imprisoned in slumber? I yearned to begin searching for answers immediately, but now that the guards had discovered I’d escaped from my room and recaptured me, I had no idea how I would get away…becoming entrapped once more.
A headache pulsed at my temples, but I resisted the urge to betray any hint of pain and alert my retinue how this supposed curse had affected me—the more fragile I appeared, the more difficult it’d be to get away from their overprotective scrutiny.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t prevent my legs from trembling when Tomas helped me to my feet. He hovered over me, monitoring me as if I was one breath away from a faint. I gritted my teeth. I hated feeling so feeble.
However weak the curse made my body, at least I still had my observation, honed from years of thieving. I kept my eyes peeled for an opportunity to slip away as the guards escorted me through the palace…as well as for any glimpse of Evander, as loathe as I was to admit it. But there was no sign of him.
After a few passages, the captain cleared his throat. “How did you get past the guards outside your room?” He seemed hesitant to question me—whether because he was still deluded into thinking I was a royal, or because he thought me in no state for an interrogation.
The last admission I wanted to give was to reveal I’d discovered the secret passage connecting my room to the rest of the palace. I was certain they’d block it off, and then I’d never be able to escape that ornate prison. I silently cursed that I’d been caught before I could conduct a proper investigation of thecastle. I would surely be under constant vigilance from this time forth. However would I look around now?
“I don’t remember.” A weak excuse, but to my relief he accepted it.
His expression became grave. “To think a few hours sleep stole even such a recent memory; that curse is quite dastardly.” He shook his head.
I seized the opening he gave me. “How did the curse befall me?”
“Their Majesties have never spoken of it to us, and I would never presume to overstep my bounds and ask.” By the finality in his voice, the subject was firmly closed. A mere inquiry would have been too easy to solve that particular mystery, but it left me at yet another dead end.
My skin suddenly prickled in warning, indication that I was being watched. I recognized the force of this particular look. I spun around, searching the corridors, before spotting Evander leaning casually between two tapestries just up ahead, his silhouette sharp against the muted colors of the shadowy corridor. There was an ease to him, as if he belonged outside the rules everyone else followed. But that didn’t explain the strange pull I suddenly felt upon seeing him again—like I’d stepped into a story halfway through, while he already knew the ending.
My heart gave a treacherous leap—he looked far more handsome than I remembered. He caught my eye and winked cheekily, the suave gesture confirmation that he wasn’t the version of this man I’d met inside the dream…at least Ithoughtso; my memories between sleep and waking still felt rather hazy.
“You seem to find yourself in yet another predicament,” he said cheerfully when my entourage closed the distance between us. “You appear to continuously switch between your role of thief and damsel in distress.”
Though the details were slipping away the longer I was awake, if what I’d seen in my dream had been true, I wasn’t the only one with another identity. I felt a prickle of annoyance that the odious man was likely royal—perhaps even the missing prince. No wonder he was so pompous.
I cast him a searching look, as if the secrets of his identity could be deciphered through perusal alone. He made no acknowledgement of my scrutiny as he fell into step beside me. As before, the guards showed no sign of seeing or hearing him. Unlike the first time when he’d appeared unbothered or as if he hadn’t noticed, this time he frowned.
“They’re unaware of my presence, aren’t they? I suppose there are worst fates than only being seen by a beautiful woman.”
I wanted to ask what had made him finally notice his peculiar invisibility to others, but I was afraid that if I was seen talking to myself I would be sentenced to an even longer confinement in bed; I didn’t think I could bear such a fate, especially when I still had much to investigate.
For how often he drove me mad, he was at least clever enough to gauge the reason for my resulting silence. He glanced towards the guards before returning his smirk to me. “It appears you’re left speechless by my very presence.” He winked.
And then he had to ruin the moment with his usual teasing. For all my annoyance, I felt the corners of my lips twitching, as if tempted to lift. His eyes bulged in surprise before his own smile caressed his face—not his usual taunting smirk, but one much softer, stirring something within me that I was afraid to examine.
“Finally my wit earns a smile.”
“I’m not smiling.” The retort escaped before I could check it. The guards slowed to stare at me with mixtures of bewilderment and concern.
Captain Tomas awkwardly cleared his throat. “Are you well, Princess Mirelle?”
I forced a strained grimace. “Forgive me.” I offered no further explanation, but thankfully he didn’t seek one; being perceived as a delicate royal had its uses.
The warmth of Evander’s breath caressed my ear as he suddenly leaned closer, a sensation that made him seem tangible despite no one else being able to see him. “Mirelle?I knew your name wasn’t Sable. Your real one suits you far more.” I could almost hear his grin.
My heart gave a foreign flutter at the compliment, the second treacherous reaction of the exchange. I couldn’t afford another. “I’m the farthest person from royal, so you should doubt any address associated with a title that isn’t mine.”
