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“You’re beautiful.”
A knock on the front door shatters the tender moment between us. Lucien’s expression turns serious, and he sets me on my feet, his hands lingering around my waist.
“Go into the hallway. I don’t want anyone to see you when I open the door.”
I nod and pass Baxter as he enters the foyer. “I’ll answer the door,” he says to Lucien. “People can’t seem to remember that it’s my fucking house.”
Baxter waits until I’m gone to reach for the handle. I conceal myself behind a large potted plant and peer through its leaves. When the visitor is revealed, I slap a hand to my mouth to stifle my gasp.
“Hello there, brother.”
Darius stands there in his livery as the Queen’s Messenger. I run my gaze over every inch of him as though starving. His white hair is secured at the nape of his neck, giving me an unobstructed view of his face. The uniform is neat and clean, pressed and without a wrinkle. His pants are a crisp black and his vest is a combination of white and red with the emblem of a heart on his left shoulder. Shining boots and white gloves complete his refined look.
He’s just as handsome as I remember. If not more so.
The pain from missing him assaults me all at once. I hug my middle to fortify myself and to keep from running to him. Although, I do lean forward with the anticipation of hearing his voice.
“Good day, Baxter,” Darius says. He dips his head in acknowledgment of his brother and then the hatter. “Lucien. I have brought you a letter from Her Majesty that you are to read and obey with all due haste.”
Darius withdraws an ivory-colored envelope from his pocket. There’s a heart-shaped wax seal on the back, along with a black ribbon. He hands it to his brother while his eyes flicker from left to right.
Is he searching for me?
I quickly dismiss the thought. Our last interaction might’ve been intimate, but it was also very brief. He said things that keep me awake at night and make my chest ache with longing for him. However, I can’t imagine him doing the same because of me.
Baxter accepts the correspondence without a word and cracks open the wax seal. He removes the letter inside and reads it quickly, his eyes scanning the parchment while his lips thin. To someone who doesn’t know him, that tiny frown would pass unnoticed, but to me it’s a signal something is wrong.
Very wrong.
“When do we leave?” he asks Darius.
“Now.”
“We?” Lucien parrots with a raised brow. “I didn’t receive a missive.”
Baxter tilts his head. “Here. Read it.”
Unlike his friend, the hatter doesn’t hold back his response to whatever was written. “Well, I’ll be a donkey’s dong.”
“Not the way I would’ve phrased it,” Baxter says, “but my sentiments exactly.”
“Is she still here?” Darius briefly flicks his gaze to the stairs. “Does she remember everything?”
His brother crosses his arms. “Ask her yourself. Princess,” Baxter calls out.
With my heart in my throat, I leave the hallway and enter the foyer. The silver of Darius’s gaze falls on me. My steps slow at the brilliance of its metallic shade, brightening with emotion the closer I get.
“You look well, your highness,” he says. His voice is formal like his attire, but the way he watches me speaks of a familiarity that goes beyond friends, as though I’m his lover.
I nod, my gaze darting to the group of soldiers behind him, also wearing the queen’s heart emblem.
A man with an eye-patch separates himself from the rest and walks up to Darius. There’s a minuscule tightening of his shoulders, but it’s enough to put me on edge. More than I am already.
“We need to leave now, messenger,” the stranger says. “You’ve identified the princess. There’s nothing left to be said.”
Lucien removes his hat to place it against his chest with a bow. “Felix, Captain of the Guard. How nice it is to see you once again.”
The sarcasm dripping from the hatter is enough to make me wince.
