Page 58 of A Fragile Enchantment

The doorknob twisted.Oh no.If Miriam caught Niamh awake, she’d know she’d been eavesdropping. Niamh scrambled for the blanket, but it was too late. The door swung open, revealing a very exasperated Miriam. Her mouth parted in a soft O of surprise. She glanced over her shoulder, then locked the door behind her. “You’re awake.”

“I haven’t been for long.”

Miriam studied her with an unreadable expression. “How do you feel?”

She winced. “I feel fine.”

“Don’t be brave for my sake.” Her tone grew stern. “I don’t mean to be invasive—it is the healer in me—but you need to rest. I have seen conditions like yours before.”

Niamh supposed it made sense that her family was not uniquely afflicted, but she hadn’t considered her illness might be common. “You have?”

“Do others in your family have the same symptoms?” When Niamh nodded, Miriam went on. “Then, yes. Some illnesses pass through generations. We tend to see them appear more often in families with divine blood—not necessarily because they’re connected, but because stress seems to worsen symptoms. Magic use can be quite taxing on the body. There is no cure yet, unfortunately, but a good healer can help you manage your symptoms.”

Her thoughts swam. She couldn’t think of finding a healer right now. Until this job was done and her family was safe, she couldn’t think of slowing down or entertaining even a scrap of hope that her life could be longer or less painful than she anticipated.

“My apologies,” Miriam said sheepishly, clearly sensing Niamh’s overwhelm. “I imagine that is not what you wanted to hear immediately upon waking up. The prince is waiting for you in the hall.”

“Is he?”

“He carried you back to the house.”

“What?”

Of all the things Miriam could have told her, this was perhaps the last she would have expected. She couldn’t process it. She couldn’t even envision it. Kit Carmine was most certainly not the gallant type. But how else could she have gotten here? She remembered it now: the creeping darkness over her vision, the unbearable concern in his eyes, the feeling of safety in his arms.

She shoved that thought away.

“Mm. It was quite something. He came out of the storm, wild-eyed, looking like he’d seen a ghost.” She widened her own eyes foreffect. “And you looked like a rag doll. I thought at first that you were dead. It took some convincing to get him to let you go.”

It was all too easy to fill in the blanks from there. The thought of him carrying her, completely limp and sopping wet, all the way back to the estate… It was too humiliating to bear. She would never, ever be able to look him in the eye again. He would lord it over her forever.

But when what he’d done well and truly sank in, her stomach curdled with dread. What had he beenthinking,doing something like that so publicly? Sinclair had warned her about this very situation. More people than Miriam must have seen him emerging from the fog and rain like some revenant.

She could hardly make herself ask the question she dreaded most. But she had to know. “Did Infanta Rosa see?”

“No,” Miriam said quickly, “thankfully.”

“But it won’t take her long to hear, I am sure. If you saw him, anyone could have.” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, no… This is a disaster. I ought to flee the country now. I need to—”

“One thing at a time.” Miriam sat on the very edge of the bed and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “She may not look it, but Rosa is quite an understanding person. If it comes up, I’ll explain it to her. He was only bringing you out of the rain and nothing more. Right?”

“Right,” Niamh said softly.

“He’s still in the hallway now. I think he’s worn a groove in the floorboards by now with all his pacing. Would you like me to send him away?Iwould like that. It reeks out there. The man smokes like a chimney when he’s stressed.”

“I’ll see him.”

Miriam sighed. “Very well. One moment.”

She slipped back through the door. There was a muffled exchange outside. Then, the door all but flew open. It crashed into the wall with a too-loudbang.Kit kicked it shut behind him, thenstrode to her bedside with grim purpose in the set of his shoulders. He still wore his damp clothes, spattered with mud. His hair fell loose and damp around his shoulders, curling just barely at the ends. She’d never noticed just how long it was. And his eyes…

They were as wild as Miriam said—practically ablaze in the firelight. A thousand emotions passed over his face at once, too quick for her to trace, before they landed, quite decisively, on anger.

“Hello,” she croaked.

“You fool. What were you thinking?”

All Niamh could do was gawp at him. Then, righteous indignation doused every one of her worries. “What wasIthinking? Oh, you are so— Ugh! I shouldn’t have expected anything different from you. If that is all you have to say to me, then you can leave!”